Page 98 of Knot my First Rodeo

She jerks, a strangled cry escaping her lips. "Fuck… fuck…"

Clint leans down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucks hard, biting down just enough to make her gasp, and then soothes it with his tongue.

I watch them, my eyes dark with lust as I continue to fuck her. She's surrounded, taken, claimed. There's nothing gentle about it, now. It's filthy and perfect.

She comes with a scream that tears through her throat, her walls clamping down around me, milking me. I follow, my knot swelling, locking us together as I pump her full of my cum.

"Fuck, yes," I growl.

We stay like that, locked together as the aftershocks ripple through us. I slowly lower us and twist onto the blankets, careful not to jostle my knot, and pull her against my chest.

She's limp, exhausted, her eyes already fluttering closed. I press a kiss to her temple, stroking her hair.

"Who's not right now?" she mumbles, her voice barely a whisper.

I chuckle softly, my chest aching. "Mouthy damn omega, you should rest."

She hums, her breathing evening out, her body going slack against mine. I wait until I'm sure she's asleep, then I look at Clint and Tripp.

"We're so fucked," I say quietly.

Clint runs a hand through his hair, his caramel eyes dark. "Yeah, we are."

"What are we going to do?" Tripp asks.

I look down at Autumn, her face peaceful in sleep, her body curled trustingly against mine. I hold her, her scent wrapping around me like a promise. I can't imagine letting her go.

"I don't know," I admit. "But we need to figure it out. Before it's too late."

Right now, with her heart beating against mine, I let myself pretend that this is forever.

Even if I know it's not.

Chapter

Thirty-One

Autumn

The worst of the heat is over, at least, I think it is.

I wake up tangled in blankets and limbs. For a second, I don't move. Clint's arm is draped across my waist, Briggs is stretched out on my other side, and Tripp's snoring softly somewhere near my feet.

A smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it.

God, they're ridiculous.

For a second, I just lie there, listening to them breathe, and then it hits me.

Not all at once, or like some lightning bolt from the sky.

Just certainty.

Clint smells like coffee and vanilla, Briggs smells like banana cream, and Tripp smells key lime pie. They all smell like home…like mine.

My pulse stumbles, because I've spent weeks surrounded by their scents. I've worked beside them, lived with them, hell, slept beside them in the truck on the way to the rodeo.

But this feels different.