Page 211 of Knot Baked Out For This
Luca slicks his fingers around my rim, patient even now, stretching and working me until I’m writhing—then, with a single, relentless press, he slides the tip of his cock inside me from behind.
The stretch should hurt, but it’s perfect. Designed for this. For them.
I choke on a cry, nearly coming on the spot, and both Alphas shudder.
“Good?” Levi grits out, even as he rocks into me with growing urgency.
“So good—please, don’t stop, don’t—oh?—”
Luca groans, deep and guttural. He pushes in a little farther, matching Levi’s strokes, syncing their rhythm so I’m full from every angle. Their cocks slide together inside me, separated only by that thin wall, and every nerve ending goes electric.
The barn fills with the sound of rain, their ragged breaths, my own desperate moans. I can’t hold still—my hips try to meet both, lost in the madness of it. The twins are feral, hands everywhere, mouths never satisfied. Levi fists my hair, keepingme rooted, while Luca’s grip on my hips promises I’m not rolling away even if I lose all muscle control.
“Look at her, Lu,” Levi pants. “Taking both of us, like she was made for it.”
“Perfect Omega,” Luca agrees, voice barely human. “Ours.”
Every thrust stokes the heat higher, friction building on friction, so intense I’m not sure where pleasure ends and need begins. My world shrinks to the press of bodies, the squelch of wet skin, the taste of Levi’s tongue in my mouth, the drag of Luca’s teeth on my shoulder.
Scent explodes in the air—honey butter biscuit, thick and spiced, molasses gingerbread edged with wild dark roast, all of it swirling with my own caramel and cinnamon until it’s a cloud of want. The rain’s going harder now, a counterpoint to the slapping of skin on skin, a backdrop for our shared, messy ruin.
They drive into me, harder, faster, pushing each other, working together like two parts of a whole. Every time Levi rams deep, Luca matches him, the fullness ratcheting up until I can’t?—
I can’t.
I come apart, shuddering so hard I almost black out, and the world goes white at the edges. My body clenches around them both, spasming so tight Luca swears under his breath, and Levi’s curse is pure animal as he loses it, thrusting once, twice, then stilling as he spills inside me.
Luca’s not far behind—he pushes in, knot swelling at my rim, and I feel him lock in place, pulsing as he joins Levi in the chorus of surrender.
All three of us groan. Unison—like a song, like a promise.
The aftershocks leave me trembling, sweat-damp and boneless, between two Alphas who don’t even try to pretend this was casual. Luca’s arms tighten, anchoring me to his chest, while Levi goes impossibly soft and nuzzles my jaw, almost purring with content.
Vaguely, I sense the rain slowing, the candlelight gentling. The only thing left is the mix of our scents, heavy and sweet and so, so safe.
I catch myself grinning, dizzy and dazed.
This is what it means to be claimed—not as property, but as the heartbeat at the center of everything.
For the first time in my life, I believe it.
I’m theirs.
And they’re mine.
My muscles have officially left the building.
I’m barely aware of the way Luca and Levi shift around me, except that their skin is hot, their hands gentle, and I’m being cradled—one Alpha to my front, one to my back, both of them humming with satisfaction. I’m pretty sure if the barn caught fire, I’d just let myself roast in this nest, too blissed out to even notice.
But these idiots—these wonderful, infuriating idiots—don’t give me a chance to go comatose.
“Drink,” Levi says, voice as bossy as ever. There’s a glass pressed to my lips, cool water sloshing with the kind of clarity my brain lacks. He pours it in slow, careful sips, thumb stroking the corner of my mouth so I don’t spill all over the pillows. (I spill anyway. He grins.)
I try to sit up, but Levi tuts and tips me gently against his bare chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat practically a lullaby. “Hey, you gotta hydrate. Heat’s a marathon, sunshine, not a sprint. You don’t want to cramp.”
The glass is swapped for fruit—juicy, cold, and sliced so thin it’s basically dessert. Levi dangles a slice over my lips, and when I open, he slips it in with a ridiculous flourish, like he’s serving me at a five-star resort instead of our jumbled cuddle pile.
I’m trying to bask, but the dude’s relentless.
