Reagan’s POV
We were f****d.
My knot was still buried deep inside Irene, thick and swollen, refusing to go down. Her back was pressed against my chest, her breathing fast and shaky under my hand. I kept one palm tight over her mouth and the other arm locked around her waist, holding her still against the fallen log.
The warriors’ voices got closer.
“I swear I smelled heat,” one of them said. “Strong heat. Female. It’s coming from this direction.”
Another answered, “Could be a rogue. Stay sharp.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. Irene’s walls fluttered around my knot, still sensitive from her orgasm. I felt another small pulse of c*m leak into her. She whimpered softly against my palm. I tightened my grip, lips pressed to her ear.
“Don’t make a sound,” I whispered.
The flashlights
