Page 109 of In Deep
He moves in closer, his hand palming my arse cheeks. “From the moment you knocked me off my feet, I’ve dreamt of this, Rosie. I’ve dreamt of claiming you, of making you ours.” His fingers dip into my soaking hole, already full with his pack mates’ come. “I’ve never wanted anything more,” he says breathlessly, as he slides his cock into me. He’s gentler than the others, less rushed. He grinds into me and the hands on my body respond, pinches and pulls morphing into strokes and kisses.
The orgasm rolls in lazily this time. I’m already high, and it lifts me higher, right through the roof of this old boat house and up into the star-littered sky.
Where I’ve always wanted to be.
I don’t feel the bite at my neck, his teeth, the pain. This time I just feel that bond. The final one, slotting into place like a perfectly crafted puzzle piece.
I am full. And I am done.
I sink to the floor, my alphas coming with me. We are a sweaty mess of limbs and lips, kissing and touching, wanting to be as close to each other as we can.
The moon rises higher in the sky, and the boathouse darkens.
We sit as one, catching our breaths, an interconnected bundle of flesh and blood.
Pack.
Chapter 36 - Epilogue
Three years later — Seb
The sauce simmers on the stove and I add a pinch of cumin, dipping the wooden spoon into the liquid and scooping some out.
“Rosie!” I call, and I hear her skip down the hallway and into the kitchen. Her scent drifts into the room before she does, and after all this time, it still heats my blood, still sets a pulse thumping in my gland.
“How’s it going?” she asks, sliding her arms around my waist and peering around my shoulder.
Behind her, Duncan and Zane follow in her wake, pulling out a chair each around the table.
I rest my hand over hers, squeezing them. They are still cold from outside. She only returned home with Duncan a half hour ago. Now we’re in the depths of winter, we won’t let her travel home alone. Of course, Zane offered to buy her a car of her own, but my lass is insisting on saving up to buy it for herself. I imagine she has her eye on something bright and impractical.
“Would you try this?” I ask her.
She sidles around me, and holding her hair back from her face, bends over the saucepan as I lift the spoon to her mouth.
“Blow it,” I tell her, and she bristles a little at the order. She knows I like that. Knows I can’t get enough of the little mischievous omega act. Just enough to push my buttons, but not too far.
She lets out a breath of air, and the sauce ripples slightly on the surface of the spoon, then she sips it into her mouth, sighing as she does.
“Delicious,” she says, licking her lips and straightening.
“Does it need more spice? How do your parents like it?”
Rosie’s twin sisters are coming to stay for the weekend and her parents are driving them up tomorrow. They’ve agreed to stay for lunch. It’s another gradual step, steps towards accepting the pack and Rosie’s position. I’m going all out to impress them. We all are. Duncan spent an hour cleaning the kitchen before work this morning, and Zane came home with an armful of fresh flowers. Ollie’s planning to woo them with yet more tales of trips to Buckingham Palace.
Rosie would like nothing more than for her family to support her, to support us. We’re going to make it happen, no matter how long it takes.
“I think it’s perfect,” she says.
“OK, then butter up the dish, lass.”
I’ve already prepared and rolled out the pastry, so I switch off the gas and turn around to watch as she fetches the butter from the fridge and runs the block around the sides of the dish.
“How was your day?” I ask, folding my arms and leaning back to listen as she recounts the data she’s been analysing from a telescope far out in the depths of space.
Duncan asks her a few questions from the table. I don’t follow a lot of her answers, but I love listening to her talk about her work, love the way her eyes light up, how the pace of her words quickens, the way she swings up on her toes in excitement. It makes me want to encase her in my arms and smother her in kisses. Instead, I smile, nodding along.
“Actually,” she says, wrapping the paper back around the butter and spinning to face all of us. “My supervisor pulled me to one side today.”
