Prologue #2
With a loud moan, he reaches his climax and paints her back and flank with ropes off his warm cum. She turns to look at him over her shoulder, locking pleading eyes with his as a whimper tumbles out of her throat. She opens her mouth in supplication, wanting his offering.
He snarls a feral sound in response, his cock twitching beneath her hand where she feels he is still fully erect. None of them will go flaccid for days, she's sure, and he's already ready to go again.
He scoops up the cum from her skin and palms it into her mouth. She reaches out to lathe it with her tongue, cleaning every drop off, even flicking between his fingers to ensure none goes to waste. It tastes like life itself, warm and earthy, just like his scent.
His movements are jerky and crude, as if trying to temper himself from grabbing and taking her for himself.
They're restraining themselves for her. So they do not harm her.
She keens with pleasure at the thought, at the care she can feel pulsing between them, the warmth they feel for her, woven between the fervor.
The scent of his cum is now plastered all over her back and her face, and that seems to calm him. She'll be drenched before this rut is over, smelling like them, their seed infiltrating every cell in her body.
He switches spots with Tenor, wordlessly handing her over to him. She is still locked onto Julius' knot, and from the way he is still spurting inside of her every few seconds, she expects she will be for a while.
"Hi," she whispers with a small smile as her back is pressed against his hard chest. She cranes her neck to look back at him, needing to see their faces that she's dreamt of every night they've been apart.
He spares her a small smile, reaching up to pet a large hand down her face, looking at her in wonder before his hand settles on her neck in a claiming grasp. "Beautiful," his voice is little more than a growl with the rut riding him as hard as it is. "Mine. My mate."
She nods in compliance, rubbing back against him as much as she can with Julius' knot still holding her in place. There is a sharp pinch that shoots through her pelvis as it moves inside of her and she stills, allowing them to move her how they need her, his gentle hands bending her forwards.
Tenor prods at her centre with his cock, drenching himself in the semen and slick that's leaked out of her around the sides of Julius' cock, and then drags it up the cleft of her ass.
He growls as he prods at her rear hole and she can feel the desire that sparks in him as he does it, but then he continues dragging himself upwards until he is positioned between her cheeks, the tip of his cock over her tailbone, slippery and lubricated from her fluids.
He begins to thrust against her, using the friction of her body between his to find his release.
Between watching his pack brothers use her and the way their scents that are filling this godawful space until it smells only of them, it doesn't take long before he is cumming too, drenching her in ropes of it up to her neck and coating the fabric of her dress.
They relax infinitesimally, finally having marked her, having felt release with her body. She knows that seeing her submission to them reassures them in their most primal state that their mate would tend to them during their rut and soothe their fervour.
When Julius' knot has subsided enough that it can be pulled from her, she whimpers a little at the feeling of him wresting it out of her entrance. The bulbous swelling has not yet deflated fully, just enough that it could unhook from behind her pubic bone and fit through her opening.
In better circumstances, he would have let the swelling dissipate naturally so it slipped from her easily, but these were not better circumstances, and he forces himself out so another of his pack brothers could use her.
She whimpers at the burning stretch followed by the awful, echoing feeling of being empty.
She is not empty for long. There is a slight falling sensation as they readjust their positioning again, with Julius laying on his back on the filthy floor. Eden is straddling his hips, her clit pressed against his still hard cock as Tenor's cock drags down to her dripping entrance from behind.
She is filled in one thrust that punches the air from her lungs. "Oh god," she whines.
Her mate is too far gone to respond to her discomfort beyond a dominant snarl and the snap of teeth at her neck.
She doesn't resist, knows if she does, they will not be able to stop themselves from forcing her submission.
She urges her body to be soft and pliant for them once again, open to whatever her mates need from her. A doll for their use.
His cock feels big–too big–in this position, pressing against every single sensitive spot inside her. And then she is coming around him, drenching him in more slick. He does not slow, does not seem to even acknowledge her orgasm as he continues pounding into her like a man possessed.
Luke takes advantage of the new position by pulling her head up by her hair and slipping his cock in her mouth.
She relaxes her jaw and looks up at him, making eye contact and conveying her willingness, her acceptance, her love.
Do whatever you need, she tells him silently. Use me however you want, alpha.
He holds her eyes as he begins thrusting down her throat, uncaring when she begins gagging. When he releases her for a breath, she coughs and wretches, and then his cock is in her mouth again, down her throat, thrusting, the knot pressing against her lips, as if he'll try and force that in too.
There is a small fear in the back of her mind that with his rut clouding his mind, he will forget her need to breathe, that he will keep his cock lodged down her windpipe too long and she will pass out. But she does not–cannot–let the fear take hold.
Julius is beneath her and he is lucid enough to stop that. And she is still maintaining eye contact with Luke, who, though his pupils are blown to black, is still there, still palpably Luke where she can feel him in the bond. His mind is not totally lost to the madness.
She relaxes, trusting that her mates will not harm her, trusting that they will take care of her, even in this state.
Time is quickly lost. She disappears into the rhythm of their rut, the endless thrusting and need pulsing between the four of them like a living thing. Pleasure consumes her until Eden disappears and only they remain inside her.
Her pussy is never empty long. As soon as one's knot has deflated enough that it can be manipulated out of her, the next one is inside her, one after the other, thrusting like their redemption can be found in her womb, the tips of their cocks nudging beneath her cervix at a place that makes her see stars.
She is laying on her front, sandwiched between Luke and Tenor, her face nuzzling against the dark curling hair on Luke's chest. Her knees had been rubbed raw hours ago, but the pain is lost in the back of her mind. It is a rare period of rest and quiet, and her body is thankful for the reprieve.
Tenor's fingers are tracing around her mons pubis, feeling around where her pussy is stretched around the base of Luke's knot, probing her perineum, and then up to her ass.
They're slippery with their combined fluids, and with how stretched wide she is around Luke's knot, they slip into her tight ass more easily than she would have expected.
There is a small bite of pain with the intrusion, but she does not tense or deny him.
He doesn't begin to thrust them or do much more than groan at the feeling of her ass squeezing his knuckles, thrust up as deep as he can get them.
After a moment, she relaxes into it. She feels him begin to jerk himself off with his other hand, as if imagining it is his cock there instead of his fingers.
When Luke's cock falls away from her, Tenor is there taking his place. He thrusts into her raw passage without hesitation, his fingers still lodged in the back as well.
Julius thrusts himself down her throat, and then she is full of them, every hole filled with her mates.
The feeling drives her to the edge of her pleasure, and then she loses herself again to the madness of the rut, her mind going as blank and soft as a soothing blanket.
There is no sense of time or reality, only them.
When she comes to again, she doesn't know how long it's been.
One of them is always there, filling her.
Even when she falls asleep against them, one of them is inside her, either thrusting frantically or knotted in place.
They give her mouth a break when she rests, but one of them is always there toying with her ass and filling her pussy until her belly is taut and distended with cum.
She doesn't question or resist it, just accepts their presence in her body, however they want her.
When she wakes again, she doesn't know how many times she has drifted in and out or how long she was asleep, but it is Julius' fingers in her ass now, two or three or four of them, she doesn't know. Tenor is beneath her, knotted in her pussy and dozing lightly.
"You can fuck me, if you want," she offers. Her voice sounds rough to her own ears and her throat is raw as she tries to speak. She doesn't know how long it's been since she had spoken or made any sound other than whimpering or moaning or gagging around them.
"My ass," she clarifies for him when he doesn't do anything, and a low snarl escapes Julius' throat.
"You do not want me thinking about fucking your ass right now, Eden" he growls.
She doesn't respond, just leans forward and tilts her hips back as much as she can with Tenor behind her pubic bone, offering herself to him in silent submission.