Page 27 of Reckless Consequences

The knowledge that I can affect his control is intoxicating, but so is the protective surge that makes me take more of the work, adjust the angle to require less exertion from him. Something about caring for him even as he pleasures me creates a feedback loop of intensifying sensation.

“That’s it,” Ryker encourages, his voice a deep rumble that sends shivers through me. “Make him lose that control, Cayenne.”

The challenge lights something in me. I redouble my efforts, pushing back against Finn’s thrusts, rotating my hips in a way that makes him curse under his breath—a rare break in his usual precise speech. I keep the pace gentler than I might have before his illness, but somehow the restraint adds intensity.

“Close,” he warns, hands tightening on my hips, breath coming in shorter bursts. “You’re too perfect. Too tight.”

“Let go,” I urge, needing to see him break, to experience his release. “I’ve got you, Finn.”

His rhythm falters, the precision giving way to something more desperate. When he finally breaks, it’s with a sound I’ve never heard from him before—raw and unrestrained, his body curling over mine as pleasure takes him. The sensation of his release triggers another small orgasm in me, gentler than before but no less satisfying.

As we recover, I find myself drawn back to Theo, whose need has only grown more urgent while watching Finn and me together. His skin glows with renewed fever, slick shining on his thighs, eyes wild with desperate hunger.

“Need more,” he pants, reaching for all of us. “Need everything. All of you.”

Finn studies him with intensity. “His heat’s spiking again,” he observes, one hand finding Theo’s forehead to check his temperature. “This will be the peak wave.”

“He needs knotting,” Ryker states, the words carrying no judgment, only assessment. “It’s the only way to fully satisfy an Omega heat.”

The statement sends a thrill of anticipation through me, along with disappointment that I can’t provide what Theo needs most. As if reading my thoughts, Finn’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently.

“You’ve given him exactly what he needed,” he assures me. “Now let the Alphas finish what we’ve started.”

Something in his phrasing strikes me—not dismissing what we’ve done, but framing it as the essential beginning of a process we’re all part of. Not competition, but cooperation. Not hierarchy, but harmony.

“I want to watch,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can censor them. “I want to see all of it.”

Jinx’s grin turns feral. “Voyeuristic tendencies confirmed,” he purrs, clearly approving. “I love it.”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I don’t back down. “Not voyeuristic,” I correct. “I just... I want to know everything about us. All the connections, all the ways we fit together. I need to understand.”

Finn’s gaze softens. “Of course you do,” he says, understanding lighting his eyes. “Information is how you process the world. Knowledge makes you feel secure.”

The simple understanding—that my need to witness isn’t prurient but fundamental to how I integrate experiences—makes my chest tight with emotion. These men see me, truly see me, in ways no one else ever has.

When Theo rouses from his brief post-orgasmic haze, his heat fever has receded just enough to allow greater awareness. He stretches, taking inventory of the pack with an artist’s appreciation, gaze lingering on each of us in turn.

“You look better,” he tells Finn, fingers tracing the improved color in Finn’s cheeks with obvious relief.

“I feel better,” Finn confirms, capturing Theo’s hand to press a kiss to his palm—a gesture so tender it makes my breath catch.

Theo’s gaze shifts to me, then the Alphas, something deliberate forming in his expression. “I want to try something,” he announces, voice stronger than it’s been since his heat began. “All of us. Together.”

The suggestion hangs in the air. Ryker’s mind immediately works through positions, his head tilting slightly. “How do you envision it?”

I find myself leaning in, fascinated, as Theo talks through it like he’s sketching a masterpiece. His hands move with purpose, drawing out shapes and angles that make even Jinx raise an eyebrow.

“Ambitious,” Finn comments, but his voice carries intrigued approval.

What follows shouldn’t work—not logistically, not physically—but somehow it does. Theo on his hands and knees, Ryker behind him, finally giving him what his body has been begging for. I’m beneath Theo, close enough to hold his gaze, to ground him. Finn’s tucked beside me, where Theo can reach for him when the waves hit hard. And Jinx—of course Jinx—completes the circle, touching all of us, watching everything.

It should feel awkward. Like a puzzle we forced into place. But it doesn’t. It feels inevitable. Sacred, almost. Like a ritual older than any of us. Each of us exactly where we’re meant to be—every breath, every touch, part of something bigger. Pack.

“Ready?” Ryker asks, the question directed not just to Theo but to all of us.

Collective agreement flows through us, no words needed. When Ryker finally pushes into Theo, the Omega’s cry of completion vibrates through all of us, as his body accepts what it’s been needing since the heat began.

“Yes,” Theo gasps, heat-glazed eyes finding mine as his body rocks forward with Ryker’s first thrust. “Perfect. So perfect.”

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