Page 152 of Final Drive

Nobody says anything because, for once, nobody needs to.

By the time Beckett’s knot goes down enough for him to ease out, I’m boneless. He rolls onto his side beside me instead of leaving the bed, one hand staying on my leg while Zane moves between my thighs.

The look on Zane’s face is different now. No grin, no running commentary. He kneels between my knees and runs both hands slowly up my legs, watching my face when he reaches my hips. There’s something almost shy underneath all that Zane that I hadn’t noticed before.

He bends and kisses my stomach, then higher, taking his time until he reaches my mouth. His kiss is softer than Beckett’s, softer than I expect from him at all, and when he settles over me, I reach up and push his hair off his forehead.

Zane closes his eyes for a second, and that’s when I realize he needed this too. Not sex, exactly. He needed me to have the day.

I hook a leg around him and pull him closer. He slides inside me with a long exhale, and I’m oversensitive enough that the first stroke makes me shudder. Zane immediately stills, his hand smoothing down my side while he waits for my body to settle around him.

When he moves again, he does it slowly.

That’s the surprise. Zane does everything else like he’s afraid the world might end before he finishes it. He talks fast, eats fast, laughs before anybody else gets the joke. But he fucks me slowly, drawing each stroke out until my body starts following him without thought.

His forehead presses against mine, and for once he doesn’t say anything. I can feel what he isn’t saying anyway. His bond is wide open, all that bright Zane warmth stripped of the humor he usually wraps around it, with so much affection underneath that my throat tightens.

He feels that too. His mouth brushes mine, then his hips roll deeper and the emotion gets lost under sensation.

I’m too sensitive for another long climb. Every stroke drags over nerves that haven’t recovered from Beckett, and Zane seems to realize it because he keeps the pace steady and lets my body do the rest. Cameron’s hand moves over my shoulder while Beckett’s fingers trace lazy circles against my knee.

Nobody is directing anything anymore. Somewhere along the way the plan dissolved, and I don’t need it now.

Zane’s control goes all at once. His slow rhythm stutters, his hand tightens on my hip, and the sound that leaves him is nothing like his usual voice. His knot starts to swell inside me while he buries his face against my neck, and his bond flares so bright that I pull him tighter without thinking.

He knots me with his mouth against my shoulder, hips pressed flush to mine as the pull locks us together. His whole body shudders once, then again, and I feel the pleasure roll through the bond before I feel his knot pulse inside me.

I run my fingers into his hair, but he doesn’t lift his head, so for a while I let him hide there.

When he can finally move, he kisses me once before pulling away and collapsing beside Beckett, who immediately throws an arm over his face because apparently even Beckett Monroe has reached the end of his available personality.

That leaves Cameron.

He’s been quiet long enough that when I look at him, something in my chest turns over. He’s sitting beside me with one knee on the mattress, watching. Not impatient, not assuming anything. Just there.

I reach for him, and Cameron comes without making me ask.

He lies down beside me first instead of climbing over me. His hand slides along my waist and around to the mark at the base of my spine, fingertips resting there before his mouth finds mine. His kiss is nothing like either of theirs because there’s no agenda in it.

That’s Cameron. Even now, after months of watching everything, he doesn’t seem interested in proving he knows me better than I know myself. He just pays attention.

His hand moves between my legs and he feels how sensitive I am immediately. The first pass of his fingers makes me twitch, and he changes the pressure without asking, gentler the next time.

I turn toward him, and he rolls me with him until I’m on my side with my back against his chest. It’s quieter this way. Beckett and Zane are still on the bed behind us, but I can’t see them and don’t need to.

Cameron’s mouth touches the mark at the base of my spine now that he actually has access to it, a slow kiss that sends the bond opening wider beneath my ribs. His hand moves down my stomach and between my thighs while his cock presses warm and hard against the back of my leg. He doesn’t rush either part. His fingers work slowly over me until the lingering ache of the last two knots turns back into want.

I push back against him, and his breath changes against my skin. That’s the only warning I get before he lifts my leg over his and guides himself into me from behind.

The angle is deep enough that my hand fists in the sheet. Cameron stops as soon as he’s inside, one arm wrapped around my ribs and holding me against him while my body adjusts, then starts to move.

There is nothing performative about Cameron fucking me. No commands, no commentary. He doesn’t need me looking at him or telling him he’s doing it right. He finds the rhythm that makes my breathing change and stays there, his hand eventually coming up to close around mine.

The bond settles around me the way it always does. Warm house. Open door. Home.

My eyes burn, and I know before the first tear gets out that Cameron is going to notice. Of course he does, but he doesn’t stop or ask what’s wrong or make the other two look at me. He only tightens his arm around my ribs and presses his mouth to the back of my neck while he keeps moving inside me, slow and deep and steady.

That makes it worse, because everything I’ve spent the day holding separately starts arriving at once.