Page 62 of Rook

“Almost there, Ais,” I assure her, trying to keep my voice steady while my body reacts to every little move she makes.

“Please,” she begs, and it’s a punch straight to the gut, that single word wrapped in vulnerability and desire.

“Fuck,” I mutter again, because what else can I say? She’s everything—my omega, my torment, my salvation.

“Right here, Gunnar,” Luka says, nodding toward the massive bed that dominates the suite.

“Thanks,” I manage to say, carrying Aisling over to the bed, not bothering to take in the rest of the room. There’s only one thing that matters right now: getting Aisling through this heat with her—and our—sanity intact.

The moment we reach the bed, a nest of plush covers and cushions designed for an omega’s heat, I release her, and she lands with a soft bounce. Aisling doesn’t pause; she arches up from the mattress, her body a beacon calling me back in. In one fluid motion, I rip my shirt over my head, buttons popping off and scattering like shrapnel.

“Come here!” She’s frantic, her voice husky, fingers clawing at the air between us.

“Easy, Stargazer,” I growl, but it’s all for show. There’s nothing ‘easy’ about this, about us, especially not now. The rest of my clothes are a hindrance, and they’re gone—kicked aside, forgotten.

In the next heartbeat, I’m on her. Her legs wrap around me instinctively as I pin her down, my hands gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks that’ll last for days. “Gunnar!” she cries out, and there’s no other sound in the world that could fuel me more.

I thrust into her, hard and unyielding, and she meets me with equal ferocity. It’s a primal dance between two forces bound by something deeper than reason or logic. We move together, the slick sound of our union filling the room, drowning out the hum of the city beyond these walls.

I don’t wait; I shove my knot inside her, the clench of her pussy almost making me come right away. “Mine,” I grunt, every muscle tensed as I drive deeper into her heat.

“Yours,” she gasps, her eyes wild, reflecting a storm of emotions—desire, pain, love. It’s a twisted kind of beauty, watching her unravel beneath me.

Aisling’s hand flails, reaching out for something more, a desperate plea without words. I catch her wrist and see it in her eyes—she’s not just lost in the heat; she’s searching for every piece of us, trying to pull us all into her orbit.

“Luka,” I snap, my voice hard as nails. He knows what I mean. He’s already stripping off his clothes, movements hurried but deliberate. I keep my eyes locked with Aisling’s, watching as he positions himself by the bed. “Get under her. She needs to be filled by her pack…by all of us.”

I lift her up like she weighs nothing, cradle her against me to give Luka room. The sight of him readying himself stokes the fire in my veins. It’s messed up, the way we’re bound together, but right now, none of that matters.

We’re here to quench her fire, to satisfy the need clawing at her insides.

“Look at me, Aisling,” I command, grasping her hair just shy of too rough, making her focus on my face. Her grey eyes, usually sharp like a storm about to break, are hazy but pin me down just the same. “I love you. You’re mine—all of you—and I’m yours.” It’s a vow, a claim, and a surrender all at once.

“Yours,” she breathes again, and it’s a benediction that sears through me. She’s more than heat and lust; she’s the gravity that keeps my world from spinning out of control.

I watch as Luka reaches for her, his touch tentative at first but growing bolder under my nod of approval. Aisling’s hips give an involuntary jerk, seeking the completion she craves, searching for him—her instinct overpowering her senses.

“Breathe,” I growl softly, keeping my voice steady despite the chaos she stirs within me. It reminds me of that first heat I spent with her—taking her through it, still green enough that I wasn’t sure what to do, and fully, madly in love. “Stay still, Aisling.”

She freezes, a small whimper escaping her lips as I guide her down onto him. The connection is made, his cock pressing slowly inside her ass, and her body relaxes into the sensation.

She’s caught between us, and I’ve never felt more possessive or more protective.

“Good girl,” I murmur against her skin, feeling every quiver that runs through her body. She’s lightning, and I’m grounding her…or at least, I’m trying.

Her compliance unravels something in me, something tight and frayed from our time apart. Every moment without her was a dull ache, a constant throb of something missing—a piece of myself I couldn’t reach. But now, with her here, pulsing and alive beneath me, it’s like I can finally breathe again.

“Missed you,” I admit, my voice rough with the emotion I don’t have a name for. “More than you know.”

“Gun—“ Her attempt to speak cuts off as another wave of her heat hits, and her back arches, pressing her closer to both of us.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just feel,” I instruct, my hands roaming over her, claiming every inch of skin as mine once more. My world narrows down to her—the scent of her need, the heat of her skin, the sounds she makes.

It’s all-consuming, this dance of flesh and desire, and I am utterly devoted to its rhythm. As much as this is about her heat, about the primal need to claim and be claimed, there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something fiercely tender.

“Always been yours, Gunnar.” Her whisper is ragged, breaking through her delirium, and it punches straight through my chest.

“Damn right,” I affirm, the words a growl of possession and promise.

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