Page 157 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

She shattered under him, back arching, a scream tearing from her throat as her walls spasmed around his cock. Ronan didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, murmuring filth and praise against her skin until she was shaking from overstimulation.

“More,” she begged, delirious, mind gone. “Please, I need it, I need you?—”

He flipped her onto her knees in one motion, dragging her hips back and slamming into her from behind. She cried out, bracing herself on the pillows as he claimed her with brutal, perfect precision.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Take all of me.”

She could barely think. Barely breathe. His hand slipped around to her front, rubbing her clit again, and she shattered a second time, convulsing around him.

And then?—

He knotted.

The sudden swell locked them together, stretching her wide, anchoring him deep. She sobbed, pleasure and pain crashing through her as he jerked inside her, pumping thick, hot release into her womb.

“Mine,” he said again, panting against her back. “Always fucking mine.”

She collapsed onto the pillows, his body blanketing hers, knot locking them together as her heat dulled into something quiet, warm.

The ache was still there.

But for now… it had been answered.

The ache had receded,but not vanished.

Serenity lay draped across the nest, panting softly as Ronan’s weight stayed on top of her just a bit longer, grounding her. His knot was still locked inside, pulsing lazily, keeping her full even as exhaustion wrapped her like a blanket.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“You good, Omega?”

She managed a weak nod, but her throat felt dry, cracked.

“Water,” she rasped.

He shifted behind her. “Darius is already bringing it.”

The door opened with the quiet hiss of a man used to moving through enemy lines. Serenity turned her head sluggishly to see Darius Castellano, crisp in black despite the hour, despite the chaos of the last twelve hours, carrying a chilled glass of water like it was a priceless artifact.

He knelt beside the bed, his piercing gray eyes scanning her, lingering over every inch of exposed skin with clinical care… and something far darker beneath it. “You’re dehydrated,” he said smoothly, offering the glass.

Her fingers trembled too much to grasp it.

Darius didn’t hesitate. He slid one arm beneath her shoulders, propping her up just enough to bring the glass to her lips. His other hand cradled the back of her head as he tipped it slowly.

“Small sips,” he murmured.

She drank, and the coolness slid down her throat like salvation. But the moment she finished, her body reminded her that relief had only been partial. Heat still pulsed between her legs, softer but coiled—ready to flare again.

Darius knew. Of course he did. He could read her body like a ledger.

“She’s still not through the worst of it,” he said, casting a glance at Ronan, who had finally slipped free, knot receding.

“I know,” Ronan said. He leaned in, brushing his lips across her temple. “You need anything from me, I’m right here.”

Serenity blinked up at Darius, then past him—where Lucian leaned against the wall like sin given form, watching with dark amusement.

“I’ll take the next round,” Lucian said, pushing off with a lazy grace. “Give her a minute. Or don’t.”

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