Chapter 60 #2
That’s when my girl whines, throwing herself against me to nuzzle at my chest with laps of her tongue flicking across the hollow of my throat, accompanied by frustrated scrapes of her fingernails against my shoulders.
Whether she knows we’re at a standoff over her or is unaware and just wants me to hurry up and fuck her, the disruption works.
She demands more of me, my focus, my attention. Who am I to deny my girl?
Planning creative ways to annihilate Ace is going to have to take a seat on the bench.
Beside me, Connor tosses his phone somewhere next to the mattress. “Done. Texts are sent. I’ve got an alarm set to remember what time I need to check in with our PT tomorrow. They want to take a look at my ‘sprain.’”
Ace doesn’t make a move to join us. We’re all naked except for him, and the contrast couldn’t be more obvious. He’s stalling.
“You two have got this?” His jaw tightens.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Connor does the same type of whisper-shout as mine from a moment ago, trying to keep calm for Wren’s sake.
That seems to at least soften Ace’s steely exterior for a brief moment. He drags a hand over the back of his neck. “Didn’t get a chance to mention it earlier. But just before her heat kicked in, she had a run-in with her ex and that reporter he hangs around with.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Connor hisses, then quickly disguises the noise by running his mouth over Wren’s shoulder, followed by smoothing a big palm over her ass.
“As you can see. There’s been acres of open space and time to get into all the fine details,” he deadpans.
“Nothing we can do about it right this second. But it’s something we need to keep in mind… and when I can, I’ll see what I can do.” I roll my hips beneath Wren, barely able to think clearly enough to form words.
Ace nods. “I’m not going anywhere… I just… I’ll go do what needs to be done… while you three…” He gestures with a jerk of his chin at our three naked figures intertwined, then leaves.
I’m supposed to be reminding him that we have a list in the kitchen, one that he can work through for what we need to have prepared.
However, I’m rendered incapable of any further thoughts being put to issues of my son, an asshole reporter sniffing around, or checklists about nutritional needs for Omegas.
Wren is virtually sobbing against my chest, arching and begging in the only language she has at her disposal. Physical hunger and needy demands are her only currency.
I feel terrible enough that it’s been such a disastrous start to her heat.
All my stupid notions—of being able to gently transition our way in here, of being able to have a brief conversation about her boundaries and wants, of having time to adjust to what the next few days are going to bring—have gone sailing across the touch line like a ball being kicked into the highest row of the grandstand.
We’re into sudden-death overtime now.
The rules are different, and the playbook becomes a mere suggestion.
This is us, and we’re going to have to rely on pure instinct and adrenaline.
All that tightly strung tension buzzes off her body. The three of us are panting, our different aromas weaving and intermingling in a way that seems entirely unreal. I suppose being scent-matched with Wren means that Connor and I are compatible in a way that defies logic, too.
My eyes lock on her mouth. I can’t hold back any longer.
I dive against her lips in a bruising kiss, a promise that I’ll make sure her heat is as perfect as it can be.
She offers up a needy whimper into my mouth, and I know that under normal circumstances, Wren would want to lazily make out while I slip inside her.
We can have as many nights and mornings as we like where that’s the type of intimacy we indulge in.
This is different. This is primal. This is about taking care of the chemical and physiological want gripping her body until further notice.
Quickly shifting her frame, I manhandle her, lifting those lush hips, and I don’t even have to ask for an assist. My hands stay where they are, clutching Wren, but Connor’s fingers close around my dick.
He reaches down, fists me without a moment’s pause and guides me to her drenched, sloppy entrance.
I’m fighting for my life. Her slickness and his firm grip come together in the type of moment I’ll be unable to forget.
There isn’t anything I’d change about sliding into her in this way for the first time, during her first heat, while genuinely being glad Connor is part of it all.
He’s with us, he’s joined in this, too, and I’m suddenly overcome by the urge to seal my mouth to his, to fiercely kiss him as we all connect.
But this is about Wren, and who knows how the fuck Connor would feel if I started spilling over with some sort of strange transferred sense of need where he’s concerned.
Before I can overthink it any more than I already have, gravity does the work for both of us, and I help guide her down to swallow all of me.
Connor’s hand disappears, lightly grazing my balls as he pulls his fingers from between us, the sensation so overwhelming that a ragged groan bursts out of me.
“Fuck, yes, sweetheart. Take everything.”
Wren’s shaky gasp of relief morphs into a long whine as I bottom out, the bulge of my knot pressing urgently against her slippery entrance. She clenches around me, desperately trying to let me know in no uncertain terms that she needs so much more than just the stretch and drag of my cock.
I blow out an exhale, a grunt, a desperate noise as I cradle the crease of her hips, and my gaze locks on the exact spot Ace has already held her by. Those little bruises darkening against her otherwise unblemished skin are like a map to follow.
Hold here. Grip tight. Fuck hard.
A bolt of heat rockets down my spine. I’m more turned on by that than I ever thought possible.
My girl clings to me, her blazing hot skin already damp with a sheen of sweat, as I give an experimental thrust upward.
Connor’s big frame shifts to his knees behind her, reaching around to palm her breasts and pluck at her nipples.
“Jesus.” A choked noise comes out of me. “Our perfect Omega likes that.”
There are no words to describe the way she just strangled my dick at the first hint of him playing with her tits.
I’m driving up into her over and over, all while desperately trying to cling to the small details, to take mental notes about what she likes, how she responds.
To keep track of the way she squeezes me tight when he rolls her stiffened nipples between a finger and thumb, the tiny mewls and moans she makes when I hit the angle she likes best. I want to take a snapshot somehow, to help myself remember, to make this the perfect heat.
And yet, I’m lost to the momentum of how good it feels to just fuck and fuck and forget to pay such close attention.
“Less thinking,” Connor calls me out. “Just fucking knot her already.”
“Christ.” My head tips back.
“You prefer that idea, don’t you, Bambi,” he chuckles. “Guessing her pussy just told you everything you need to know, old man.”
“I know what you’re doing, you little shit,” I growl at him and unleash.
With each snap of my hips, the rapidly swelling base of me thuds against her pussy and starts to ease inside. Her slick runs everywhere, coating me in all that perfect peachy lubrication, and it only takes two more thrusts as I hold her exactly where I want.
My knot fully slips inside her for the first time during a heat, and I know my DNA has just been altered forever. We’ve done this before, and nothing compares to this feeling. Heat, pressure, slick, and the fiercest grip of her cunt claiming me in rippling waves.
“Holy fuck.” I’m reduced to a hoarse gasp.
“That’s it,” Connor coaxes, watching the two of us, but his voice sounds far away. “Fucking hell. Just like that.”
My hips rock, my knot inflates to a size I didn’t think was possible, and we’re sealed together.
The pressure and tingling whirlpools at the base of my spine, races to my balls, then explodes.
I’m felled, reduced to nothing more than a series of deep, primal grunts and ragged breaths at the same time as I pump into her.
Shot after shot of cum erupts deep inside her channel. All of it sealed there, spilling into her, painting her with my seed.
My girl trembles with the force of her climax, taking control of her body, slumped over my chest. Her moans stay muffled and intimate by the way she presses her lips against my throat. I’m spun out. Falling headfirst into this with her. The ultimate connection with my scent match.
And I can’t believe that we’re going to be entwined in this dance for days to come.
If that’s what one single time knotting her was like, I have to hope like hell the potent impact maybe eases with each subsequent climax…
because fuck me, having my knot inside her and cum flooding her womb has left me boneless.
“You alright over there, Theo?” The cheeky smirk of Connor’s peers back at me when I crack open an eyelid. “Or did our girl just murder you with one single orgasm?”
“I really want to boss your big highlander ass around... but I’m gonna need a minute.”
He chuckles, still roaming his hands to cup and squeeze her nipples. “Quite a show, I gotta say.”
Wren arches into his hold, jostling my knot, which apparently isn’t ready to deflate any time soon. I wince. Our girl lets out a whimper of intense pleasure.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” As I murmur into her hair, my hands glide up and down every inch of overheated skin I can reach. She nods subtly. Even if speaking is off the table, her heat-brain is hearing what we’re saying.
Touching her feels like the most important language right now anyway.
So much can be said with each stroke of my fingertips, as I adore her thighs, her hips, up the slope of her waist, and back down again.
I can’t stop touching her, caressing all those perfect, soft curves, while we remain locked together.
“How long do you think you’ll be knotted for?” Connor hits me with a look that says he’s got an idea, and I’m not sure if it’s a good plan to indulge him. But fuck it. My brain is in my dick, and everything sounds wonderful while I’m wedged this deep inside her.
“She wants all of us,” I rasp out. “But we need to make sure she’s ready… for when we get to that stage.”
“Mmm. That I can help with.” His wink is filled with trouble.
I’m not exactly sure I feel ready to be openly discussing the logistics of a heat orgy, but I suppose we’re all gonna have to get real comfortable with this, real fast.
“Want me to play with this perfect little ass?” At least Connor knows to check in. Despite Wren being unable to verbally give consent, he’s still giving her an opportunity to tell us what she likes the sound of.
She nods more emphatically than either of us was prepared for, followed by a determined hum.
Well, fuck.
“Such a good Omega. We’re going to get you ready.” He reaches down to the spot where my balls are dripping with her slick, gathering it up. In order to get his fingers covered, he has to fondle me and slide around down there, and it feels fucking amazing.
I can’t help the way my head thumps back against the pillow. “Jesus. Fuck. Connor.”
“Sounds like your Alpha likes that idea as much as you do, hmm?”
“Just prep her already. She needs time to adjust.”
We’re still locked in place, and even though I’ve learned plenty about the effect of heat pheromones making knotting a quick-release process—so that Wren will be able to take each of us more frequently than under normal circumstances—we can’t move apart yet.
Maybe it’s because this is the first knot of her heat?
I might not be able to see what he’s doing, but I get a visual of Connor’s face as he stares at her ass. I feel the way he circles her hole. Every little nudge and gently added pressure sets Wren ablaze, her moans intensifying and cunt rippling around my knot.
The moment he adds a fingertip to carefully start easing into her ass, I’m in danger of blacking out with pleasure.
It’s at that moment that Ace walks back in. He doesn’t miss a beat at the sight of the three of us. His nostrils flare, taking in the scent of sex and Wren’s perfume billowing over us all while Connor fingers her ass. Reaching behind his head, he strips off his T-shirt and tosses it aside.
Now that we’re all here… fuck… there was something important we’re supposed to be talking about?
“Your Alphas are all here, Bambi. Three Alphas, all in your nest, ready to take care of you.”
Three of us. That jogs my memory. I need to spell out a crucial detail. Right. Yes. Make sure we’re on the same page.
“Rule,” I husk. “No one fucking bonds her while she’s in heat. That’s a decision she needs to make clear-headed, not while she’s out of it.”
As I glance over at Ace, he’s working on ditching his pants. “As far as being hounded by that journalist on campus, and my son… I’ll make some calls… I know you’re still unsure about whether you want to be part of this pack, and it’s nothing you have to commit to beyond helping with Wren’s heat—”
Ace growls, cutting me off. And that’s when he drops a bomb on us all.
“We’re scent matches.”