Etienne simply held her tighter, like she was the most precious thing in his world.
And she was.
22
Hastings
The room was quietexcept for the soft rhythm of Etienne's steady inhales against her hair, and of Fritz's occasional murmur in his sleep. Moonlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting silver across the tangled nest. Presley lay curled between us, her body finally still after the frenzy of her heat. Her scent had mellowed into something warmer, deeper—pack-scented, claimed in every way but the one that mattered most.
And why I couldn’t sleep.
My mind kept replaying the way she'd whispered she wanted all of us. It always remembered something else. And now my alpha instincts gnawed at me. The mating gland at the base of her neck had swelled during her heat, flushed and sensitive every time one of us grazed it with our teeth.
We'd held back. Of course, I’d never wanted to sink my teeth into an omega’s neck in the past. Not one omega had ever done that to me.
Until her.
I shifted carefully, trying not to disturb her. My arm was draped over her waist, fingers splayed across her stomach. The thought of a baby had lingered since we met her and now she could be nine months from giving us what we wanted from the start.
It seemed strange now, though. Somehow the woman we’d fucked for three days straight was the only thought in my mind. For some reason, I'd buried the surge of want deep, where it couldn't complicate things.
A soft sound pulled me from my thoughts.
Presley gently took my fingers and moved them until they were on my hip. Then she slipped from the nest. Her bare feet tip toed across the carpet.
I opened my eyes fully and watched her silhouette moving back and forth at the foot of the bed. She was gloriously naked. Her hair was wild, tousled from sleep and everything we'd done. She wrapped her arms around herself, hips swaying slightly as she walked, like her body couldn't settle.
I sat up slowly. Etienne stirred but didn't wake. Fritz rolled over, arm searching for her warmth and finding only blankets.
"Presley," I whispered.
She froze, turning toward me. Her eyes were glassy, and her pupils wide again. A faint flush crept up her neck.
"I need... more," she murmured, voice husky, almost pleading. She took a step closer, thighs pressing together.
My cock stirred instantly, hardening against my thigh.
"Just once more," she whispered, coming closer but staying standing at the edge of the nest.
Her hand found my chest, fingers curling into the hair there. She was burning. No doubt, residual heat. It happened sometimes after a heat. Sometimes the waves lingered.
"I need to be knotted again. My body... it's crying out for it."
The words hit me like a punch. Her scent already coated the air. The vanilla, leather, cedarwood and the smell of fresh rain in the air, partly sweet, partly earthy, but it was her arousal blooming again.
I glanced at my pack mates who were still asleep. If we started here, we'd wake them. The nest would turn into another frenzy, and she was sore. We'd all seen to that.
I caught her wrist gently. “I might help for you to shower first," I said, keeping my voice low. "You're sticky. Let me clean you up."
Her lips parted, a small whine escaping, but she nodded.
I stood, scooping her up easily. Presley was small in height. She had curvy hips and boobs but still she weighed nothing in my arms. I carried her out of the bedroom, down the hall to the en-suite bathroom in my wing. The door clicked shut behind us, soft enough not to echo.
I set her down on the wide counter, turning on the lights to dim. Steam began to fill the space as I started the water, testing the temperaturewith my hand.
She watched me, legs dangling, revealing the slick glistening on her inner thighs. "Hastings..."
"Shh." I reached for her and we stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade over us. The water soaked her hair, running in rivulets down her breasts, her stomach, between her legs.
