Page 372 of Immune

She whimpers my name into Fletcher’s mouth when Kaito’s tongue works over her, when his fingers slide into her with patient and devastating precision. Every single sound she makes becomes something I feel in every part of my body. In my chest, in my brain, and in the places I’ve kept empty for years because empty was safer than anything else.

“Xeon,” she gasps again, crying out when Kaito does something she enjoys.

“I’m here.”

“Touch me,” she says, just shy of tipping over the line of begging. There’s a needy whine in her voice that I can’t ignore, so I do as I’m told.

My hands close around her breast, my thumb brushing her nipple until it hardens to a point. She cries out, hips lifting into Kaito’s mouth, and Fletcher curses softly against her lips when he leans in to steal more kisses.

Ewan reaches across her stomach, fingers finding mine and guiding, not because I need the help, but because the pack bond wants connection everywhere. His hand over mine, my hand over hers, Fletcher’s mouth now on her throat. Kaito between her thighs.

Dakota comes with a sound that’s half sob and half snarl, an Omega’s needy whine rattling the back of her throat as she topples over the edge.

The bond sparks to life even brighter.

All of them.

All of us.

Her pleasure burns brightly through Ewan, controlled and fierce through Kaito, both solid and shaking through Fletcher, and through me it becomes winter finally crackingopen under the first ray of sunlight. Quiet completely obliterated by want.

She’s still trembling when she reaches blindly for Ewan and he goes gladly. He kisses her like he’s been waiting to breathe.

“Hi,” she whispers against his mouth.

He laughs, ragged and completely folded for her. “Hi.”

“You’re wearing clothes. Pants. What’s that about?”

His grin grows. “That’s an actual nightmare. Horrible oversight from us.”

He fixes it fast enough that Dakota laughs again, then moans when he settles against her side, hard and aching against her hip. Fletcher removes the last of his clothes with less humor, but his hands are careful when he shifts behind her, supporting her body and making sure her knee is cushioned.

Kaito rises, mouth wet and eyes dark and Dakota stares at him. “So smug.”

“Nope,” he counters.

Ewan looks down. “Mate, you look a little smug.”

“It’s called satisfaction.”

Dakota makes a strangled sound. “Oh my god, that’s worse.”

I laugh before I can stop the sound from leaving my mouth and everyone looks at me. Dakota smiles, small and stunned and mine. Then her heat fully rises, filling the room with her scent. Wild honey. Rain. Need. All thick and spreading to every corner of the room. This time, it’s not the terrifying, body-stealing kind from before. It’s not the fever that took her choices and bent the world around biology. This heat opens because the bonds are open, because she wants it, and because she trusts us enough to ask for it.

Her thighs part and her hand reaches for mine.

“Come here,” she says softly and everything in me stops.

Ewan goes still, Kaito’s eyes drop and then lift again, and Fletcher’s hand strokes once over her hair.

I move between her thighs with a level of care I can barely contain. Dakota watches every second, and when I push into her body, she makes a sound so soft that it almost ends me there and then.

I pause and her nails dig into my arm. “Don’t you dare stop there.”

My control cracks into something almost like a smile. “Bossy.”

“I call it driven,” she breathes, eyelashes fluttering and mouth parting with a silent moan.