“Hey,” I murmur, kissing her forehead. Then her temple. Then, because her eyes are right there, I kiss her lids, too.
When she blinks them open, green and still hazy from sleep and heat, the air between us changes. She smells like us—like three Alphas tangled up in her earlier—and my self-control takes a step back. Her lips are so close I can taste her breath, so I lean in and kiss her slowly.
“How’re you feeling?” I ask when I pull back, my hand rubbing lazy circles over her hip.
She swallows, her eyes flicking away for a second before she meets mine again. “I’ve never… experienced anything like this.”
I nod, letting her take her time.
“I’m sore,” she admits quietly. “And… a little horny.”
That pulls a smile from me I can’t hide. I kiss her again, softer this time. “Takes a bit of patience and a few more orgasms for your heat to break.”
Her gaze drifts past me, scanning the room. “Where are the others?”
“Levi went to grab food from B&B, and Simon’s at the clinic, picking up something for your fever.”
She’s quiet for a beat, then says, “I’m… sorry. About the whole… your shirt thing.”
I shake my head. “If I’d known you were gonna go into heat this bad, I never would’ve left.”
Her cheeks color. “I’m a bit embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” I tell her. Then, because honesty’s easier with her than it should be, I add, “If we’re confessing things… I stole your thong.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“And I fucked it,” I continue, watching her reaction. “More than once.”
She lets out this quiet, broken whimper that shoots straight to my cock.
“You okay?” I ask.
Her lip catches between her teeth, and then she says it: “Is it okay if you… fuck me again?”
“Of course, baby.”
She takes my hand, guiding it down until my fingers slip between her thighs. She’s slick—so slick my knuckles are wetafter the first pass—and the heat rolling off her is like a living thing.
We start kissing again, slow at first, then deeper, messier, until I’m groaning into her mouth. My fingers work her open while her nails scrape lightly over my stomach.
Her hand pauses at the waistband of my boxers. “Why’d you put these back on?”
Before I can answer, she’s sliding them down, tossing them aside, and wrapping her hand around me. The way she strokes—confident and hungry—makes my hips flex into her grip.
She pushes at my chest until I’m flat on my back, then swings a leg over me, straddling my hips. The sight of her above me, hair messy and cheeks flushed, is dangerous.
She leans forward, the head of my cock nudging at her entrance, and then she freezes. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
I chuckle low in my chest. “No.”
She frowns faintly. “I can’t… keep control. I don’t get it.”
“It’s heat,” I tell her, my hands sliding up her thighs. “Don’t fight it.”
She bends down, licking the side of my neck, then my jaw, then my lips. Each pass is wetter, needier, her hips rocking unconsciously over me.
When she sits back up, one hand on my chest, she reaches between us to guide me in.
