Dominic sees it. His rhythm changes between one thrust and the next, the pace dropping into something slower and deeper. His hands release my hips and slide up to cup my face.
"Stay with me, firefly." His voice reaches me through the warm haze, lower than before, the command softened into a request. "I can see you going. Stay right here."
"I'm trying." My words feel like someone else is speaking them. "It feels... Dominic, it feels so..."
"I know." He drops his forehead against mine and his hips roll in slow, grinding circles that keep the pleasure building without the sharp intensity that pushed me under last time. "I've got you. Keep your eyes on me."
My eyes find his through the haze. He's right there, his face filling my vision, his breath warm against my mouth. Behind me Amos leans down and presses his lips against my temple, then the curve of my ear. Dominic's slow thrusts keep me floating just above the drop.
"That's it." Dominic's thumb traces my cheekbone while his hips maintain their grinding rhythm. "Right there. Stay right there."
He keeps me hovering right at the edge, his cock moving inside me with a control that must be costing him everything, his gaze locked on mine. Amos' mouth moves against my ear, murmuring words I can only half hear.
"I'm close. Dominic, I'm right there."
"Then come." He rolls his hips forward and holds himself deep, the head of his cock pressing against the spot that unravels me. "Come for me, firefly. I've got you."
The orgasm rolls through me from somewhere deep, a slow wave that builds and crests without the explosive violence of the spike-driven ones. My body tightens around Dominic in rhythmic pulses and he follows, his knot swelling just enough to stretch my rim while his release fills me in warm bursts. The sensation of the knot and the warmth pulls the subspace closer, but Dominic's eyes hold me at the surface. Amos' mouth stayspressed against my temple. I float right at the edge, the pleasure so complete my eyes water.
"There you are." Dominic says it against my mouth, his breath shaking. "You stayed."
"I stayed." My voice comes out thick and wondering. "I could feel it pulling me down. But it didn't feel scary this time. It felt..."
"You felt safe." Amos' mouth curves against my temple.
"Yeah." I blink and the kitchen comes back into focus, the tile cold against my bare legs, Dominic still locked inside me, Amos' lap warm under my head. "Is that what subspace is supposed to feel like? Because last time it felt like drowning and this time it felt like... I don't know, being held underwater but knowing I could breathe."
"That's what it feels like when the Alpha handles it right." Amos' fingers keep their rhythm in my hair. "Last time Dominic didn't see the signs. This time he did."
"I slowed down." Dominic says it against my mouth. "I saw your eyes start to go and I slowed down instead of pushing harder."
"You slowed down." I reach up and touch his face, my fingers tracing his jaw. "You learned that from last time."
He turns his head and presses his lips against my palm. The gesture is so careful that my chest aches with it.
Dominic's knot deflates after ten minutes on the kitchen tile, which is not comfortable. He pulls out and helps me sit up while Amos retrieves the duffel bag from where he dropped it by the door. My legs are shaking and the tile is wet. I'm sitting naked from the waist down in an apartment I've never seen before. Somehow the whole situation feels less terrifying than it did in the car.
"We need to get you to the bedroom." Amos slings the duffel over his shoulder and offers me his hand. "The next spike couldbe six hours from now or it could be one. We should set up while we can."
The apartment is smaller than I expected. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen that now smells like sex and slick, and a living room with a couch that has clearly been slept on more than the bed. Dominic's taste is in the furniture and Amos' taste is in the bookshelves lining the far wall. They've been sharing this space for years.
The bedroom has a king bed with clean white sheets and nothing else. No nest, no throw blankets, no stolen clothing. The blankness of it hits me harder than the spike did. My body wants the nest and this room smells like laundry detergent.
Amos sets the duffel bag on the bed and unzips it. The scent hits me before I see the contents, the concentrated combination of everything I've been collecting, and my throat tightens.
"You packed my nest."
"You're going to need it." Amos starts pulling items from the bag and laying them on the bed. "Tell me where things go."
My hands are shaking but they know what to do. I pick up the cardigan and spread it at the head of the bed as the base layer. Amos' scarf winds through the pillows. The sweater goes on the right side because that's where I sleep. The socks tuck under the pillow. Dominic watches from the doorway with his arms crossed while Amos hands me items one at a time.
"The throw blanket goes over everything." I smooth it across the top of the arrangement and step back. The nest isn't as elaborate as the one in the closet because half the items are still back at the house, but the scent is right.
Dominic crosses the room and tosses the shirt he's wearing onto the bed beside the nest. It's warm from his body and carries fresh scent.
"Get in," he says.
I get in. The nest closes around me and the scent hits my nervous system and my muscles release all at once, the tension draining out of me so fast that tears prick my eyes.
