AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe that’s the whole fucking point.
We’ve been fragmented for so long. How will it ever get any better if we aren’t willing to take this leap?
Smith’s voice is even and completely devoid of judgment. “What do you think, Damon?”
I turn from him to Cassian. Just a few weeks ago, wasn’t I thinking that no one ever cared about my input? They’re both looking at me, now. Listening to me.
So I say what needs to be said.
“I think we should bond.”
chapter
fifty-eight
“Now?!”
Oh my God. I am so not prepared for this! I haven’t even asked Meg all of the questions I have. I haven’t done a refresher on the procedure or looked up the benefits of doing it during my heat versus?—
“Not now.”
It’s Cassian.
When we all whip around to look at him, we find him staring his stepbrother down. “She isn’t ready,” he adds, completely correct. The smallest half-smile pulls at his mouth. “But maybe we should practice.”
Smith slides his gaze to me, running it over my face. “Hmm. Good point. We haven’t even given her a preview.”
The predatory intent slithering through his dark gaze makes me perfume. “Sorry,” I whisper to D, shifting in his lap. “Guys, Damon is?—”
“—in heaven,” he groans, scraping his teeth over my bare shoulder. “Pretty girl, you know you never have to do anything you don’t want to. But, right now, I can’t imagine anything that would feel better than being inside you.”
He hides his face against my neck, whispering his last confession, “I want to knot you.”
I don’t think the others know that he hasn’t, yet. It’s a special thing we’ve kept just between us, after he explained that he wanted the first time to be perfect. That fact that he wants to do this now, with the guys in on it, after telling us all these hard, vulnerable things, means the world to me.
Damon carries me over to the kitchen island and sets me on a barstool, while Smith and Cassian begin clearing the table, working in unison. I watch them move at a breakneck pace, stifling a laugh.
It’s amazing how quickly three men can clean an entire kitchen when they’re properly motivated.
Cassian comes for me first, flopping a soggy dishrag over the edge of the farm-style sink and barreling right over. He tosses me over his shoulder, secures an arm around the backs of my thighs, and motions for the others to follow him.
“Did you see her smirking at us while we cleaned up?” he grunts to Smith, jostling me lightly. “Brat.”
Their pack alpha is alarmingly even. “Hmm. Brats get punished.”
Damon snorts, throwing his own attitude into the mix. “Since when?”
From my place over Cass’s shoulder, I barely catch Smith reaching for the hockey gear the guys left by the front door when they came home. He bends at the waist, snatching up one of Damon’s sticks.
Oh. Dear. Lord.
I already know he likes putting me over his knee until he has me screaming, “Yes, Sir.” When I raise my head to catch his eye, I hope my apprehension isn’t too obvious. “Are you going to spank me with that?”
He smooths his palm over my cheek. “Never, petal. That would hurt you. What I have in mind will still be a challenge, though. For you—and the other brat.”
He does hit Damon, though, landing a hard swat to the shoulder. D chuckles, raising his brow at me. “Hear that, sweetness? They want to challenge us. Guess it’s their funeral.”
Cassian grumbles, “I bet I can last longer than you.”
