Page 53 of Break Me Knot

My fractured soul scatters, shattering into ever-smaller pieces as my climax draws close.

My other hand moves to my breast, fingers rolling my nipple as pleasure builds. Every touch sends sparks through my oversensitive body, making me arch. I'm so wet, slick coating my thighs despite the shower's spray. My scent blooms aroundme, mixing with the lingering traces of their scents on my skin to create something intoxicating.

I should stop. Need to stop. But my fingers slide lower, circling my entrance before dipping inside. The emptiness is unbearable, my body clenching around my fingers, wanting more. Needing more. It's not enough. Nothing is enough when my mind is filled with images of them, when their scents surround me, when my body screams for their cocks, their knots and everything I can't have.

Against my will, Cole appears in my fantasy… his dark head between my thighs, his leather and pine scent wrapping around me. I shouldn't think of him, not when he rejected me during my heat, not when he can barely stand to be near me, but the strange fire under my skin demands his presence.

In my fantasy, he wants me.

In my fantasy, he's not disgusted by me.

I picture his tongue replacing my fingers, Adrian's hands on my breasts, Zane's lips on my neck. And Cole…Cole is between my thighs lapping my slicked center. Teasing my clit. Drinking me. All three want me, claim me. The fantasy is so vivid I whimper, my fingers moving faster, deeper, chasing release. In my mind, they whisper praise against my skin, telling me I'm good, I'm theirs.

The pleasure builds higher, tighter, more intense than anything has a right to be. And still their scents surround me, still their imagined touches drive me wild, still my body begs for more.

“Adrian. Zane.” The pleasure crests suddenly, violently. “Cole!” His name tears from my throat as my climax crashes through me. My legs buckle, and I have to brace against the shower wall with my free hand to keep from collapsing. Wave after wave of pleasure pulses through me, my inner walls clenching rhythmically around my fingers, my clit throbbing under my touch.

The sensation is more intense than anything I've experienced outside of heat. My vision whites out, my breath coming in gasping sobs, my whole body trembling with the force of my release. Their scents intensify around me, wrapping me in a cocoon of cedar, vanilla and leather until I’m saturated by them.

As the aftershocks fade, horror creeps in to replace the pleasure. My legs are still shaking, barely holding me up, and I slide down the shower wall to sit under the spray. What have I done? What is happening to me?

This isn't heat. This is just me, wanting things I can't have. Fantasizing about alphas who can never be mine. Calling out names I have no right to speak.

The water continues to fall, but it can't wash away my shame.

Or my lingering desire.

The bathroom door crashes inward with enough force to make me scream. Three alphas burst into the space, pushing against each other to be the first through. Before I can process what's happening, Cole rips open the shower door, reaching for me with urgent movements. Water soaks his expensive clothing, but he doesn't seem to notice.

“Where are you hurt?” His voice is rough as his hands run over my arms, my shoulders. “Did you fall? You called my name.”

Oh Gods. Had I called for Cole too? In the height of my pleasure, did I?

I didn’t just call his name.

I screamed it.

I try to push him away, but it's like trying to move a mountain. He's so big, so solid, and I'm naked and wet and mortified. My arms cross over my breasts as I try to maintain some dignity. “I'm fine! Stop touching me!”

But Cole isn't listening, his hands checking me for injuries, his shirt and tie plastered to his skin by the spray. “Where are you hurt? Tell me!”

“I'm not hurt!” I yell back, frustration and embarrassment making my voice sharp. “Stop touching me. You're not listening!”

I swipe at his hands that keep coming for me. A low chuckle draws my attention to Zane, who's leaning against the shower screen with a smirk. His nostrils flare as he scents the air. “Cole, brother, I don't think she's hurting at all. In fact...” His smirk widens. “I think she was feeling pretty good just now. Very good, considering there were mates named.”

Horror floods through me as I realize they can smell my arousal, my release, my desire for them, all trapped in the steamy air.

Adrian’s nostrils flare as he tips his head back and when he looks down at me, the pupils have swallowed the color out of his eyes. Cole isn’t so obvious, but as he stares at me, his scent grows thicker with his own desire before he freezes. His hands still on my shoulders and water drips from his dark hair. Cole's not pulling away in disgust.

“Oh,” he says softly, and the word contains volumes. I want to die. Right here. Right now. Drown in this shower and never face them again.

Maybe Haven was right about hiding our scents after all.

“Can I have some privacy?” I manage to whisper, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, although the action does nothing to cover up all my private bits.

If Cole doesn't stop touching me soon, they're all going to scent another wave of desire. Heat already pools at my core, my body responding to their proximity… and what is it about their scents magnified in the steam that makes me want to pull them all in here with me? I’m not even experiencing my heat anymore and I’m responding to them. My clit begins to throb. I need to get them the hell away from me.

“Of course. Wouldn't want to interrupt your... alone time.” Zane winks at me, and my face burns.

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