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Summary
Pheromones, sweet and earthy, filtered into the air around them as they woke. It flooded Rumi’s senses, overtaking every thought and nerve in her body, instincts flaring in response to her mates. That need— that primal need— to take, claim, mate. She shot up immediately like lightning injected into her veins, back ramrod straight as she stared down at the two omegas who were curled up on either side of her, now looking up at Rumi with twin expressions of confusion and annoyance at suddenly being woken up.
“You’re both going into heat,” Rumi said plainly. Straight to the point.
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. A fact. Final.
OR
Alpha Rumi taking care of her two omega mates going into pre-heat at the same time who are refusing to acknowledge they're going into heat, and keeps digging herself into a deeper and deeper hole.
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Summary
Mira remembered hearing something once about a so-called honeymoon phase.
Did she know anything real about it? Fuck, no. Because while Zoey was rambling on about it — literally grinding down on Mira’s thigh on the couch one night after Rumi had already gone to bed — Mira had been far more invested in trying to get her mouth on Zoey’s tits through her hoodie.
OR
After the bathhouse, everything changed. Maybe just not in the way they’d hoped.
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Summary
Rumi broke.
The orgasm tore through her like fire in her veins, body locking up, mouth wide open on a scream she couldn’t even hear over the pounding in her skull. Her thighs spasmed. Her whole body shuddered like it didn’t know how to stop. She came so hard she thought she was gonna pass out, and still—still—Mira didn’t stop moving. Slower now. Just enough to keep the edge from fading. Just enough to drag her through it.
Zoey kissed her over and over, lips all sloppy and sweet, whispering nonsense. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay. Just one more. I know you can do one more. We’ll hold you. We’ll catch you. You’re not going anywhere.”
Or
Rumi getting overstimulated a shit ton cause I love overstimulated smut