Page 47 of Knotted By my Pack

I curl into the pillows and whisper, “No more crushes on Alphas.”

It sounds like a lie, even to me.

The tea is cold by the time I realize I’ve dozed off. My body is heavy against the mattress, limbs tangled in sheets that weren’t this twisted when I slid under them.

There’s a sheen of sweat at the base of my neck and across my chest, sticking the thin fabric of my camisole to my skin. The room is darker than before.

Dusky blue shadows spill across the walls, and the air feels heavier somehow.

My thighs are damp. Ache thrumming between them like I’ve been grinding against the mattress, and when I shift, the proof of what just played out behind my closed eyes reveals itself.

The dream comes back in flashes, not slow or soft, but sharp and vivid.

Noah, Elias, Julian.

Not one. All three.

It started with Elias. His hand pressing to my lower back, pulling me into his chest. His mouth against my neck, rough and greedy.

His voice low and gravel-edged as he whispered how wet I already was. How he hadn’t even touched me yet, and I was soaking through my panties like I’d been begging for it all day.

I hadn’t spoken. I didn’t have to. Not in the dream.

I just opened for him. Let him lay me back and slide his hand down my body, those thick fingers slipping under the lace and inside me like he already knew exactly how to wreck me.

Like earlier hadn’t been nearly enough for either of us.

Then Julian was there, dark eyes burning as he knelt beside the bed, watching. His hands unbuckling his belt slowly, stroking himself with a low curse as he watched Elias work me open.

I reached for him, but he shook his head, smirking in that cocky, too-handsome way that made me dizzy. “No. You’re not done yet. Let me see you fall apart on his fingers first.”

Noah was behind me. I don’t know when he appeared.

His chest pressed to my back, warm and solid, one hand buried in my hair, tilting my head back so he could kiss me.

Deep and possessive. I moaned into his mouth as Elias curled his fingers just right, and Julian’s grip tightened around his cock as he watched my thighs start to shake.

It was too much. Their heat. Their scent. The way they looked at me like they wanted to devour me.

I wasn’t even sure who was touching what by the end. Elias still between my legs.

Julian behind me, dragging his knuckles along my hip, letting the head of his cock nudge my skin. Noah’s breath hot against my shoulder as he whispered that I was theirs.

That I always had been.

The dream hangs over me like smoke. I sit up, dragging the sheets with me, the pulse between my legs thudding too hard, too loud.

I press my palm against my stomach like that’ll settle the ache, but it doesn’t. I could touch myself.

I want to.

Desperately.

But I know it won’t be enough. I’d still be empty.

I throw the covers off and stand. My camisole is soaked through, clinging to my skin, and I peel it off with a hiss of frustration. My panties are ruined.

I toss them into the hamper and head straight for the bathroom.