I feel him swell inside me, knot expanding as his own release approaches. The stretch makes me gasp, aftershocks firing through nerves that should be exhausted but somehow aren't.
"Do it." I card my fingers through his hair, pulling his face up so I can see his eyes. "I want to feel you come."
He groans—this guttural, animal sound—and slams into me one final time. I feel him pulse inside me, hot and wet, knot locking us together as his whole body shudders with the force of his orgasm.
His teeth sink into the fleshy curve of my shoulder.
The pain is white-hot and absolute—a bright, clean line of fire that tears through the afterglow and rewires every nerve ending in my body. I feel the bond snap into place like a deadbolt thrown home, the sound of it ringing through some interior chamber I didn't know existed. Not metaphorical.Physical. A vibration that starts where his jaw is locked against my flesh andradiates outward through my bones, my blood, the marrow of me.
Atticus floods in.
Not his scent or his body or even his voice—him. The whole of him, pouring through the newly opened channel like water through a broken dam. I feel his satisfaction, dark and possessive. His relief, sharp enough to cut. And underneath both, something so vast and tender it makes my lungs seize.
He loves me. He loves me so much it hurts him.
I grab his forearm before he can pull away. My fingers dig into the muscle, yanking it toward my mouth, and I bite down on the inside of his wrist with every ounce of strength my jaw possesses.
His whole body jerks. A sound rips out of him—not a word, not a groan, something more primal than language—and the bond doubles back on itself, completing a circuit that lights up behind my closed eyelids like the sun breaking through storm clouds.
My mark on his skin. His mark on mine.
Ours.
We stay like that for a long moment. Tangled together, breathing each other's air, still connected in the most intimate way possible.
Then he shifts slightly, adjusting his weight so he's not crushing me, and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"Hi."
I laugh, the sound weak and breathless. "Hi yourself."
"How are you feeling?"
I take inventory. The heat has receded slightly, satisfied for now, but I can already feel it gathering strength for the next wave. My body is loose and languid, muscles trembling with pleasant exhaustion. And underneath it all, a bone-deep contentment that makes my eyes prick with unexpected tears.
"Good." The word doesn't feel adequate. "Really good."
His thumb traces my cheekbone, catching a tear I didn't realize had escaped. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The knot is already starting to deflate, his body slowly separating from mine. The loss makes me whimper, instinct screaming to keep him close, keep him inside, keep himmine.
"I'm not going anywhere." He reads the panic in my expression and soothes it with another kiss. "Just getting comfortable. I'm staying right here."
He rolls onto his side, pulling me with him until I'm tucked against his chest. His arm wraps around my waist, hand splayed possessively across my stomach. His scent surrounds me—jasmine and plum and the musk of sex—and something in my chest settles.
"The next wave will hit soon," I warn him. "Maybe an hour. Maybe less."
"I'll be ready."
"Dom and Judah?—"
"Are downstairs with Mason. They'll rotate in when you need them." His lips brush my temple. "We planned for this, remember? All of us, together. You're not doing this alone ever again."
The tears come harder now, spilling down my cheeks in hot rivulets. Atticus doesn't comment, just holds me tighter, letting me fall apart in the safety of his arms.
"I love you." The words tumble out, raw and honest. "I love all of you. I don't know what I did to deserve?—"
