“Silas.” My name on her lips was half plea, half prayer. “I need... can you...?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I can.” I climbed into the nest beside her, feeling her heat signature wrap around me like a physical touch. “Tell me what you need.”
“You. I need you. I need to feel you the way I felt Beau.” Her hands reached for me, pulling at my shirt with desperate fingers. “Please. I need your knot.”
The desperate need in her voice made my alpha surge, roaring at me to take her, claim her, give her everything she was asking for. But I forced myself to stay calm, to read her emotions clearly through the haze of pheromones.
She wasn’t just in heat. She was craving the connection, the intimacy, the proof that all three of us wanted her. She needed to know that what happened with Beau wasn’t a one-time thing, that we were all committed to taking care of her.
“You’ll have it,” I promised, pulling my shirt over my head. “You’ll have everything.”
She helped me strip off my remaining clothes, her hands shaking with need. When I was finally bare before her, she reached out to touch my chest, exploring with curious fingers.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
“That’s my line,” I said, catching her hand and bringing it to my lips. “You’re the beautiful one, Sable. Especially like this. Open and needy and trusting us.”
“Idotrust you.” Her scent shifted, and I felt the truth of it. Trust mixed with desire, fear pushed aside by want. “I trust all three of you. That’s terrifying.”
“I know. But we’re going to prove you’re right to trust us.”
I kissed her, and my scent-sensitivity made it overwhelming. I could feel her response, taste her desire, sense the exact moment she surrendered to the kiss. It was intoxicating, knowing exactly what she needed, being able to read her body’s signals before she could voice them.
“How do you want me?” she asked when we broke apart. “How should I...?”
“However feels good to you,” I said. “This is about your pleasure, sweetheart. Your comfort. What position sounds good?”
She bit her lip, thinking. “I want... can I be on top? Is that allowed?”
The question broke my heart a little. That she thought she needed permission, that Nathan had made her feel like her preferences didn’t matter.
“You can be anywhere you want,” I said firmly. “On top, on bottom, standing, sitting, whatever feels right. There’s no ‘allowed’ during heat. There’s only what makes you feel good.”
Relief flooded through her, and I felt it like sunshine. “On top then. I want... I want to see you. Want to control the pace.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” I lay back in the nest, pulling her on top of me. “Take what you need, Sable. Set the pace. I’m yours.”
She straddled me, and I groaned at the sight. Her hair wild, her skin flushed, slick already dripping down her thighs from her body’s response to the heat. She was gorgeous, and she was choosing me. Choosing to be vulnerable with me despite everything Nathan had done to make her doubt herself.
“Tell me if I do something wrong,” she said, positioning herself over my cock. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking once, and I had to close my eyes against the dual sensation. The physical touch and the emotional spike of her arousal that I felt through my sensitivity.
“There is no wrong,” I managed. “Just do what feels good.”
She sank down slowly, taking me inch by inch, and I had to close my eyes against the intensity. Not just the physical sensation of her tight heat surrounding me, her body gripping me like she never wanted to let go, but the emotionalcomponent. I could feel her pleasure as if it were my own, her relief at being filled again, her satisfaction at the stretch and fullness. It was overwhelming, like being inside her body and mind at the same time.
“Oh god,” she moaned when she was fully seated, her thighs trembling against my hips. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
“So do you,” I managed, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “You feel incredible, sweetheart. So tight and hot and perfect.”
She started to move, rolling her hips experimentally, lifting slightly and sinking back down. Finding the angle that felt best, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan. I let her explore, let her discover what worked for her body, reading her emotional responses to guide my own movements. Every spike of pleasure I felt from her, I tried to enhance. Every moment of uncertainty, I soothed with touch and words.
“That’s it,” I encouraged when she found a rhythm that made her cry out. “Just like that. Take what you need.”
“There,” she gasped when she angled her hips just right, taking me deeper. “Right there, Silas. When you hit that spot...”
I thrust up to meet her, aiming for the angle that had made her gasp. “Like that?”
“Yes. Just like that. Don’t stop.”
