Chapter 4

Maya’s POV

6:17 p.m. The encrypted message lit up my phone.

Preliminary EEG shows brief signs of activity. Possibility of waking. Further tests tomorrow.

I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to the main house.

When I pushed open the door to the rooftop garden, Lucas was just climbing out of his private pool. Black swim trunks clung wet to every line of him, the thick shape of his cock clearly outlined. Water slid down the ridges of his abs. His Alpha scent still hung heavy in the air, not yet fully reined in.

He offered no explanation. Just carefully lifted Ethan into the wheelchair and jerked his chin.

“Take him over there for the last of the sun. I’m getting back in.”

I did as I was told.

The setting sun made Ethan’s pale face look almost translucent. I sat beside him and talked for a long time, my voice shaking the entire way.

“Maya. Bring me a towel.”

His voice came from the pool.

I stood and walked over. My foot slipped. Cold water closed over my head for one second before strong arms hauled me up. Lucas carried me out with one arm under my knees and set me on the wide tiles at the edge.

My white shirt was completely soaked, plastered to my skin. Even the color of my nipples showed through.

He stared at me for a few seconds, voice low and rough.

“Take it off.”

My hands moved on their own.

The wet shirt, the bra, the skirt—one by one they hit the tiles. Evening air touched my bare skin, but I was burning.

He sat on the edge of the pool and pulled me between his open thighs. One hand cupped the back of my head and guided me down.

I dropped to my knees on the wet tiles, opened my mouth, and took his already hard, hot cock inside. Steam mixed with thick Alpha scent stung my eyes. The thick shaft stretched my lips tight; the head punched against the back of my throat again and again until tears spilled. He growled and thrust up, gold eyes glowing in the dusk, fingers buried in my hair, controlling every inch and every pace.

“That’s it… good girl. Look how deep you’re taking me. Throat’s already fluttering.”

Minutes later he pulled me up, laid me back on the lounge chair, and forced me to straddle his face.

His tongue was brutal and precise—sucking, licking, driving deep. He flicked over my clit, then shoved inside my soaked entrance and drank every drop that kept spilling out of me. The first orgasm crashed through me so fast I bit my arm to stay quiet. The second one made me squirt hard; clear fluid splashed across his chin and throat.

He still didn’t stop.

Three thick fingers shoved straight into me, curling and thrusting while his thumb crushed my clit. My walls were scraped raw with pleasure that shot up my spine like electricity. When the third orgasm ripped through me I was already crying, legs shaking violently, hole still clenching around nothing.

Then he stood, turned me around, and pressed me against the glass railing that overlooked the entire city.

Lights were beginning to flicker on far below.

Ethan’s wheelchair sat less than twenty feet behind us.

Lucas’s fully hard cock pressed against me.

The thick head pushed slowly, steadily into my soaked entrance, stretching me open inch by inch until I was stretched white around him.

“Feel that… one inch… two… good girl, you’re sucking me in so tight.”

I could feel how full I already was. My walls clenched and fluttered around him without permission. The fat head was pressed right against the deepest soft spot when he suddenly stopped—one thrust away from burying himself completely.

A soft, real sound came from behind us.

Ethan.

At almost the same moment the glass door leading to the roof was knocked.

Mrs. Vance’s voice carried clearly:

“Lucas? Ethan? Are you out there? I can see the lights are still on. Open the door.”

Lucas didn’t pull out.

One hand clamped hard over my mouth. The other locked around my hip, keeping every thick inch of him lodged right at my most sensitive entrance. His cock pulsed inside me—hot, heavy, twitching—each small throb dragging the head across that swollen spot deep inside and making my entire body go weak. I didn’t dare make a sound.

He leaned in, gold eyes burning in the dusk, and spoke in a voice only I could hear:

“Not a sound, good girl. You’re dripping down my cock with your boyfriend ten feet away and my mother at the door. Tell me—do you want me to stop… or do you want me to push the rest of the way in and knot you right here while she knocks?”

My hips jerked once, trying to take more of him even as tears slipped over his fingers.

Shame crashed over me a second later, hot and sick.

I hated how wet I still was.

I hated that my body was already begging him not to pull out.