Chapter 44 Vespera #2
I did. The orgasm hit hard and sudden, tearing through me with an intensity that had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with choice. I came crying out, held between Corvus's solid warmth and Oakley's devastating mouth, watched by Dorian's ice-blue eyes.
Before I could fully come down, Oakley was moving up my body, kissing me so I could taste myself on his lips. His hand slid between my legs, fingers replacing his mouth, working me through the aftershocks.
"Again," he said against my mouth. "Give us another one."
"I can't!"
"You can." His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made me see stars. "You're stronger than you think."
Corvus's hands never stopped moving, learning my body through touch. And Dorian—Dorian knelt beside us, his hand joining Oakley's between my legs, two sets of fingers working together.
"Where do you want me?" Dorian asked, voice strained with want.
"I don't—" I gasped as they hit that perfect spot together. "Anywhere. Everywhere."
He kissed me then, swallowing my moans as Oakley and Corvus worked me expertly. The feeling of being surrounded, touched, wanted by all three of them sent me over the edge again.
This orgasm was slower, deeper, rolling through me in waves that left me trembling and gasping. Dorian kissed me through it, swallowing my moans, his free hand gentle in my hair.
"Perfect," he murmured. "You're fucking perfect."
Corvus was still hard against my back, I realized. Still hadn't finished despite how close he'd been when I walked in.
"Your turn," I said, voice wrecked.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." I turned in his arms, meeting his dark eyes. "Show me what you like."
His breath caught. "Vespera."
"Show me."
He did. Guided my hand to him, showed me the rhythm he preferred, the pressure that made him gasp. Oakley moved to help, his larger hand covering mine, teaching me through touch. And Dorian, watching, leaned in to kiss Corvus with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
When Corvus came, it was with a broken sound, spilling over our joined hands, his body shaking with the force of it.
Silence after. Breathing. Four bodies tangled together in Dorian's massive bed, morning light painting us in gold.
"Well," I said finally. "That happened."
Oakley laughed, slightly hysterical. "That's your post-orgasm observation? 'That happened'?"
"What do you want me to say? 'Gosh, pack mates, that was swell'?"
"Please never say 'swell' in bed," Corvus said. "I'm begging you."
"Noted." I stretched, feeling loose and wrung out and strangely centered. "For future reference."
"Future reference," Dorian repeated, pulling me against his chest. "I like that."
We lay there for a while, existing together. No pressure. No performance.
Eventually, reality intruded. Oakley's phone alarm went off. Seven hours until curtain.
"Shower," Corvus declared. "Then food. Then we're getting you ready for your showcase."
"Our girl's going to be extraordinary tonight," Oakley said, pressing a kiss to my temple. "The scouts won't know what hit them."
"I'm terrified," I admitted.
"Good." Dorian tilted my face up to his. "Use it. Channel it. Make it part of your performance."
"What if I freeze?"
"You won't." His thumb traced my lower lip.
"You're the girl who walked in on three Alphas and asked to join.
You're the girl who claimed us in front of everyone.
You're the girl who chooses herself every single day.
" His ice-blue eyes held mine. "You're going to walk onto that stage tonight and remind everyone exactly who you are. "
"And who am I?"
All three answered in unison: "Extraordinary."
The shower was large enough for all of us, which felt excessive but also perfect. Corvus washed my hair with careful hands while Dorian soaped my back and Oakley held me, grounding me with solid warmth.
This was pack. Not the terrifying loss of control I'd feared. Not biology overriding choice. Four people taking care of each other, building something together, choosing intimacy and trust.
"You're thinking loud again," Corvus observed, working conditioner through my hair.
"Realizing something."
"What?"
"That I'm not my mother." I turned to look at each of them. "She ran because she thought the bond would erase her. But it doesn't have to. We're building something different."
"We are," Dorian agreed. "Every day. One choice at a time."
After the shower, they helped me get ready. Oakley braided my hair in an intricate updo he'd learned from YouTube tutorials. Corvus made breakfast while I did my makeup—stage-appropriate but not too heavy yet. And Dorian watched, offering quiet commentary and stealing kisses between tasks.
"You're going to be late if you keep that up," I said as he kissed me for the third time in ten minutes.
"Worth it."
By the time we piled into Dorian's car, I felt centered. Grounded. Ready.
The intimacy this morning hadn't distracted me from the showcase—it had prepared me for it. Reminded me that I had people in my corner. That I'd built something real and chosen and mine.
At the theater, they walked me to the stage door.
"We'll be in the fifth row," Dorian said. "Center. Where you can feel us if you need to."
"I love you," I said impulsively. To all of them. "All of you. Thank you for this morning."
"We love you too," Oakley said. "Now go show those scouts what you're made of."
"Make them remember," Corvus added.
I kissed each of them one more time—quick and fierce—then turned toward the stage door.
My phone buzzed. Stephanie: Ready to kill it?
Me: Ready to fucking slay.
I walked through the stage door and into my future.