Page 103 of Heat Clinic

Me laying on my side, my legs pressed together and showing only the seam of my sex and the gleam of my jeweled plug peeking out through my cheeks. Cum drips down my sex, following the curve of my body as it trickles down my lips and over that spot where the thigh meets ass before beading in a fat drop.

Tom’s long cock rising from his thatch of dark hair with my face pressed against Sam’s as I lick the shaft and he licks the balls. A pearl of pre-cum gathers at the slitted tip, balanced precariously and suspended forever in this captured moment.

It continues to Sam’s mating ceremony. It shows Sam kneeling at Marcus’s feet, his silver plug catching the light as he looks up at the imposing, naked alpha. Marcus looks larger than life from the low angle, like a statue of a Greek god. His broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist. He’s stacked with muscles and almost twice the size of Sam.

In the next one, Sam’s lips wrap around that cock and they’re shiny with spit, his cheek pouching out where Marcus’s head presses against the skin from inside. Then, in the next one, Sam is held to Marcus’s chest, thick arms caging him in. There’s a closeup of their bite, Sam’s head rolling to the side as teeth rip into the patch of skin between neck and shoulder. A thin rivulet of blood escapes the alpha’s blood-stained teeth.

Then there’s me, kneeling in the nest, my hands on my thighs in proper submissive posture and the nipple and clit clamps dangling and gleaming. Next Sam is underneath Marcus, a closeup of their grinding hips as the alpha takes him for the first time, the edge of Sam’s ringed cock barely visible from the way they’re turned. Now it’s me riding Tom, my collar around my throat and my breasts swaying and blurry with movement. The gold chain that connects the nipple clamps catches the light where it’s twisted up in his long fingers.

And that’s the end.

For now.

There’s plenty of room in the back of the album for more pages to be added.

“That was beautiful,” Marcus says, his voice gravelly and thick with emotion. He closes the book and rubs his hand over the cover lovingly.

“The printer can add to it as soon as I get these new images processed,” Tom says. “Sam helped me with these. He has a good eye for this.”

Sam blushes. “I’m only doing what you tell me to.”

“I love it,” Marcus says, putting the book down on the coffee table. He leans over and kisses Tom. “Thank you.”

Through our bond, I feel how happy our alpha is, and through his bond I catch an echo of the others. It’s comforting knowing they’re there. That they always will be and I’ll never be alone again.

Marcus turns to me and kisses me, his lips gentle. “Thank you.” He reaches across me and grab’s Sam’s hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles. “Thank you.”

I clutch my wineglass to my chest and slump against Marcus, cuddling against him. Sam sits on the other side of me on the couch and presses his weight against me. Tom leans his head on Marcus’s shoulder, and we all stay like that, piled up and happy and basking until the dryer buzzes and we head to bed with freshly laundered sheets.

We make the bed and settle into the nest, none of us ready to leave it yet even though my heat’s over and we’re all exhausted. The wine goes straight to my head, my stomach empty these last three days except for the flavors of my mates, and I curl up between them, sandwiched and warm while someone draws swirls onto my back.

It’s bliss.

“We should have a big ceremony,” Marcus says after a while, pulling me awake from the half-asleep state I was resting in. “Have all our family and friends come and celebrate.”

“A big ceremony?” I crack my heavy eyelids open and stare at the twinkle lights.

“Mmhmm. Won’t your mom be disappointed if we don’t?” he asks. His breath fans my forehead as he nuzzles into my hair. “I know she expected you to stay a beta and get married. She probably expected you to have a wedding.”

Fuck. I hadn’t even thought of that. The notion that I’ll have to live with a lifetime ofmy other daughter didn’t even have a ceremonymakes me want to hide in my nest and never come out. She would never let that go. It would get brought up at every single Thanksgiving and Christmas. “Uh… sure.”

He kisses my hair and hugs me tighter. But I stay awake for a while, even when they’re all snoring.

Fuck.

Okay, I can do this.

ChapterTwenty-Seven

EMILY

I can’t do this.The event planner hunts me down like a big game shooter on safari, even though I’m hiding in the bathroom. Her heels click on the tile, and I lift my feet up onto the seat. Maybe she didn’t see my legs?

I don’t know what to tell this woman. She keeps asking me to pick things and make decisions, and then I have to admit I don’t know the difference between dining à la russe and à la française. I can’t do this. They’ll know that I’m a fraud. That I’m not some sophisticated woman who knows how to throw a lavish party. I thought it was just going to be friends and family celebrating our mating. I didn’t know that almost half of New York City and London would be here. The ballroom holds five hundred, she told me proudly. Five hundred! I don’t even know five hundred people.

“Mrs. Orello? I’m so sorry to disturb you but it’s been half an hour, and the kitchen needs an answer because they’ll need to plan if we want to get the best choices when they go shopping first thing in the morning. And if you’re dining à la russe, we’ll need to arrange for more centerpieces with the florist.”

“That, uh, sounds fine. Let’s do that.” I put my feet down and stand, unlocking the bathroom door and facing the music. To her credit, the woman doesn’t gawk at me. Instead, she scribbles on her clipboard.

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