Page 90 of Knot Your Sugar

"She’s taking it so well," James says, voice thick. "Look at her. She’s coming apart for us."

I am. My body’s buzzing, every nerve singing. The deep stretch of Cole inside me, Dorian’s fingers teasing my clit. It’s too much, and exactly what I need.

James grabs my breast, his touch folding into the heat of Dorian’s fingers and the relentless pounding of Cole’s cock, making my whole body tingle. My walls tighten further around Cole, making him snarl.

"Fuck, Elena—" His knot starts swelling.

A deep tremor starts in my core, spreading outward like wildfire as Dorian circles my clit with unwavering precision. I reach for him blindly, curling my fingers around his cock and stroking in time with his touch.

"Come for us, princess," Dorian breathes, his lips brushing softly along my jaw.

The orgasm hits hard, searing through me in a wave of white-hot bliss. A hoarse scream rips from my throat as I clench around Cole. He groans, driving in hard one last time as he cums inside me, his knot locking us together.

Dorian follows moments later, groaning as he cums across my stomach.

For a long moment, everything is still. All I can hear is the steady thrum of heartbeats and the sweet, sated hum of my omega, purring with satisfaction as I'm cradled between my alphas.

Slowly, the heat haze begins to lift, just enough for a touch of lucidity to slip back in.

I’m going to need a shower... Maybe a snack first.

Chapter forty-eight

Elena

The cool marble tiles of the ridiculously opulent ensuite are a welcome shock against my flushed skin.

I step into the shower, a glass-walled behemoth that could easily host a small dinner party, and let the hot water cascade over me. It washes away the sweat, the lingering traces of my alphas, but it does little to quench the fire still simmering within. It was good. Oh, yes it wassogood. But my heat, it seems, has a multi-day agenda and we've only checked off the first items.

Wrapped in one of Dorian’s impossibly soft bathrobes, I find myself drawn back to the bedroom, back to the nest. It calls to me, a primal hum deep in my bones. It's my fortress of fluff, my den of desire, and stepping back into its center feels like coming home.

I begin to rearrange it—fluffing pillows, smoothing layers, tugging one blanket into place, shifting another. Then I head to the closet and grab more supplies. I weave in more cashmere and alpaca wool, layering warmth and softness into every fold.

When I finally sink into the center and breathe deep, their scent is still there, flooding my senses.

My alphas.

The phrase, once so terrifying, now settles into my chest like it’s always belonged there. It feels warm, comforting, and surprisingly… right. Maybe love isn't a cage after all. Maybe, it’s a custom-built nest filled with handsome alphas who bring you berries and respect your boundaries.

I slowly move out of the nest, my decision made. The fluff-fort is definitely prepped for a full-on knot-pocalypse.

Iam ready.

My hand reaches for the small bell on the nightstand. I lift it and ring it once. A single, clear chime that cuts through the silence.

The sound barely has time to fade before they’rethere, a solid wall of alpha energy just beyond the mahogany door, their presence so potent I swear I can feel the air pressure change.

I take a deep breath, lift my chin, and speak. My voice is strong, certain.

"Alphas."

I let the word hang in the air, tasting its power, its newness, itsrightness.

"I need you now. All of you."

I hear three distinct, sharp intakes of breath. Then, the door handle turns and it eases open. The air pressure shifts even further, becoming saturated with pure, unadulterateddesire.

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