Chapter 63 Harland
HARLAND
Harland was the first to recover. He pushed to his feet, feeling drained, dizzy and undeniably satisfied.
His balls hurt from how hard he’d come. After his orgasm had started, it had suddenly felt like Warren latched on to it and exploded into a mountain of pleasure the likes of which he’d never experienced.
He couldn’t wait to experience it again.
“Fucking hell,” Marcus grunted, pushing up and leaning on the padded bench where Warren lay bound and passed out. He took a minute to steady himself before peeling off his gloves and tossing them on the floor. He laughed and repeated himself. “Fucking hell.”
“He figured out how to feed on us,” Harland said, tucking his cock back into his underwear and zipping his suit up to the top of his abs.
“No shit,” Max said from the floor. He grabbed Marcus’s leg and used it as leverage to pull himself to his feet. “He’s lucky I didn’t knot him. I don’t think I could have kept my feet under me.”
Hopefully, Max would have collapsed forward if that was the case, rather than back and tearing his knot out of Warren’s hole.
They’d have to keep that in mind for the future.
“He seems to be okay,” Marcus said, stroking Warren’s hair before reaching to undo the cuffs locking his arms into place.
Max reached for the straps on his thighs and ankles. “He feels like he ate three Thanksgiving dinners in a row.”
He was right. Warren felt like he was full to bursting.
“Are the two of you okay?” Harland asked. He could feel how tired they were, but beyond that there was nothing wrong as far as he could tell. He himself was rapidly regaining his balance, though he really, really needed to feed.
“I’m good,” Marcus said. “Though I could probably eat a horse right now.”
“Me too,” Max said, unbuckling the last strap keeping Warren secured to the bench. He stared down at him. “Should we move him to the bed?”
Harland and Marcus both nodded. Harland, who now felt pretty much back to normal except for his need to feed, lifted Warren into his arms in a princess carry and brought him up the stairs.
While he put him down on the bed, Marcus went to the bathroom to get washcloths and towels to wipe him down.
Max, who had separated from the group at the top of the stairs, arrived a second later with several packets of beef jerky, a block of cheese, and a bag of blood for Harland.
Harland took the bag and drank it down quickly. One bag usually lasted him a day or two, and it had been a long, long time since he needed more than that in a single day.
He wondered what Warren was. Probing at their bond, Harland could feel something on the other end – something small and of a similar nature to his wolf – and it was only because Warren was unconscious that he could tell that it was there.
Whatever it was, Harland’s wolf liked it, and the thing liked Harland’s wolf in return.
“So, what are we thinking?” Marcus asked, standing next to him. He’d taken off his boots and put on a pair of boxers. “Is he an omega who’s been taught to feed properly, or something else?”
“I don’t know,” Harland said. He looked between his two fellow alphas. “Either way, he’s ours.”
Marcus nodded. They were all in agreement. Whatever this was, Warren was theirs – though hopefully he didn’t have to feed this much every time they had sex. That would quickly drain even Harland’s reserves dry.
“I’m still hungry,” Max announced after he’d finished the last stick of beef jerky.
“I’ll order some pizza,” Marcus said, walking over and grabbing his phone from the dresser. “Go take a shower. It won’t take more than twenty minutes.” He turned to Harland. “Do you need more blood?”
Harland shook his head. A second bag had been more than enough.
By the time the pizza arrived – freshly baked in the pack house pizza oven by the on-duty kitchen staff – Marcus and Max had both showered and Warren was blearily waking up.
Max and Harland sat on the bed on either side of him, shoveling down a pizza each, and waited for him to get his bearings.
Harland sat in the chair by the fireplace, enjoying the sight of his mates together.
“Am I drunk?” Warren asked, sitting up and swaying. He rubbed his eyes and looked from side to side with a giggle. “You guys are so big.”
“Do you feel drunk?” Harland asked, standing up and walking next to the bed.
Warren squinted, considering the question before he nodded and leaned forward. He got tangled up in the sheets and fell forward onto his elbows.
“What are you trying to do?” Harland asked, reaching out to steady him.
“I want to smoosh my face into your pecs,” he said, trying to move forward again. “Motorboat you.”
“How about you save that for when you’re feeling a little steadier?” Marcus suggested, putting his now-empty pizza box on the floor.
Warren turned to him, his gaze fixed on Marcus’s equally impressive pectorals. He changed course, and Marcus let him climb onto his lap and push his face right in between the mounds of his pecs.
“This is nice,” Warren said, rubbing his face back and forth.
He was really squishing his nose in there.
“What do you remember?” Marcus asked, stroking his hair.
Warren paused and sat back. “I came so hard,” he said, giggling. Then he frowned. “No, I didn’t. You guys came and I felt it. My cock was locked away.”
“Do you remember feeding on us?”
Marcus didn’t sound at all judgmental or angry, but Warren nevertheless burst into tears.
“I didn’t mean to,” he wailed.
“It’s okay,” Marcus said, stroking his back.
“We’re all fine,” Max said. “No one is angry with you.”
Warren stopped crying and wiped his tears.
“I feel so full,” he said, stroking his stomach.
“You might have overdone it a little,” Marcus said, grinning and still stroking his back. “You’ll need to figure out how to control it.”
“You’re really okay?” Warren asked, looking between the three of them. “You’re not just saying that?”
“We’re really okay,” Harland assured him.
“Good.” Warren lay down and rested his head on his arm. “I’m going to take another nap.”
He fell right back asleep.