The first touch of his tongue was reverence — slow, broad licks along her folds, warm breath ghosting sensitive skin until she sighed and parted her thighs wider. He lingered there, lapping deep, savoring her before shifting higher. She gasped when his lips closed softly around her clit, sucking gently as two fingers eased inside her, curling just right to stroke the special spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
Pleasure coiled slow and sweet, building in languid waves under his skilled mouth, but need sharpened fast. Emmy tangled fingers in his hair, tugging him up. “On your back,” she ordered, voice still morning-rough.
He obeyed instantly, rolling beneath her, cock hard and ready against his belly. She straddled him, sinking down in one slick glide. The stretch wasexquisite, his heat filling her completely, dragging against swollen walls until she gasped, seated deep. She rode him slow at first, savoring the drag. When he touched her, she ordered him to grab the headboard, and he did so immediately, his gaze locked on hers with raw surrender that twisted her heart and flooded her core with possessive love.
The rhythm built, and he moved with her, their hips snapping faster, pleasure cresting sharp — when the door opened and Zander entered, his cool presence filling the room like night air. He paused, gaze raking over them with dark approval, then moved to the side table for the lube.
Without a word, he pushed her forward gently, and his cool, lubed fingers were at her ass, circling, pressing, opening her with a patient finesse that made her moan.
“Choices, little dragon,” Zander said, his voice both velvet and gravel. “Roll over and impale our boy’s cock in your ass so I can properly fuck your pussy … or go to hands and knees so I can fuck your lovely ass while our boy suffers untouched below you.”
The words sent fire racing through her veins, power and want flowing through her like electricity. She met his gazeover her shoulder, then looked down to Spence’s wide, needy gaze below her — and came off his cock to go to hands and knees.
Zander’s smile was all slow, predatory approval. Spence whimpered below, and she lowered her body so her chest rested on his lower chest, her head on his sternum, and her ass high in the air.
Zander pressed in without pause, cool thickness breaching her in one claiming thrust, the burn blooming sharp and perfect as he filled her completely. Pleasure-pain twisted exquisitely, her body yielding around him as he began to move in deep, measured strokes that dragged fire over nerves, building her fast.
The first orgasm hit like lightning — walls clenching wild around him, cries tearing free as she rocked back, taking him deeper. He didn’t slow, pounding through the spasms, cool hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, the second crest sharper, body convulsing in endless waves that left her gasping, tears pricking from the intensity.
Zander’s rhythm turned relentless, thrusts slamming home until his own release flooded her cool and pulsing, claiming deep. He held there a moment, breath ragged behind her, love radiating silent and fierce.
They collapsed sideways, pulling Spence into the tangle, but minutes later all three were in the shower, steam rising as water cascaded hot over marked and unmarked skin alike. Zander wrapped a soapy hand around Spence’s still-hard cock and jacked him slowly.
“It will please me greatly to know you’re denied and needy all day, Dearest. I’ll consider allowing release when I feed from you at tonight’s frenzy.”
Spence shivered under the spray, arousal evident despite the denial, devotion shining in his eyes. Emmy felt a pang of sympathy, but agreed with Zander. Denial reinforced the dynamic they all craved, bolstering the foundation that let her dominance bloom alongside Zander’s. Spence needed the edge, the ache, the proof of belonging.
And in that need, they were all perfectly, beautifully bound.
The week slipped by in winter’s polar night, the silo’s artificial rhythms flattening time and blending the days into one long, productive blur.
Emmy spent her mornings and afternoons hunched over her desk, genetic sequences scrolling across multiple monitors while data analysis programs crunched numbers in the background. She’d mapped the mitochondrial-nuclear incompatibilities between domesticated rabbits and eastern cottontails, pinpointed the precise chromosomal segments where attempts at hybridization broke down, and was now building a predictive model for viable, fertile hybrid offspring — healthy baby bunnies who could hop into the world and eventually make more babies, finally breaking a barrier that had held for centuries.
It was the kind of breakthrough that made her want to bounce in her chair and shout.
Instead, she got back to work, and an hour later, when Spence and Zander arrived with food, the rich scent of rare steak and roasted root vegetables cutting through the sterile hum of her screens and catching her attention, she pulled her headphones off and told them, unable to contain her grin, “I figured it out! The genetic hitch where rabbit hybridization fails isn’t random; it’s clustered around genes that regulate cellular differentiation during embryonic development, which means the breakdown isn’t some insurmountable species wall. It’s a timing issue. The cottontail genes push cells to specialize too early, while the domestic ones lag. If I can introduce a regulatory buffer — maybe a synthetic promoter sequence timed to delay differentiation just long enough — the embryos should progress past the blastocyst stage without collapsing.”
“Which means,” Zander said, his smile curving, “my genius dragon is writing centuries of failure into possibility.”
Emmy’s chest swelled, emotion flooding hot and fierce. Not just happiness about her breakthrough, but the love that wrapped around her from both sides. The fact Zander had learned enough about her thesis to grasp what this could mean was huge.
Spence hugged her, Zander wrapped his arms around both, and she leaned into them, the thesis glowing like a promise on her screens behind her, the triangle’s foundation a security she’d never known she needed.
And then Spence showed how much he understood her research when he asked, “How soon until you can start the actual breeding trials?”
“Not until we’re back in Anchorage and I can set up proper quarantine protocols. But this—” She gestured at her screens. “This is the foundation. This is what gets me from coursework to actual research. Professor Chen is going to lose his mind when he sees my next progress report.”
Zander pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Brilliant girl. We should celebrate.”
“After the feeding frenzy,” she said, already thinking ahead to the evening’s performance. “And after we eat. It smells amazing.”
Emmy double-checked that everything was saved, put her system to sleep, and sat down at the table with her men.
This was her life now: intellectual challenges that stretched her mind, physical challenges that pushed her body, and two men who celebrated both with equal enthusiasm.
She’d never been happier.
Chapter 23
