Page 50 of Knot The Nanny We Planned

JD settles between her thighs, and I move to the side, not leaving, just making room. My place is at her hip, my hand on her waist, my mouth available for whatever she needs.

Deklan stays at her head. His hand strokes her hair, his lips press occasional kisses to her forehead, her temples. Steady and grounding.

JD braces himself above her. His cock rests against her stomach, hot, heavy, the length of it spanning from her mound to her navel. His arms are on either side of her shoulders, caging her in, and his black eyes bore into hers.

"Last chance," he says. "Last chance to say no."

"I've been saying no my whole life," Willow whispers. "I want to say yes."

She reaches between them, wraps her hand around his cock, and guides him to her entrance. JD groans. A deep, full-body sound that vibrates through the bed. His hips flex, and the head of his cock pushes inside her.

Willow's mouth falls open and her eyes widen. Her inner walls clench around him, tight, wet, resistance and surrender, and JD stops. Holds. Gives her body time to adjust.

"More," she gasps. "JD, more."

He gives her more. Inch by inch, he sinks into her, and I watch, I watch his cock disappear inside her, watch her body stretch to accommodate him, watch the way her slick eases the passage. The sight is obscene and beautiful, and I am so hard it's killing me.

When he's fully seated inside her, his hips flush against hers, his cock buried to the knot, JD goes still. His forehead drops to her shoulder. His breath comes in ragged gasps.

"Willow," he says against her skin. "You feel, Christ, you feel…"

"I know." Her voice breaks. "I know. Move. Please. Move."

He moves. The first thrust is slow. Deliberate. A long, dragging withdrawal and a deep, filling return. Willow moans, a sound I feel in my spine, and her hands grip JD's shoulders, fingernails digging in.

The second thrust is harder. Faster. The sound of their bodies meeting, skin on skin, wet with slick, fills the room. Obscene and beautiful.

The third thrust makes her scream.

I can't look away. I can't stop watching. JD is above her, massive and dark and powerful, his hips snapping forward with a rhythm that's building in intensity. Willow is beneath him, arching, writhing, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her mouth open, her eyes glazed.

And Deklan is at her head, whispering to her. I can't hear the words, too quiet, too private, but I can see the effect. Willow's expression softens even as her body convulses. She turns her head, finds Deklan's mouth, and kisses him.

The kiss is different from before. Not hungry but desperate and tender. Like she's anchoring herself to him while JD's thrusts threaten to sweep her away.

I lean down and put my mouth on her breast. Her nipple is hard, peaked, and I take it between my lips and suck. She makes a sound, muffled by Deklan's mouth, and her hand flies to my hair, gripping.

Three men. Three points of contact. One omega.

JD's rhythm falters. His thrusts become shorter, harder, more urgent, and I know what's happening: his knot is inflating. The thick base of his cock is swelling, catching on her entrance with every withdrawal, stretching her wider with every push.

"Willow," JD growls. "I can't, I'm going to…"

"Do it," she gasps. "Knot me. JD, please!"

He thrusts forward one last time, and his knot seats itself fully inside her.

Willow screams. Not in pain, in overwhelming, blinding pleasure. Her body locks around him, her inner walls clamping down on the swollen base, and JD roars. The sound is pure Alpha, primal, guttural, and echoing off the walls.

He comes. I can see it, the way his body tenses, pumping rope after rope of cum deep into her core. Willow's eyes roll back, and her body convulses, another orgasm crashing through her, triggered by the knot, by the heat of his release filling her.

I watch her come. I watch JD come. I watch the bond begin to form, the invisible, biological link that will tie them together permanently. And I feel it. Not the full bond, that's JD's and Willow's, but an echo. A resonance. The triple match pulsing through all of us, connecting us.

When the wave passes, JD collapses. Carefully, bracing his weight on his elbows so he doesn't crush her. His face is buried in her neck, and he's whispering something, her name, maybe, or words I'm not meant to hear.

Willow is trembling. Tears stream from the corners of her eyes, not sad tears, but the kind that come when something is too big, too intense, too much for the body to contain. Her hands stroke JD's back, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, and her lips curve into a smile so bright it hurts to look at.

"JD," she whispers.