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She probably is. She was practically a virgin when Tripp and she got together. As far as I know, Tripp said she was as tight as fuck and nearly choked his cock out.

“Well, you better get settled …” I trail off, not wanting to leave her. Instead, I want her to want to invite us in. I know that’s a long shot in the dark, but it’s a need all the same.

She nods imperceptibly. I sigh as she closes the door in our faces.

My eyes close of their own accord. I want her to invite us in more than anything in my life.

I want to show her that not all of us alphas are assholes, that some of us want what’s best for her.

Only, I know that’s going to take time. Knox really did a number on her over the past few weeks.

He made her second-guess every intention we have toward her.

Tripp lingers for a heartbeat, his hand still hovering at his side, then pushes himself off the doorframe with a resigned exhale. He glances at me, searching my face for any lingering hope, before turning his gaze back to the closed door.

“Well, we better leave her alone for the night,” he murmurs, voice low and edged with something gentle, as though he understands what we’re both leaving unsaid.

“Yeah,” I retort, even if I don’t really mean it. All I want to do is storm in there, jerk her up, and put my face between her thick thighs.

Just as I start to turn away, I feel Tripp’s palm graze mine—soft and tentative at first, then firmer, deliberate.

He threads his fingers with mine, the gesture warm and grounding, sending a quiet thrill along my skin.

Without a word, he tugs gently, guiding me down the hall.

Each step echoes a silent promise, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of my hand.

The world narrows to the steady cadence of our footsteps and the hush of anticipation as he leads me toward the sanctuary of his room.

We reach his door, the air between us thick with everything unspoken.

Tripp pauses, his hand still clasped in mine, fingers slightly trembling—a hesitation, or maybe anticipation.

He turns the knob, the click loud in the quiet corridor, and pushes the door open.

The room is dim, golden lamplight spilling across the floor, shadows gathering in the corners like secrets.

Tripp steps aside, never letting go, and guides me in first. The familiar scent of cedar and something uniquely his settles around me as I cross the threshold.

I feel his presence at my back—steady, reassuring.

He follows, then closes the door with a soft, final sound, shutting out the world behind us.

Alone now, the hush presses close, electric and tender, as he lets his hand drop only to curl his arm around my waist, anchoring me to this moment with him.

“No. Leave it open,” I say, my voice small and uncertain.

I can feel his smile against the side of my neck when he presses a kiss there. Instead of saying anything, he opens the door once more, leaving it marginally open, just like Remi’s door was.

He pulls me back against his body, and I shiver at the feel of his hard cock pressing against the base of my spine.

I know he’s not hard because of me, but because of Remi, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

I’m in serious need right now, and I need to do something to slacken this burning inside of me.

Tripp gets me. He understands that we’re not a couple, but we both have needs and don't want to turn to someone outside of our connection to fulfill those needs.

Even before Remi showed up, we weren’t with another person, especially a female.

We have both been dancing around each other for years, and it’s because of his ruts that we even got together in the first place.

When he had his first rut, he spent that time with me.

Knox had his work to do, and I took a vacation so that Tripp could have what he needed.

The first time Tripp took my ass, I thought I was going to have a sensation overload, especially when he knotted me. It hurt. Not much, but a bit. However, I would take that hurt to feel the connection he and I have a million times over.

Tripp’s arm, still wrapped around my midsection, guides me with a gentle insistence across the soft spill of lamplight.

The floor creaks beneath our steps as he draws me deeper into the sanctuary of his space, every movement deliberate—measured not in distance, but in the slow, mounting heat that coils between us.

The bed waits in the far corner, its rumpled sheets shadowed in gold, promising comfort and confession.

He moves behind me again, urging me forward with a care that feels both possessive and achingly tender.

My knees brush the edge of the mattress; Tripp pauses, the warmth of his breath ghosting across my neck.

For a heartbeat, we hang in the hush, the world distilled to the nearness of our bodies and the anticipation strung taut as a live wire.

Then, with the gentlest pressure, he eases me forward, his touch never leaving me, his presence eclipsing everything else.

In the hush, the bed becomes an island—soft, inviting, and ours alone.

“Arms out in front of you. Present,” he says, his voice rough and feral with longing.

A tremor races through me as I obey, the air seeming to vibrate with every small motion.

I stretch my arms out, wrists crossed and fingers splayed, reaching toward the headboard as if in a silent offering.

The cool sheet prickles against my forearms and my cheek, grounding me even as my heart hammers wildly and unsteadily.

Each breath is shallow, anticipation winding through my body until I can feel it in the tremble of my limbs.

The hush presses close—thick, golden, and heavy with meaning—as I surrender to the moment, cheek pressed to the mattress, my body humming with wanting.

Tripp leans over my, pressing his hard cock against my clothed ass, and his chest against my back. He presses me into the mattress harder.

“Are you my good boy?” he asks, pulling a keening sound from my throat.

I love it when Tripp gets like this. When his need becomes so much, his dominance overshadows mine.

“Yes,” I whisper, licking my lips.

“Do you want to please me?”

I nod.

“Hmm,” he says, rocking against my backside. “Such a good boy.”

I feel his hands wrap under my body, unbuttoning my jeans.

He slides them down, along with my underwear, until they rest just below my knees.

I’m aching, bared to him. I feel his rough, calloused hands run over my outer thighs up to my ass.

He grabs the globes of my ass tightly, causing a gasp to fly from my parted lips.

“This is mine, isn’t it?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Just as yours is mine,” I reply in return, ending on a moan when I feel his finger ghost through the crack of my ass.

Tripp rocks against me, hardening his cock more.

I grunt from the pressure it puts on my aching dick.

The sensation pulls pleasure from the back of my throat.

It feels so good to be so unbothered by something as simple as pleasure.

It feels good to simply chase your release, no matter who is chasing it with you.

A shiver crawls up my spine as Tripp leans forward, the heat of his breath ghosting over my skin.

Then, with a slow deliberation, he presses his lips to the back of my neck—a gentle, possessive kiss that makes my entire body tense with anticipation.

The softness is a stark contrast to the roughness of his hands, leaving me trembling, caught between surrender and desire.

His clothed erection presses between the crack of my ass as he rocks forward and backward. His thrusts press me deeper into the mattress until I’m almost panting from the continued sensations working my hard on.

A sudden pause, then the soft metallic click of a button slipping free.

The unmistakable whisper of a zipper being drawn down splits the hush of the room—a low, shivering sound that sets every nerve alight.

I’m keenly aware of each deliberate movement, the promise in that measured noise, the anticipation coiling tighter in my gut with every second that passes.

Then, I feel skin to skin, as he presses his hard, silky cock against my ass. He rubs himself against me, groaning at the feel of our skin touching. I’m practically vibrating underneath him, ready for his touch, his taste, his everything.

“Fucking take me,” I breathe out, moaning when he snaps his hips forward, pressing my cock into the mattress.

“Take your cock into your hand.”

I feel the lack of him at my back and go to protest, only for him to walk over to his nightstand drawer and grab the lubrication and a condom.

His jeans settle around his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped, as his cock juts out in front of him.

A whimper claws its way up my throat when I spy it bob with each step he takes.

I watch him, never once lifting my cheek from the mattress, as he rounds the bed and comes to a stop behind me.

He roughly pulls my pants the rest of the way down, tapping my leg.

I take off my shoes and socks, and quickly step out of my pants, all without my chest leaving the mattress.

I fist my erection and settle it against the mattress.

I start rocking forward, gripping tightly.

The pleasure blooms inside of me, causing me to softly moan with each push and pull.

A slap to my ass causes me to groan and stop my efforts of getting off. Then, I hear the snick of the lubrication bottle opening right before I feel the cool liquid drip into the crack of my ass. My mouth falls agape when I feel his fingers spreading it and then pressing against my back hole.