Page 78 of Scrum Heat

I press in deep right as her entire body spasms. Her cunt grips me like a vice—

And that’s it.

I thrust once, twice more, and then my knot locks.

She gasps as it swells inside her, stretching her wide, locking me deep. I lean forward until my chest is flush against her back and groan into her neck, my hips jerking as I spill myself inside her.

It’sendless; thick, hot pulses of my pleasure. My knot locks us together, and I hold her tight while we both ride it out; panting, shaking, skin slick with sweat and scent.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then, in half-laugh, half-breath: “You’re gonna have to carry me home.”

“What, like this?” I laugh into her shoulder. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll drag you by the hips if I have to.”

She groans and turns her head just enough to meet my eyes. “You alreadydid.”

Her body’s still twitching with the aftershocks, and her scent wraps around me like a second skin—sweet and soft and overwhelming.

I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“You’re impossible,” she murmurs.

“And you’re adorable when you’re ruined.”

“Arrogant.”

“Talented.”

She laughs again. It’s quiet, breathless, maybe a little stunned. I kiss her temple, then let the silence settle for a second before shifting just enough to look down at her.

“Hey,” I say, voice lower now. “You okay?”

Her eyes flick up. “Yeah. I mean… yeah.”

“You sure?”

She hesitates, and I see it: that flicker of awkwardness in her expression, the hesitation behind her smile.

“Because if you regret it,” I say carefully, “that’s okay. We stop. We reset. No pressure.”

“I don’t,” she blurts. “I don’t regret it.” Then, softer, a little wry: “I just… don’t know what happens now.”

“Well… we talk,” I say. “We figure it out.Together.”

“But—this whole…packthing. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work. I’ve met people in packs before but I never asked—like, how theygotthere. Did someone just… decide? Was it an application process? Was there a spreadsheet?”

I grin. “I’m more of a flow chart guy.”

She swats my arm. “Theo.”

“I’m serious.” I shift a little, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing under her eye. “There can’t just be one way to do it. Some people bond first. Some scent-match and take it slow. Some use agencies and apps. Some have weird rituals and group calendars—I don’t know. What matters isthis.”

I press my forehead to hers. “You. Me.Us. We figure it out.”

Her lashes flutter. “You’d want that?”

“Sweetheart,” I murmur, voice rough, “I’d bond you tomorrow if you let me.”

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