Page 75 of Knot Your Baby

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Zane says.

“She is.”

Just hearing two alphas talking like this is enough for my pussy to spasm and despite Miller trying to pin me to the bed, I’m meeting his thrusts, wanting to come and feeling so close to the edge.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me and I’ll knot you,” Miller growls. Every word sounds like he’s trying to hold back his orgasm until he feels me coming on his cock.

“Miller,” I garble around Zane’s dick.

Zane’s cock twitches in my mouth, just before he curses and his cum jets into my throat.

I swallow his thick, hot liquid. My pussy is pulsing, and I can’t hold back any longer.

“Come for me, omega.” Miller’s length swells inside me, and I know he won’t knot me if I don’t come first.

Not that I can stop it. I cry out his name as my pussy vibrates and my back crests upward. He roars above me, cursing as he slams inside me, knotting me.

My mouth opens as I cry out.

With Miller’s knot locked inside me, he drops his body flat on mine. Our bodies are slick with sweat and slick. And I’m full of my alphas cum.

“You’re perfect, omega,” Miller whispers as our fingers weave.

We lie there panting heavily on the bed when Zane settles beside me, kissing my mouth. “She is, and she’s ours.”

Inside, I’m bouncing on a jumping castle, as enthusiastic as a small child. But they are forgetting about the formidable Thorne and his lack of anything for me.

“I need to get up and feed and bathe Stone before he gets grouchy.” Just like his dad, I shake away the thoughts of Thorne—for now.

“I’ll do it,” Zane says. “You relax.”

“Thorne has him,” Miller reminds me.

“Oh yeah.”

“Give me a few minutes, I want to feed him,” Miller says, and laughs. “But first, you’ll have to relax your pussy so I can slip out of you.”

Chapter 21

Thorne

The crash of wavesagainst the shore should drown out their sounds, but somehow Freya’s cries of joy cut through everything else. Because I’ve sat on the balcony trying to listen to the ocean and not the sound of Miller and my brother fucking her. But they are and I can slowly feel my resolve slip. I want to join them. I want to feel her body underneath mine.

I don’t understand it. It’s not because they are pounding into her. I’m certainly not jealous of my pack enjoying her. I envy her moans, that I’m not there helping to make those sounds.

Listening as she begs for more. But I hate myself for it.

Conflict tears at me—wanting her so badly while knowing I shouldn’t. But why is every breathless gasp that carries through the house making my hands grip the bottle in my hand tighter?

“Open up,” Miller grunts.

My jaw clenches as I fight the primal urge to go to her.

Her whine cuts through the wind that comes from the sea. And the cool night air does nothing to calm the heat building inside me. Nothing can.

I rattle the bottle of scent blockers in my hand. Just one more to stop her strawberry scent from seeping from the room, down the staircase, like it’s searching for my nose. I glance through the transparent casing. Looking at the little white pills as they mock me, while promising relief from this torment.

I can’t stand it. It's not knowing if her perfume is real or fake. But luckily for me, only the strawberry scent is prevalent right now—and one scent is not enough for me to believe her just yet.

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