Chapter 63
THEO
I’ve had more dick and balls in my face over the past five days than in all my years playing professional rugby combined. Not even a locker room and showers with twenty other men on the regular could have prepared me for what it would be like during Wren’s first heat.
Every time I close my eyes, a parade of prominent veins, swollen knots, and indented, clenching ass cheeks mid-thrust is right there to behold.
Having the stamina to handle a heat at short notice?
This shit certainly isn’t for the weak-willed.
Our pack has worked seamlessly, combining to give Wren everything she needed as often as she needed it during the past four days.
Group dynamics aren’t always predictable or perfect, but Connor and Ace have been the type of Alphas I’m grateful to be part of a unit with.
They’ve even seemed okay with my tendency to take charge.
Neither of them has punched me in the mouth for bossing them around, partway through rutting into our girl.
Which is something of a miracle, all things considered.
Three Alphas running on minimal sleep would ordinarily be enough to have tensions climbing high.
Exhaustion has been the mainstay, and we’ve been on constant rotation of servicing our Omega’s needs.
In between the knotting and orgasms, I’ve done my best to make sure we’ve all been getting fluids in, to occasionally get Wren to sip on a protein shake, and especially important…
to remind Connor to carbo-load before today.
I couldn’t care less if they tease me for eternity about slipping into old habits and Captain-on-the-rugby-pitch-issuing-orders mode.
There have been times when it felt like I’d fallen back to a time when I had a full squad to drill before a big match, to make sure they had their game face on, and to turn up totally committed to training.
Jesus, at the rate limbs were flying around and colliding at some stages over the past few days and nights, we could’ve used mouthguards or tackle pads.
Wren has more bruises than I’m comfortable with, but she seems to like them. Her grin grows wider each time she finds a new one. All of us are lethargic with soreness and heaviness filling our limbs. We all desperately need a proper night’s sleep.
In the back of my mind, I’ve been trying to make sure to take care of Connor as much as possible.
We’ve figured out the simplest way to keep him match fit, relying on a steady supply of hydration sachets and electrolytes.
The added bonus of which, he was able to convince Wren to drink whatever he was drinking.
I mean, half the time he was just spitting it into her mouth, telling her “Good little Omegas swallow,” but whatever works, I guess.
Other than that, I’ve kept an eye on him. Reminding the guy to power through as many gels, gummies, and protein bars as he could stomach. It’s not foolproof, but it’ll have to do.
Never in my playing days was I pushed to limits like this. I honestly don’t think I can come again. I can’t possibly get hard again. Do I have a single drop of cum left in my body?
Every time I look at Wren, I’m wondering if I’ve done enough to take care of her in other ways during the course of her heat.
After day two, I gave up on attempting to deal with her bird’s nest hair, settling for a combination of tactics; coaxing, pleading, or outright carrying her into the bathroom for the occasional wash.
Just like during our bath we took together yesterday, which typically ended up with Wren getting her way.
She worked out a trick—bargaining over cleaning and soaping her up in exchange for being impaled on one of our cocks while the others took over washing duty.
Connor snuck off to the match earlier, but fortunately, our girl was exhausted enough to sleep through most of the time he’s been gone from the nest. But one thing is for certain, both he and Ace couldn’t have gone at the same time.
I couldn’t have dealt with Wren’s needs solo.
That realization makes me seriously worried for future heats and what we might need to plan ahead for.
Having two of my starting team members out of action every time a heat rolls around?
The consequences of that… I don’t want to think about. Not when the pro league is so determined to willfully misunderstand Omegas and their packs. My brain is too wiped to think about a solution right now. There has to be one, I just can’t fathom what that might be.
As I lie with Wren tucked into my side, stroking up and down her spine, I hear the distant noise of the front door closing.
It’s Connor, back from tonight’s match, freshly showered, and as he creeps inside her nest, I can already read his energy from across the room. He’s doing his best to tread lightly and not startle our girl, but he’s on the high of a win, even while damn near crawling back in here running on fumes.
“Better not have a speck of dirt left on you,” Ace says drowsily, with an arm thrown over his eyes. “I’m not putting up with you smelling like a muddy jock strap because you couldn’t be bothered to scrub properly.”
“Sniff test? My balls are all yours if you wanna check?”
“Get fucked, Scotland.”
He chuckles at the sound of Ace’s voice, croaky with sleep, followed by a yawn.
“It was a good thing that the other team was an easy beat. Any more of a competitive game, and I might have passed out on my feet.”
“San Diego?” I ask.
Connor shakes his head while stripping naked beside the door. “Nah, that’s the next round. Tonight was Delaware.”
“Shit. Yeah, of course.” Hell, I really don’t know what day it is. I can’t even remember the team’s draw.
He climbs over our legs, all broad shoulders and damp hair, nuzzling and wriggling his way into the space between Palamo and Wren. “How’s she doing?”
I take the opportunity to pass her over to his waiting arms. “Tired. Worn out. She needs rest.”
“You do, too, old man. I’ll take over cuddle-duty from here.
” He gives me a crooked grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got her…
go and eat something... I picked up pizza on the way back from the stadium.
” As he says the words, his brows pinch together.
“Fuck knows what toppings I got, though, sorry. I could barely talk, just grunted at them to give me whatever they wanted.”
“I’ll eat later.” Truthfully, I don’t think I can find the energy to stand up right now. “Thanks for doing that.”
“You’re not the only Alpha in this pack, Theo.
Time to let someone else step in and take care of things, hmm?
” His ocean eyes are more gray as we lie side by side, staring at each other, our girl tucked between our naked bodies.
The guy must be wrecked after playing a full eighty minutes, yet he’s here and hasn’t hesitated to offer to step in and assume responsibility for Wren’s needs.
I’m about to say something… not sure what exactly…
when my eyes flicker down his face to land on that mouth covered in slightly longer stubble than normal.
My throat works down a swallow, scenting all that freshness of heather and spring rain that is Connor Renfro.
He’s damn compelling, and I’m so fatigued, but something stirs down low in my gut in the presence of his warmth.
Matched with the allure of his lazy grin, I’m drawn closer without knowing or fully understanding why.
Connor slides his tongue slowly along his bottom lip, eyes bouncing over my face, down to my bare chest, then back up again. In response, my pulse does a stutter-step.
As if she can feel whatever this thick cloud of tension is between us, a shiver races through our girl.
She stirs, blinks heavy lashes. Her immediate reaction as his scent registers is so damn enthralling to watch.
She writhes in his arms to position herself over his chest, except it’s not an overjoyed Omega that greets him. Wren glares daggers in disapproval.
“I know, Bambi. I’m sorry, I had to go win a rugby match.” He pulls her fingertips to his mouth and kisses them gently. “But I’m back now.”
She huffs and whines, shaking her head.
“Scored two tries just for you.”
Her raised eyebrow says it all. Bullshit.
“Aww… you’re telling me you don’t want your Alpha to run around in short shorts getting all filthy and sweaty anymore? Want me to retire?”
That has her chewing on her bottom lip, obviously torn between her displeasure that he dared leave the nest and her usual enjoyment of his natural talents as an athlete. Quick as a flash, she starts grinding herself against his torso, dragging her slick over his freshly showered skin.
Ace props up on his elbow, casting an eye over our girl. “Peaches, you need to let yourself rest. We’re not going anywhere.”
That earns him a pointed look as she pushes an accusatory finger in Connor’s face.
“None of that.” He leans across Connor to stroke her cheek. “Our perfect Omega has three Alphas ready to give you everything you want… don’t you?”
The subtle motion puts their massive frames into a position where they’re entwined in each other’s arms. As soon as Wren spies the way they’re basically spooning, her face lights up, hungry eyes flitting down to their half-hard dicks and legs tangled together.
We’ve all moved long past worrying about our junk rubbing up against each other’s bodies, but this is the first time Wren has been in a lucid enough state to outright notice that detail.
Ace lets his hand slide to softly pinch her chin, studying her in silence for a long moment. Whatever they exchange during that pause, he makes a rough noise in the back of his throat, then drops his hand. His palm settles over Connor’s toned stomach, splaying possessively there.
The temperature in the room skyrockets.
It could just be me, and my newly discovered interest in watching, but seeing them interact in such an intimate way is apparently doing things for me as much as it is for our needy Omega.