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He sank into me slowly, reverently, his big hands bracketing my hips as if I were something holy. His cock stretched me open all over again, delicious and devastating. I moaned, back arching, my fingers scrabbling for something to hold.

William took one hand. Annerly the other. Their warmth grounded me as Drew began to move.

It was different this time. Less desperation. More worship.

Drew kissed nose, cheek, eyes. He whispered things I couldn’t make out, but his voice alone made me clench around him.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he confessed, his voice ragged. “Dreamed about you. The way you’d feel. The way you’dlookwhen I made you come.”

His thumb found my clit and I cried out, heat roaring through me like wildfire. He didn’t stop. Just kept murmuring sweet, filthy praise until I shattered around him.

My orgasm hit like a wave breaking on the shore—relentless, cleansing, inevitable.

Drew groaned, burying himself deep with one final thrust his knot slipped in, and I felt the hot rush of his release coating my insides.

He held me like I might float away.

And when Anton climbed into the nest next to me, spooning my trembling body into his massive chest, I whimpered again—needy, wrung out, but not done.

Never done.

Not with them.

When Drew's knot finally slipped free and he left me aching and empty, Anton was quick to replace him.

Quick to fill me, fuck me and make me feel how much they loved me.

Chapter 26

William

Christa was finally asleep.

Really asleep this time—not dozing between waves or slipping under for a few minutes before waking up needy and sweet and slick. Her body was limp, completely boneless where she lay between us, one arm flung across Anton’s chest, the other tangled with Annerly’s. Her face was soft. Peaceful.

She looked young like this.

In the last four days, I’d seen her wild. I’d seen her desperate. I’d seen her aching and begging and shaking apart in our arms. But this version, this sleepy, safe, and cuddly version, did something to me I couldn’t quite explain.

Made me feel like maybe we’d done something right after all.

“She’s beautiful,” Annerly whispered beside me, voice reverent.

Anton nodded, his hand stroking slowly up and down her bare back. “Strong, too.”

“I don’t know how she survived that long on her own,” I murmured, reaching over to brush a damp curl from her cheek. She didn’t stir. “But I’m glad she did. I’m glad she found her way to us.”

Drew shifted at the edge of the nest, legs crossed, arms loose around his knees. “Do we really get to keep her now?”

It wasn’t said with doubt—just awe. Like the rest of us, he still couldn’t quite believe she was real. That she wanted us back.

“We’re not letting her go,” I said firmly. “Not again.”

Annerly leaned into my side. “No. I need her like I need my next breath. The same way I do you.”

My heart ached with how much I loved them. All of them. Even Anton, in his gruff, reserved way, had softened. Had kissed her forehead, whispered to her in the dark when he thought we weren’t listening.

We were hers as much as she was ours.