I grind down harder and Knox's hips buck up to meet me and the sound of the impact fills the nest. Arthur rolls my nipples between his fingers and I cry out, clenching around Knox.
"That's it." Arthur's voice is low, commanding and it does something to me that should require a signed waiver. "Take him. Show him how much you need him."
"Fuck," Knox breathes. His hands tighten on my hips. "Beth, I'm not going to last if you—"
I kiss him. Pour everything into it. All the nights I've lain awake thinking about his scent on my pillow. All the ways he can infuriate me and anchor me in equal measure.
His hips stutter. His knot starts swelling. I take him deeper, chasing it, and when his knot catches and locks inside me we both go rigid.
"Beth," he groans, and the sound of my name in his mouth, wrecked and raw, triggers my own release.
This orgasm is different. Slower. A deep, rolling wave that starts in my core and expands outward until my fingers tingle, my toes curl and I'm gasping his name into the crook of his neck while his knot pulses inside me.
We lie there. Breathing. Connected. His hand comes up and cups the back of my head, his thumb stroking behind my ear. The tenderness of it after the intensity makes my chest crack open.
"That purr is back," he says, smiling against my hair.
***
When his knot releases, the heat surges again, sharper this time, more demanding. My skin feels like it's humming at a frequency only I can hear. The nest is saturated with all of our scents, layered so thick the air is almost tangible, and my omega brain is singularly focused on the one alpha who hasn't been inside me yet.
Arthur is leaning against the headboard. Watching.
He's been watching. The whole time. Those dark eyes tracking every movement, every sound. He looks like a man exercising enormous restraint and losing the battle.
"Your turn," I say.
"Come here," he says.
I crawl across the nest toward him and he catches me by the waist and pulls me into his lap. The position puts us face to face, chest to chest, his arousal pressing against my stomach, his hands framing my jaw.
"I need you to know something," he says.
"Arthur, I love your speeches but if this is a long one I am going to combust."
"I'm just so happy you let us in," he says. "And no, that's not a bad pun."
My eyes sting. "Arthur—"
"That's it. That's the speech." He kisses me. Soft at first. Then deeper. Then deeper still, until I'm grinding against him, whimpering and his hands are everywhere.
He lifts me by the hips and positions me over him and I sink down slowly. The stretch. The fullness. The way his hands tremble against my waist.
"Oh," I breathe.
"Yeah," he manages. "Oh."
I start to move and his head falls back against the headboard. I lean forward, press my mouth to his pulse point and feel it hammering under my lips.
"You feel—" he starts, and has to stop. "Beth. You feel—"
"I know." I roll my hips and he makes a sound that I want recorded and played on repeat for the rest of my natural life. "I know."
Mason and Knox flank us. Mason's mouth finds my shoulder. Knox's hand slides between Arthur and me, thumb finding my clit with devastating precision.
"That's cheating," I gasp.
"Is it working?" Knox asks.
