Page 82 of The Princess and the Pack

“Patience, love,” I tsk, giving her arse a swat that has slick dripping down her thighs. “Only patient omegas get to come.”

The threat is empty, of course. I’m not so cruel as to deny her what she desires in this most vulnerable state. I line my cock up and thrust slowly inside her, relishing in the snug familiarity of her perfect cunt.

“Fuck.”

My eyes roll back as the promise of release settles at the base of my spine. Ivy’s been teasing me for far too long with her endless edging, and I’m in no mood to waste time. I mold myself against her back—pinning her under my weight as I flex my hips and relentlessly rut into her.

Ivy screams, overwhelmed by the depth in which I’m fucking her. Our bond fizzles with the pleasure of being well handled and I’m half a breath from losing myself to the wave of euphoria.

“Fucking you is a revelation, love. Every time is life-changing.” I pant.

She likes that, tightening around me—clawing at the bed and pushing her arse back against me in a plea for more.

I dig my fingers into the sheets, shifting to anchor myself as I fuck her with every last ounce of energy I possess—until she gushes all around me and my eyes cross from the pressure of my knot sliding into her. The perfect sensation of being locked inside the snug heat of her is a gift for which I’m not worthy.

“Oran,” Ivy sighs. “Your knot isso good. I feel so spoiled.”

I laugh, shaking both our bodies with the force of it. I can’t believe the first complete sentence she said in days is about my knot.

“Is that you, love? Coming back, are you?”

She hums a confirmation. “I love your knot. Love you.”

I laugh harder, but regret it at once when she tightens around me. I’m so fucking sensitive I could come out of my skin. But with Ivy, even the pain is pleasure.

“You don’t feel so warm anymore,” I say, as I nuzzle into the soft skin behind her ear. Her scent is still strong here but her skin is no longer burning up like before.

Perhaps this really is the end, and maybe I’m just a bit sad over it. But she’s mine in every way. We’ll have more heats to share now that she’s bound us all together—made us a proper pack.

“Sleep, alpha,” she mumbles. “Still so tired.”

“As you wish,” I say, rolling us to our side so we can sleep without me worrying I’ll crush her.

We lay locked together, dozing as our pack sleeps soundly around us. I thank the gods for giving her to me, and drift into dreams that pale in comparison to this reality.

The bright light of morning has broken into my nest, rousing me from my much needed rest. It seems one of my alphas dared to draw the curtains wide while I slept.

Being in heat is such a peculiar thing. The lack of control I had in my mind and body should have terrified me, but my mates worked so very hard to keep me satisfied and secure. My trust in them is now a sturdy, unshakable thing that will continue to grow as we nurture our fresh bonds.

My entire body aches, my nest smells of days’ worth of debauchery, and I’m exhausted beyond measure. But never have I been so content. Oran has wrapped himself around me. My head rests beneath his chin, while he spoons me from behind. Cillian is plastered to my front so I can hear his beating heart.

It’s almost exactly like the familiar, not so fond memory of when I learned of the secrets they’d been keeping. But none of that matters anymore. I feel their love for me and their concern for my well-being through our bonds. I’m certain now that they have never andwould nevermean to harm me in any manner. There’s so much clarity that comes with these connections, and I’m beyond grateful for it.

“Good morning, petal,” my prime alpha calls, standing near the bed.

He’s half-dressed in only his trousers. Despite the hours we spent tangled together, I’ll admit I’m disappointed; he’s so enticing to look at naked.

“Good morning.” My voice is raspy, hoarse with sleep and all the screaming that came during the craze of heat.

I wiggle my way from between my alphas, though both try with sleep-dreary limbs to keep me close. When I crawl to the edge of the bed, Sloan meets me there—kisses me slowly as he cups my cheeks in his hands.

“Are you well?” he asks, turning my cheek to begin a visual inspection of my body. Every little bruise, every mark was placed there with love.

“I’ve never felt better,” I smile. “All thanks to you three.”

“Gods, Ivy. You know how to make an alpha feel useful.”

“Of course you’re useful, alpha,” I laugh. “Your knot is a wonder.”

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