My orgasm hit like a wrecking ball, my body bowing off the sofa, my scream raw and unfiltered. Mateo followed with a groan, his body bucking into mine as his release spilled inside me in hot, thick pulses.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, the way Mateo’s weight pressed me into the leather, the way his heart hammered against my chest.
Then there was a hand on my ankle.
Juno.
He was kneeling at the end of the sofa, his eyes dark with hunger, his cock already hard again. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
I reached for him.
The next hour was a blur of skin and heat, of hands and mouths and the kind of pleasure that bordered on pain. Juno took me again, slow and deep, his fingers tangled with mine, his forehead pressed to my shoulder. Stephen knelt behind him, his cock sliding into Juno with a rhythm that made them both groan, their bodies moving in perfect, devastating sync.
Mateo watched for a while, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking with a lazy, possessive intensity. Then he joined us, his body pressing against mine, his mouth claiming mine as Stephen fucked Juno beside us, the sounds they made, gasps and groans and the wet, obscene slide of skin, filling the room.
At one point, Juno reached across the tangle of limbs, his fingers finding mine. I gripped back, hard.
Solidarity.
Love.
The specific warmth of two people who had both been told they were less-than, lying in a room where that had never been true.
We came together the second time, a mess of limbs and broken sounds, the scent of sex and sweat and belonging thick in the air.
After, we collapsed onto the bed, somehow, we’d made it that far, limbs tangled, skin slick, the city lights painting our bodies in gold and shadow.
No one spoke for a long time.
“When do we make it official?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. The room went still.
Juno propped himself up on one elbow, his golden eyes studying me. “The bond?”
I nodded.
He reached out, brushing a curl behind my ear. “Give it six months.”
“Six—?”
“Let the adrenaline fade,” he said soothing the anxiety that had surged within me. “Let the lawsuits settle. Let us be sure this is what we want when we’re not running on war.”
Mateo made a sound low in his throat. “It will be.”
I turned my head to look at him. He was sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of a man who had already made his decision.
“You sound very certain.”
His arm dropped. His dark eyes met mine. “I’ve checked. Several times.”
I huffed a laugh. Of course he had.
Stephen was quiet for a long moment. Then?—
“He’s right,” he said. “But I also think we should give Rowan what she wants.”
Juno’s fingers traced the curve of my hip. “And what do you want, love?”
I looked at them and I knew they were my Pack. My future.
