I grind down hard, forcing the swelling knot past my resistance.
Callum's hands dig into my hips. "Milo, are you—"
"I want it," I sob.
I sink all the way down. The knot pops inside me and locks. The stretch is enormous, fusing us together. I can't ride him anymore, just grind my hips in small, frantic circles to keep the pressure right where I need it.
Callum pumps his fist over my cock. He's pulsing deep inside me, his knot throbbing in heavy, rhythmic beats. He jerks his hips up, spilling hot and deep into my ass, and the heat of it spreads through me like wildfire.
I come with a loud, wrecked cry. My whole body seizes around his knot. I spurt over his hand, thick ropes of come shooting over his stomach and chest. The orgasm tears through me, prolonged by the locked knot, rolling through my body in endless waves.My thighs give out entirely. I'm empty and full and completely ruined.
I collapse forward onto his chest, gasping for air.
His thick arms wrap around me instantly, caging me against him. His heart hammers against my cheek. The nest is a disaster zone. Sweat, slick, and come soak into the blankets and the T-shirts I so carefully arranged. It smells like both of us now. It's permanently, irreversibly ours.
We don't speak. His hands stroke my hair and trace the line of my spine. I press my face into his neck, breathing in his heavy, satisfied scent as his knot slowly pulses in aftershocks.
After a few minutes, my hand blindly reaches out. I grab the edge of a flannel shirt that got shoved aside during the sex, and I automatically tuck it back into the pillow wall. Even with his knot locked inside me, my brain is still trying to tidy the den.
Callum's chest rumbles with a low, deep laugh. He pulls me tighter against his chest, burying his face in my curls, and lets the nest hold us both.
Callum
Marco catches me checking my phone for the third time in five minutes. He grins like he's just cracked a massive case.
"Who is she?" he asks, tossing a roll of electrical tape across the engine bay.
I catch it without looking and shove the phone back in my pocket. "Nobody."
"Nobody makes you smile at your phone like a lovesick teenager," Jen says, appearing from behind the truck. She wipes grease off her hands with a rag. "You've been weird for two weeks, Hayes. You turned down a Saturday shift. You never turn down Saturdays."
"Maybe I have a life now."
"That's exactly what concerns us," Marco says.
Jen snorts.
They're not wrong. I have been different, and I can't exactly hide it. My scent is completely fucked. It's got Milo threaded all through it now, sweet and permanent. Anyone in this firehouse with a functioning nose knows something is up. I've beenrearranging my entire schedule around an omega who works at the library on Saturdays and has a study group on Thursdays.
"Got somewhere to be?" Jen asks as I grab my jacket off the hook.
"Meeting Ava for coffee."
"Tell her I said hi," Marco calls after me. "And tell your secret girlfriend we said hi too."
"There's no—" I start, but I give up. The lie is exhausting. Plus, my secret situation involves a boyfriend, not a girlfriend, and the word "secret" is about to become past tense if I can get through the next hour without chickening out.
My phone buzzes on the walk to my truck.
Milo:i stress-baked again. the apartment smells like a bakery and Jude keeps giving me looks because apparently i smell like "someone who's been rolling around in alpha" which is a direct quote. send help
I lean against the driver's side door and read it twice. The image of Milo in his kitchen, wearing one of my shirts under his oversized sweater and covered in flour while Jude gives him shit... Jesus. My chest gets tight. I want to go home, eat all four dozen cookies, and bury my face in his neck.
Callum:Heading to meet Ava now. I'll text you after.
Milo:ok. good luck. please don't die
Milo:if she murders you i'll avenge you but i'd prefer not to have to
