It smells like coffee, sweat, citrus cleaner, and Norah. That part doesn’t stop, not even when she isn’t in the room.
I never thought I would be standing here like this.
I never thought this would be the shape of it.
“Can I get a drink?” I ask, my voice coming out rough.
Ryker glances up at me, eyes still dark, still charged with everything that just happened upstairs. He nods once. “Yeah. Help yourself.”
I open the fridge and grab a bottle of electrolyte water, twisting the cap off with hands that feel faintly unreal. My reflection stares back at me from the stainless steel door.
I look ruined. My headache has stopped, but I have marks on my lower abdomen from where she scratched me as she sucked me off.
I take a long swallow.
That was so unbelievably hot.
Ryker shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t think…” He stops, exhales, and rubs his palm over his mouth. “I didn’t think this would ever happen.”
“Neither did I,” I say honestly. There’s no bitterness in it. Just truth.
He hesitates again, then asks, “Have you ever… shared her before?”
The question lands heavy.
“No,” I say. “Never like this.”
He nods, gaze dropping to the floor. “But you’ve talked about it.”
“Yes.”
“With her.”
“Yes. When she’s in heat, she would talk up all these scenarios of it. I just thought it was all role play and not something that she was serious about. Normally, she would let me take the lead, but today she was different. It’s like she was in her full Omega. I’ve never seen her like that, demanding what she wants. It was… fuck.”
“It was so fucking hot.” He voices my exact thought.
Silence stretches between us, thick but not hostile. We are past jealousy right now. Past pride.
What remains is concern and something fragile that feels like trust forming under pressure.
“She’ll be okay?” Ryker asks quietly.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “She always is. It hits her hard, but she comes back. She just needs support and structure, and a steady supply of orgasms.”
He releases a breath he has clearly been holding. “Good.”
Jude appears in the doorway then.
He is flushed, damp with sweat, chest rising and falling like he just ran a mile. His hair is a mess, his expression wrecked.
I didn’t expect him to be back so soon. We all watch as he walks to the sofa to grab a blanket and cover his somehow still hard cock.
“Is she asleep?” I ask.
“Yeah. I think the number of orgasms she had helped ease her tension. I think two minutes after you two left, my knot already began softening,” he says, turning to face us.
We’re in his kitchen, talking about him fucking my girl. Their girl? Our girl?
