Page 45 of In Their Arms

And just to make it better, I raise my hand up to my lips, sucking his release into my mouth. Grayson’s eyes darken, Maceo letting out another groan, no doubt his knot swelling just a little more. “Luther, please. We’re here torturing Grayson, not me.”

Now, that just sounds like a challenge. Maceo may never be mine the way he is for the others but that doesn’t mean I can’t play. I step up to them, wrapping my hand around Grayson’s cock again and give it just the slightest bit of pleasure. It’s an immediate reaction, both of them groaning, Grayson twitching in my hand. I know from experience that Maceo’s flooding Grayson’s ass, his knot staying plugged there for a bit longer.

When Maceo throws me one of his no nonsense looks, I realize that I really and truly do love this game.

29

Luca

The waiting is unbearable. Every second that ticks by feels like a slow drag against my nerves, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. We were supposed to have the results by now, supposed to know if this baby is ours or Hudson’s, but there’s been nothing. Every time my phone buzzes, my stomach knots up, only for it to be something meaningless—a notification, an email, something that has nothing to do with the thing that’s been looming over us for days.

I should be more relaxed. I’m sitting in Luther’s lap, warm, safe, and stuffed full of the pasta Maceo made earlier. The entire house still smells like garlic and butter and the lingering scent of sex, my Alphas and Maceo engaging in a threesome that I’m still pissed I wasn’t awake for. They won’t give us any details but the slight blush on Grayson’s cheeks and the Maceo’s smug expression tells me exactly who was in the middle. And even then, I can’t fully settle.

Luther’s hands roam beneath my shirt, his palms broad and warm against my skin, fingers tracing slow circles over my belly. I feel him press down slightly, just enough to feel the soft curve beneath his hands. I’m showing now. Not much, but enough.

I shift slightly in his lap, my breath leaving me in a slow exhale as his fingers keep moving. It’s grounding, the way he touches me, like he’s memorizing every change. Blake’s shorts hang loose on my hips, comfortable but not mine. I hadn’t wanted to wear them at first, but my own pants were impossible to deal with. The waistband dug in too much, a reminder that I’m carrying a little bundle inside of me. Blake had tossed me something of his without a second thought, like he knew I was going to need it before I did.

Quentin warned me this would happen, that between the third and sixth week, my body would change fast. He mentioned morning sickness, food cravings, mood swings. I haven’t felt any of it yet, but I know it’s coming. For now, all I feel is this strange, constant heat under my skin, this low hum in my chest that won’t go away.

Luther’s fingers keep moving, his breath even and steady against my shoulder. I could almost fall asleep like this, could almost drift off—

Then he tweaks my nipple.

I jolt upright, gasping as a sharp, electric sensation zips down my spine, pooling low in my gut. My skin flushes instantly, heat creeping up my neck as I slap his hand away, twisting to glare at him.

“Luther,” I hiss, trying to ignore the way my thighs clench on instinct. “Too sensitive.”

His chest rumbles with laughter, the deep sound vibrating against my back. Across the room, Grayson chuckles, Maceo smirks over the rim of his glass, and even Blake—half sprawled on the couch, pretending not to listen—grins.

Luther presses a kiss against my temple, completely unapologetic. “Settle.”

But I can’t. My skin feels too tight, too hot, too aware. I shift again in his lap, trying to get comfortable, but it just makes the ache worse. I don’t know when it started—this need, this constant pull toward them, toward touch, toward being held down and taken apart.

I’ve noticed it over the last few days, how much more I reach for them without thinking, how much more I seek out Blake, how much more I crave the weight of Luther’s hands, the scent of Grayson curling around me, even Maceo’s quiet comfort. Before, I was content to let them come to me, to let them take their time.

Now? I don’t want to wait.

Luther’s fingers slip under the waistband of my shorts, just barely dipping below the elastic, and a whimper tears from my throat before I can stop it. Maceo huffs out a quiet laugh from across the room. “Someone’s needy.”

Grayson shakes his head, his lazy grin stretching wider. “Sweetheart, you really think we haven’t noticed?”

I press my forehead into Luther’s chest, my breath coming faster, my fingers gripping his wrist. “I—” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. I just know I want.

Luther tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and amused. “You need something, sweetheart?”

I nod without hesitation, my body already answering for me. Blake stretches on the couch, his shirt riding up just slightly, and he smirks at me, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper. “Then tell us what you need.”

The words send a sharp pulse through me, my body reacting before my brain can catch up. I swallow hard, fingers tightening around Luther’s shirt, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need a knot.”

Luther doesn’t make me wait as he has me stand up, drags down his pants enough to pull his cock out and then pulls me back onto his lap, his full length sliding into me with one thrust. I let out a little cry of pleasure, immediately the irritable sensation falling away. I don’t even get the moment to enjoy as my body cries for more, Luther immediately giving me what I need.

I feel boneless, completely wrung out, my body heavy and warm, my mind slipping between exhaustion and bliss. Everything in me is sated for now, every nerve dulled by the lingering pleasure, but I know it won’t last. It never does.

Blake shifts beside me, rolling onto his stomach with a muffled groan against the pillow. “I can feel every time Luca gets needy, and then it sets me off,” he mutters, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s highly impractical.”

Grayson snorts, rolling onto his back, one arm stretched lazily over his head. “Good. Then maybe you’ll start taking more breaks, because it looks like Luca’s going to be a bit needier now that he’s pregnant.”

Blake groans louder, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. “Oh my god, give me a break.”

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