Page 77 of Knotting With A Stranger

He turns back, eyebrow raised in question.

“Soon, I need your tongue again,” I blurt out, the filter between my brain and mouth completely vanishing.

The room goes still. Hunter stiffens behind me, and Archer’s head whips around so fast, I’m surprised he doesn’t hurt himself.

“Again?” Archer repeats, his gaze darting between James and me.

James merely grins, a slow, satisfied expression spreading across his face. “Soon, baker girl. When you’re ready for all of us.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” Hunter demands, his arm tightening around my waist.

James shrugs, not bothering to hide his smugness. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

The memory of the kitchen counter, of James on his knees before me, of his mouth working between my thighs, flashes vividly through my mind. My body responds instantly, and a rush of wetness makes me squirm against Hunter.

“You bastard,” Hunter mutters, but there’s something besides anger in his voice—a dark heat that matches the one building inside me.

“Later,” Archer says firmly, pushing James toward the door. “We’ve got work to do.”

They leave, closing the door behind them, and suddenly, it’s just Hunter and me in the nest I’ve built. His lips press against my neck, warm and surprisingly gentle.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “Wild and unguarded.”

I laugh weakly. “I feel like a mess. I can’t think straight unless I’m near you or your scent.” My fingers trace aimless patterns on his arm. “I barely slept last night, but once I woke, I was... overwhelmed. This need to be surrounded by all three of your things. Your smells.” Panic rises. “Please don’t leave me.”

His arms tighten. “I won’t.”

Something about the safety of his embrace, the security of being held so firmly, breaks open a vulnerability I usually keep tightly contained.

“Growing up, I had this fear of being left... after my mother died,” I confess quietly. “My dad did his best, but he was devastated. Sometimes, I felt invisible.” I turn slightly to see his face. “Then no Alpha would react to me. Like I was truly invisible. They might date me, but I had no effect on them. None.” The memory of rejection burns almost as hot as the fever in my veins. “One guy told me Imight as well be a betafor all the reaction I got from him. Another suggested I see a doctor because, clearly, something was wrong with my pheromones.”

I curl tighter into myself, the old hurt still raw despite the years. “I eventually stopped trying. Decided maybe they were right—something in me was broken.”

Hunter’s hand strokes my arm soothingly. “Maybe it wasn’t the time,” he suggests. “Or maybe they weren’t the right men. Because the moment you walked in, you blew us all away. Your scent, your presence.” A confession rumbles from his chest. “Now, we’re obsessed.”

I feel the truth of it in the tension of his body, the careful way he holds me—restraining himself even as he provides comfort.

“But no rush,” he adds, his tone shifting to reassuring. “We’ll take it easy. Ready when you are.”

I stiffen slightly at the implication. “Ready for rutting, right? Knotting me?”

The crude words hang between us.

Hunter’s breath hitches. “Does it scare you?”

I consider lying, then decide against it. What’s the point of pretense now when I’m literally nesting in his clothing?

“Fuck, yeah,” I admit. “What if I can’t get enough during the heat?”

His chuckle vibrates through me. “That’s not a problem, trust me.”

His hand spans my waist, large and warm. “Not between the three of us... if that’s what you want. All of us.”

“Yes,” I say, almost too quickly. Then I amend, “Yes, please.”

The words taste foreign on my tongue, but once they’re out, there’s no taking them back. Heat rushes to my face, my skin burning as if I’ve just stripped myself bare.

Three.

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