I laugh silently, tucking the phone away, then glance back at her.
All these years of aching. All those nights wondering if she’d ever want me back. I never imagined it would be like this. Not just sex. Not just instinct and biology. But this—her tangled in my sheets, her scent in my lungs, my knot still throbbing faintly with the echo of her pulse.
Better than anything I ever dreamed. Better than I deserve.
And still, somehow, mine.
No. Ours now. She is ours.
33
CORA
Iwake up sore in the best way. Not sore like I ran up too many stairs. Sore like three Alphas took turns wrecking me, and I thanked them for it.
The sheets smell like sex and mates and the bond that finally clicked into place. My thighs stick together, my skin still faintly buzzing from where Noah bit me.
His bite is the deepest. My wrist aches a little from where Julian pinned it above my head, and my hips are bruised from Elias’s grip. But none of that is what stirs me.
It’s the heat of Noah’s mouth between my legs again.
I groan, half-asleep, thighs twitching as I try to squeeze them together.
“Morning,” he mumbles into my cunt, voice muffled. His beard scratches the inside of my thigh as he pushes them apart again.
“You’re a menace.”
“You’re soaked.”
“I’m leaking.”
He hums like that’s exactly what he wants and slides two fingers into me, curling slow, careful, like he’s not sure if he’s about to ruin me or break me open gently.
I bite my lip and glance down. His dark eyes are locked on me, face buried between my thighs, hair a mess, body stretched like he’s got nowhere else to be.
He licks me slow. Teasing. I grind against his face because I’m sore, yes, but I’m also wired for this now. For them. I want them constantly.
“God,” I groan. “It should be illegal to be this horny and this tired.”
He grins against my clit. “You’re not tired. You’re healing.”
“That’s the only reason I’m alive,” I pant. “If I wasn’t an Omega, you three would’ve put me in a coma.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” I gasp, pushing into his mouth. “You know I do.”
He fucks me with his fingers until I’m grabbing his hair and shaking, and only when I come around his tongue does he finally pull away, licking me like I’m his breakfast. I collapse back into the pillows, panting.
When I open my eyes again, he’s grinning at me from over the top of the comforter, licking his fingers clean.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You taste like mine.”
I toss a pillow at him. He dodges it, still naked, and flops beside me, grabbing me like I’m a body pillow and pulling me onto his chest.
“Don’t make me get up,” I murmur.
