Luka held her throat in that anchor, and with everythrust, he drew a brighter flush across her skin, until she looked illuminated from the inside out. The hunger in my gut came back full force, and I found myself reaching down, thumbing the corner of her lips as she worked my cock, smearing a bit of my own release across her chin for no reason except that I wanted to mark her, too.
She moaned, and the vibration nearly undid me a second time.
Luka leaned forward, his mouth at her ear, and murmured something in Russian—low and intimate, the kind of secret only long-time linemates could share. Whatever he said made her clench, her breath stuttering like someone had run a skate blade right through her composure. He smiled, softer now, and kissed her shoulder right where the scent gland pulsed hot and slick beneath the surface.
The air tasted like ozone and sex and the heat-smoke of burned sugar.
I watched, helpless and hypnotized, as Luka’s hand tightened just slightly at her throat and he pulled her back against him, using her body like a lever to meet his every thrust. He didn’t look away from me, either. He wanted me to see it all—the way she surrendered, the way he caught every piece of her, the way she was held absolutely safe.
Octavia came with a broken cry that vibrated through every inch of me still recovering on the bed. Her whole body shook, thighs trembling, slick gushing around Luka’s cock as he drove her through it.
Only when she started to come down did he slow, leaning over her back, lips brushing her ear.
“I’m only letting you taunt these Alphas because of your heat, yes?”
She nodded, breathless, eyes glassy.
“And when your heat calms,” he continued, voice rough with possession, “you’re gonna get to know them. And if they don’t treat you right, they’re fucked and never get to taste this pussy again. Yes?”
Another nod. Smaller this time. Almost shy beneath the heat haze.
He forced her chin up gently until their eyes met. “Say it.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
He kissed her—deep, claiming, the kind of kiss that marked territory without needing words. Then he pulled out, slapped her ass once with a sharp, affectionate crack, and stepped back.
A low whistle cut through the afterglow.
Maddox stood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark-blue hair tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. His cedar-and-ember scent rolled in with him—smoky, grounded, carrying the faint ozone crackle of restrained power.
“You’re one overprotective, possessive Alpha, huh,” he noted quietly, but the smirk softening his mouth took any sting out of it. “Good to see a respectable one in our presence.”
Luka chuckled, low and easy, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist.
“If you think threatening my Omega not to fuck random Alphas I barely know is respectable, I think you need to go analyze your ruthless leader sulking upstairs.”
Maddox’s chuckle was softer, almost fond.
“Yeah. He’s gonna lock himself up there the whole time.”
Octavia pouted.
The expression was genuine—bottom lip pushed out,storm-gray eyes suddenly wide and vulnerable in a way that made every Alpha in the room straighten instinctively. Her heat emotions were cresting again, swinging from confident siren to uncertain girl in the space of a heartbeat.
“Does he not like me?”
All eyes turned to her. The silence stretched for half a second before Maddox stepped forward—broad shoulders cutting through the charged air like he was skating into a defensive zone. He leaned down, one large hand cupping her cheek with surprising gentleness, thumb brushing the flush on her cheekbone.
“Kael definitely likes you. So much so that he has to tame himself. Because when he likes things, he gives them his all. And remember—we have the Olympics to qualify for. We need our captain available just in case we’re summoned.”
He smiled—sweet, steady, the kind of smile that made you believe the world could be simple if you let it.
“Maddox, by the way.”
The pout softened. She wrinkled her nose, inhaling deeply, then muttered, “You smell good.”
