Chapter 17
I should leave. Not the house entirely, but the room.
Now that Camille has Jackson and Ambrose to take care of her, my being here seems like taking advantage of her vulnerable state.
Taking advantage of the grace everyone is giving me tonight.
I already got far more than I ever dreamed. That’s enough.
So why aren’t I moving? There’s a perfect built-in excuse to go check on Dolly.
Jackson already has Camille naked and rolled over onto her back, her legs splayed as he feasts between her thighs, and Ambrose is mid-undressing.
I doubt they’ll even notice if I slip out.
But every pulse of needy pleasure through my bond with Camille, and the echoing lust coursing through my packmates, has me rooted to the spot like a voyeur.
“Mmm, that’s it, gorgeous,” Jackson murmurs, lifting from between Camille’s thighs to smile at her and slip three fingers into her slick pussy.
The ecstatic look on her face and the burst of pleasure I get from her bond take me from feebly pretending I’m not paying attention to so hard I could hammer nails.
“Give me another while Daddy is getting ready for you.”
Fucking hell, does he always refer to Ambrose as “Daddy” when the three of them are together? There’s a pulse of arousal from Ambrose’s end of the bond as Jackson mentions him. Is it because he’s getting into his role as Camille’s daddy or because he likes when Jackson calls him that?
I notice a hint of a flush on Jackson’s cheeks as he grins at Ambrose over his shoulder before diving back down to suck Camille’s clit. Does Jackson like calling him that?
I never allowed myself to think about the details of Camille’s heat, worried that jealousy would consume me. Not that it did any good. Now that I’m here in the room with them, it’s not jealousy I’m feeling. It’s breathless anticipation of what’s to come.
There’s no way I'm being noble and leaving on my own. I won’t go unless Camille asks me to.
The second I have that selfish thought, a wave of guilt crashes over me.
Ambrose’s gaze snaps over in my direction, no doubt sensing my intense worry.
He’s slipped his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and, god, I missed seeing him.
He’s so handsome, it makes my chest ache, but I know his stiff cock and naked body aren’t for me.
At least not right now. I may’ve bossed him around a little on Camille’s behalf, but I need to earn back his trust to be with him like we were before.
I hate that I’m distracting him. Making him frown. Keeping him from going to the omega currently writhing on his bed, desperate for his knot. All the insecurities I’ve worked hard to fight rear their ugly head, telling me everything would be so much better for them if I weren’t involved.
I grimace at the cruel sting of my inner voice, trying to turn it into a smile to reassure my mate.
That voice is wrong. I have to believe that, or nothing will ever change. I have to trust my pack, who told me they want me back here with them, over the self-destructive lies I tell myself.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” I force the words out. I need confirmation that I’m wanted, even though it makes my insides squirm to open myself up to rejection that wouldn’t be unwarranted.
Ambrose’s frown softens, and he nods as my words contextualize the emotions on my end of the bond. “I want you to stay, but it’s up to Camille.”
Knowing that my mate is willing to have me stay is enough to soothe the ache in my chest. I’ll understand if Camille doesn’t—
“Stay,” the omega in question says on a shaky exhale. Her head turns to look at me, her watery eyes meeting mine in a desperate plea that pierces right into my heart. “Please, please don’t leave.”
A ragged whine falls from her lips, and Jackson lifts from between her thighs to pull her against his chest, kissing her neck and cheeks and holding her close to reassure her. “He’s not leaving, Cami.” He shoots a stern, challenging look my way. “Right?”
My heart races and my muscles tense, my alpha bristling at his tone but knowing that what I do next could make or break everything. All eyes are on me, hurt and hope swirling in their bonds.
You’ll only let them down again.
You’re not enough.
They’d be happier without you.
The familiar chorus rings in my head.
I take a step. Then another. One more and I’m beside the bed, reaching out with a shaking hand to swipe away a tear rolling down Camille’s freckled cheek as she watches me with wide, glassy eyes.
“I’m not leaving unless you ask me to,” I say, voice strained from emotion.
A spike of guilt hits me from her end of the bond, almost as potent as my own.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have…”
I stroke her cheek again, hating to see her cry. Hating that I put her in the position where she’d want to push me away so vehemently. Hating that this night can’t just be one of passion and pleasure for our pack because of my actions.
But beneath that anger at myself, hope flickers to life.
This is going to work. I don’t care how long it takes, but it’s going to fucking work.
“No more apologies,” Ambrose says as he climbs onto the bed, gesturing for Jackson to release his protective hold on Camille. “Just let us take care of you, sweetheart.”
She nods, gaze moving from her desperate search of my face to Ambrose as he lays her back on the bed and moves atop her. “Such a good girl,” he rasps as he teases her clit with the thick head of his cock. He lines up with her entrance and sinks inside in one long press of his hips.
I watch, rapt, eyes flicking between where they’re joined and the expressions on their faces.
It’s almost too much to handle, my heart beating so hard it threatens to burst out of my chest. I never considered myself voyeuristic, but that was before I saw my mate and my potential omega together like this.
It was hot when they were together in the car, but I could only catch glimpses without risking crashing.
This is them both bare, both surrendering to the pleasure their bodies create together, their scents a symphony that makes me want to kiss and stroke them both in reverence and thanks for allowing me to be even a small part of their joining.
Watching Ambrose thrust inside her as Camille clings to his arms, their eyes locked together in an exchange of deep affection, I realize the real reason I was jealous before.
It wasn’t because I wanted to be with them individually. It was because I hated that I wasn’t allowed to witness how beautiful they are together. The realization heals something deep inside me I didn’t even know was hurting.
I don’t have to fear their bond. This connection doesn’t hurt the one I share with my mate, nor the one I hope to share with Camille. It can only make all our bonds stronger.
Jackson nudges me, startling me out of my reverent realizations. I turn to glare at him for interrupting my focus on the pair on the bed, and do a double take.
Oh fuck.
He’s naked.
He’s naked, and he’s hard.
Stop staring at his dick!
My eyes stay glued to his cock despite my brain begging me to look away. A sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, and a growl threatens to erupt from my throat.
How the hell did I forget about this aspect of things?
I’ve seen Jackson naked before in locker rooms and a few times when he wandered around in the buff when he got drunk in college, but it wasn’t like this.
He’s so goddamn handsome, his carved, muscular body a testament to his constant hard work in the gym.
If that weren’t torture enough, he also has one of the prettiest cocks I’ve ever seen in my life.
Girthy, with the slightest upward curve and a glistening tip.
Not as long as Ambrose’s, but that’s because my mate is hung like a damn horse.
How long have I been staring at his cock? Shit.
Jackson’s strained laugh finally allows me to rip my eyes from where they were glued to his dick. I blink a few times, like I can scrub the memory of it from my mind and not have it feature in my dreams for the foreseeable future.
His meaty palm slaps against my back. “I know it’s weird, dude, but we’ll get used to it. When I first saw Ambrose hard, I did a double-take. That thing is a monster.” He grimaces slightly. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re not a bottom, because ouch.”
I use the opening he handed to me to distract from my staring with a joke. “You put a lot of thought into what it would be like to get fucked by my mate?”
Jackson’s cheeks burnish, his eyes going wide. “What? N-no. Just concerned for my best friend, shit.”
“Don’t be.” I know I shouldn’t tell him this, but the way he reacted makes me want to fluster him more so he won’t overthink anything he’s sensing from me through the bond. “It feels amazing with the right prep.”
His mouth hangs open for a moment at my declaration. “Well, uh, that’s good.” He looks away, clearing his throat.
My traitorous gaze drops to his cock again while he’s not watching me, and the little twitch it gives when Camille moans as she comes makes my mouth water.
I’d give anything for a taste of him, but that’s never going to happen.
The last thing I want to do is make him uncomfortable around me, especially when we have a shot to make things right with our pack.
Ambrose’s groan as he comes snaps my focus back to the bed, the twist of his brow as he knots his scent mate enough to distract me from my worries about Jackson.
My pants are uncomfortably tight, my cock threatening to break my zipper from how hard and eager it is.
“You should get undressed so you’re ready for your turn,” Jackson says, his embarrassment from a moment ago replaced with a cheeky smirk. “Or are you shy? Because you’ve seen mine now, it’s only fair I see yours.”
“I’m not shy,” I say, glaring at him but not making a move to take any of my clothes off. My dick would like nothing more than for Jackson to stare at it, but my mind knows it’ll be a struggle to stay composed and lock down my end of the bond enough that he won’t feel that he’s turning me on.
The bastard pokes me in the stomach. “Come on, dude. Whip it out. I’m sure it’s fine.”
That goading barb is enough to make my alpha rise to the challenge from this mouthy beta. “Oh, fuck off,” I mutter as I strip out of my button-down and toss it onto the floor.
Jackson waggles his eyebrows at me as my hand goes to my zipper.
“You’re such an asshole.”
He smirks. “I know. But you still love me.”
My stomach clenches at his words, fingers freezing against the zipper for a split-second before I force myself to pull it down.
Praying that the challenging glare I plaster on my face is enough to hide how painfully true his words are, I keep my eyes on Jackson’s as I shuck my pants and boxers and kick them to the side.
“Well. Go on,” I say drolly when Jackson’s eyes stay firmly on my face.
I suck in a breath and pray that my cock doesn’t look too eager when his gaze drops.
A moment passes. Then another. A flush creeps up Jackson’s neck when he finally looks back at me.
He clears his throat. “You’ve got a nice dick, bro.” A goofy smile crosses his face. “I kind of expected it to be pierced, though, with your whole edgy alpha vibe.”
I know my cheeks are turning red at his compliment, reading into it way too much. I snort and cross my arms over my chest. “You think a lot about my cock, dude?”
There. I’m teasing him back and not being a lovesick idiot struggling not to show his best friend how into him he is.
“If you two are done with your dick-measuring contest, our omega needs you.” Ambrose’s stern words are tinged with amusement.
“Fuck, yeah, of course,” Jackson says, moving to the bed with such eager speed Camille giggles. Ambrose is still knotted inside her, but that doesn’t stop the beta from reaching down between where they’re joined to play with her clit.
The three of them together are hot enough that I’m worried the second anyone even accidentally brushes against my dick, I’m going to explode. My alpha demands I join them, the mix of their pheromones on the edge of pushing me into a rut.
“Well, are you coming?” Jackson asks between nips and sucks to Camille’s breasts.
God, I hope not. Not yet.
I nod and move over to join the three people I’m utterly obsessed with on the bed.