Page 121 of Scrum Heat

“Sweetheart,” I murmur. “I need to pull out now.”

She moans softly around Rory’s cock as she nods.

“That’s my girl,” I say, brushing a kiss to her temple.

I ease back, my knot still sensitive, every slow withdrawal dragging slick heat between her thighs. She gasps around Rory as I finally slip free, and I groan low at the loss and thesightof her—flushed, wet, dripping in slick, mouth full of alpha, and completelyours.

I move back slightly, but I don’t go far. My hand stays firmly on her hip—I’m not going to miss a second of this. Rory looks utterly wrecked, and he hasn’t eventouchedher properly yet.

She pulls back again, lips shiny, chest heaving, her breath ragged and uneven.

“Rory,” she pants, voice wrecked. “I need it. I needyou.”

He shakes his head once, like he’s trying to reboot his entire central nervous system. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“She just took me,” I offer, very helpfully, still panting and cock-drunk on the sight of her. “Not for the first time, by the way—but just as incredible”

“Shut up,” Rory mutters, voice tight, strained, and so obviously seconds from snapping.

But his eyes stay locked on Frankie, and when she reaches out for him again, fingertips brushing his chest?

Yeah. He’s done for.

He moves, but not just to settle between her thighs.

No—Rory’s decided he’s claiming herhisway.

He rolls her gently, guides her onto her stomach with hands that are reverent and just a little shaky. Her cheek hits the pillow and her thighs spread automatically. I have to physically brace myself, because the view isdevastating—her back arched, slick between her legs,minestill dripping out of her.

Rory crawls over her like he’s entering some holy space, and I catch his eye, grinning.

“You sure you’re still breathing, Captain?”

“Barely,” he says, and it’s so damn earnest I nearly moan.

But I have a better idea.

I lean over her back, palm sliding up her spine, breath hot against her ear. “Before he knots you,” I murmur, “you’re gonna come here and clean me up with that pretty mouth.”

Shewhimpers.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” I purr, rolling onto my back, resting my back against the mattress and spreading my thighs wide. My knot’s still aching but it’s softening by the minute, my cock half-hard, slick and shining. “You made this mess. Be a good girl and taste yourself.”

She shifts, pushing up onto her elbows with a soft whimper that sends a fresh throb straight through my cock. Her face is flushed, cheeks flushed rose-pink down to her chest, and her lips are swollen and shiny with spit. She crawls toward me slowly—dragging herself forward like she’s still remembering how her limbs work; chest low to the bed, back perfectly arched.

A fuckingvision.

Rory’s hands are still on her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above her thighs. He holds her there, watching every second.

And then she reaches me.

Her breath ghosts over the head of my cock, still slick from where I knotted and came inside her just minutes ago. Her tongue flicks out, a slow swipe from base to tip, licking up our combined slick and groaning deeply like it’s her favorite taste in the world.

Then she takes me into her mouth.

Her lips stretch around the crown, dragging down the sensitive underside with wet heat and maddening precision. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, teasing the slit before it flattens beneath me as she sinks lower.

I curse loudly, and my hand slides into her hair without thinking, fingers tangling in the damp strands at the nape of her neck.

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