Page 63 of Rook

“Sorry… I’m so sorry,” she gasps out, her grey eyes shimmering with unshed tears as they lock with mine. It’s a look that slices through the haze of lust, grounding me with its intensity.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Aisling. Nothing at all.” The words tumble from me, fervent and insistent.

But she shakes her head, her body writhing between us, caught in the throes of overwhelming sensation and emotion. “I didn’t mean—“

“Shh, now’s not the time,” I cut her off, my tone softening despite the urgency clawing inside me. “Let’s just get you through this heat.”

She nods, surrendering to the moment, and I take that as my cue. I angle myself, pushing deeper, anchoring her to the present, to me. Then, with a measured movement, I guide Luka, easing him into position.

“Ready?” I ask him, and he gives a tight nod, like he’s barely holding back. It reminds me that this is his first real time fucking her—when he wasn’t out of his mind on eros.

We all needed this.

“Good. Now go slow,” I say, my voice low, almost a growl, as I focus on Aisling’s reactions.

Luka complies, and I can feel his cock entering her, the insane pressure making my whole body erupt in goosebumps. Aisling’s groan is a raw sound of pleasure laced with pain, her fingers digging into my back. Her eyes never leave mine, though, holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered to sanity amidst the storm of her heat.

I search her face, looking for the love that I know we’ve both fought so damn hard for. It’s there, beneath the wild need, as real and as fierce as the day I first claimed her.

“See? You’re doing great,” I tell her, my voice soothing, though my own body is anything but calm. My instincts are screaming at me to move, to thrust, to claim, but I hold back, giving Luka the space he needs to join us fully.

“Gun…” she starts, choking on whatever apology or confession lies on the tip of her tongue.

“None of that,” I tell her firmly, silencing her with a kiss that’s all possession and homecoming. “We’re here now, together. That’s all that matters.”

Her response is a sob that she stifles against my shoulder, and I feel the wetness of her tears as she clings to me. My heart clenches, but I push aside the ache, focusing on her, on us, on the primal dance that’s as old as time itself.

“Love you, Aisling. Always have, always will,” I murmur against her ear, and I feel her shiver, a reaction that has nothing to do with the fever of her heat and everything to do with the bond that ties us together.

“Love you too,” she whispers back, her voice steadier now, and it’s all the confirmation I need.

And with that, I let the beast within take over.

The room is a whirl of sensations—the rustling of sheets, the heavy breathing, the relentless heat—but I only focus on Aisling. Her leg wraps around my hip, pulling me deeper, and I grip her thigh like I’m holding onto salvation itself. The movement rolls us onto our sides, and I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her close.

“God, I missed you,” I say as I press my forehead to hers. My voice comes out raw, like it’s been dragged over the coals of the hell I’ve been through without her. She starts to come undone between us, her inner walls clamping down in that way that always felt like she was trying to keep me inside her forever.

“Gun…Gunnar…” Her voice is breathless, a mix of pleasure and pain that cuts right through me.

“Hush, love. I got you.” And I do. I have her in every way a man can have a woman, and yet it still feels like I’m the one who’s been claimed.

Her eyes lock onto mine, grey storms of emotion, and something unspoken passes between us. It’s raw and real, the kind of connection that doesn’t need words.

Then the door creaks open, and I can smell him before I even turn my head—Oberon, with his quiet strength and unwavering loyalty. Without breaking the rhythm, I glance over my shoulder and jerk my chin, signaling for him to get closer.

“Get in here,” I growl, low and urgent. He doesn’t hesitate, taking a few measured steps toward the bed where Aisling writhes between us. His presence fills the room, another layer of heat in the already sweltering air.

Aisling’s fingers dig into my skin, and I welcome the sting. It’s nothing compared to the ache of needing her, of having her so close after everything that’s happened. Oberon might be here to help her through the heat, but right now, it feels like we’re the ones being healed.

“Oberon,” I say, my voice a command that brooks no argument, “She needs us. All of us.”

He nods, a silent acknowledgment as he sheds his clothes with efficient movements. There’s no shame or hesitation; we’re beyond that, driven by the primal need to tend to our omega.

I shift slightly, allowing space for Oberon as he approaches the bed, his gaze never leaving her. Her eyes flicker to him, and something like relief flashes across her face.

She has us all.

Finally.

---