Page 133 of Stream Heat
The knot thickened slowly, stretching me wider until it seated with a deep, inevitable lock. My walls fluttered around the swell, every pulse sending another wave of sensation spiraling through me.
“That’s it,” he murmured, stroking my hip. “Now you can’t run. Not from me. Not from this.”
The knot throbbed, heat spreading through my core with every measured grind of his hips. His hand found my clit again, slow at first, then circling with deliberate rhythm until my breath fractured.
“Come again,” he ordered, his own voice breaking with the strain. “Tighten on my knot. Make sure it knows who you belong to.”
The second orgasm tore through me, sharper for the fullness holding me open. My cry was muffled against his shoulder, but the way I clenched around him dragged a groan from his chest.
He stayed buried, the knot keeping us locked as our breathing slowed. He pressed his forehead to mine, his scent flooding over me, cool, sharp, edged with the dark, claiming note that would cling to me for days.
“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured. “Filled. Marked. Held.”
And with the knot pulsing between us and the burn of his bite still fresh at my nape, I knew he was right.
When he finally let go, we were both shaking. He stayed inside me, pressed forehead to mine, catching his breath. It felt like he’d given me something vital.
“Ash,” I whispered, and it meant everything and nothing all at once.
He understood. “I know,” he murmured back. “I felt it, too.”
The new bond was a pillar, humming under my skin. Different from the others, but not in competition. Reid’s was safety. Theo’s was joy, Jace’s was knowing. Ash’s? Foundation. The thing that held it all together, the structure I’d never thought I’d need.
He slipped out, careful not to hurt me. I thought he’d let me go, but he just bundled me up in his arms, holding me as if it was the only thing that would keep us both standing.
“You need rest,” he said, back to normal but softer, almost gentle. “And food. We’ll have to watch your system while the new bond settles in.”
I nodded into his chest, so drained I was floating. He helped me get dressed. I touched the fresh bite at my nape, not quite believing how different it felt to the others.
“Different,” I said quietly.
He covered my hand with his, large and warm. “As it should be. Every bond for every need.”
He was right, and suddenly, I understood. Reid claimed me for safety. Theo for joy. Jace for silent understanding. Ash forunwavering, necessary strength. Each mark was a promise, not just of ownership but of what only they could give.
But there was one left. One place in the network that hadn’t been filled. Malik.
Ash guided me out of the workshop, his hand heavy at the small of my back. I felt the pack bonds settle and adjust, four pieces slotted together, almost, but not quite, all the way.
Just one more bond waiting to be forged. One last link in the chain that would finally make me whole.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Kara
Malik’s voice had been the first thing I heard, soft and steady, bleeding through my bedroom door. He had been streaming a morning meditation again, some daily mindfulness ritual that had become such a staple in our apartment, it was basically white noise at that point. Actually, no, it was more familiar than white noise. I’d gotten used to the background hum of it, the cadence of his breath, the way his words would swell and fade, like waves moving in and out without ever breaking.
“…breathe in for four counts, hold for two, release for six. Feel the tension leave your body with each exhale…”
I stretched, shook sleep from my limbs, and the pack bonds hummed along with me. I was hyper-aware of the claiming marks on my body, a new, not-unpleasant sensation. Reid’s teeth on my left shoulder (protective as hell), Theo’s wild imprint on the right (no surprise), Jace’s neat little mark on my wrist, and Ash’s bite at the nape of my neck, anchoring everything else. Each one felt different. Each one made sense. These four Alphas, with their four flavors of obsession, and all of them had left something on me, a physical reminder, but also something more. Something fundamental.
And it should have felt complete, but it didn’t.
Not quite.
Because Malik.
He was the missing piece. Not just in the technical way, where his bond hadn’t sparked, that was part of it, but deeper than that, too. It was like my entire nervous system was holding its breath, waiting for the last chord to resolve. The symphony of it all was beautiful, sure. But there should have been a fifth movement. A final note. His.
