Chapter 44 – WHISKEY #2
"Perfect," I growl, positioning myself behind her and lining myself up with her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her slick heat. "You sure about this?" I ask one more time.
"Please," she whimpers, pushing back against me. "I need you."
I push in slowly, carefully, watching her face in profile as she takes me. She's tight as hell, her body stretching to accommodate my size. I'm thicker than Plague and her mouth falls open with a gasp as I fill her.
"Fuck," I breathe. "You're so tight, sweetheart. So perfect."
She moans, her arms trembling as she braces herself on her elbows against the mattress. "You're huge," she gasps. "So big."
"Too big?" I ask, stilling inside her.
"No," she says quickly. "Perfect. You're perfect."
I start to move then, slow and deep, my hands gripping her hips to keep her steady.
The angle is incredible. I can go deeper like this, hit spots that make her cry out and clench and squirm.
And I can see everything, the way her back arches, the way her ass bounces against my pelvis with every thrust, the way this perfect little tiger takes my massive cock.
"God, look at you," I groan, picking up the pace. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good girl."
She's making these little sounds with every thrust, half-moans, half-whimpers that drive me fucking crazy. Her head is turned to the side, and I can see her eyes are locked on something.
Plague.
He's sitting beside us on the bed, his cock hard again despite having just come. And Ivy's staring at it with obvious hunger, her tongue wetting her lips.
"You want his cock in your mouth, don't you?" I ask, grinning.
She nods frantically, unable to speak as I continue to thrust into her.
I slow my rhythm, leaning over her to speak directly in her ear, her spine dipping beneath my bulk and her soft breasts brushing the mattress.
She lets out a whimper that goes straight to my cock when the slight shift in position changes the angle I'm fucking her at.
"Go ahead, baby. Suck him off while I fuck you. I know you want to."
Plague's eyes widen at my words, but I can see the desire there too. The want.
"Come here," I tell him, gesturing for him to move closer. "Give our girl what she wants."
Plague hesitates for just a moment, then shifts on the bed, positioning himself in front of Ivy. His cock bobs near her face, and she immediately opens her mouth, taking him in with a moan of satisfaction.
"Fuck," Plague breathes, his hands tangling in her hair. "Your mouth..."
The sight of her like this—on her hands and knees, taking my cock from behind while sucking Plague—is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen.
I pick up my pace, driving into her harder now.
My hands grip her hips tighter, probably leaving bruises, but I can't help myself. She feels too good, too perfect.
"That's it," I growl. "Take us both."
She whimpers around Plague's cock, the vibration making him groan.
Her body is trembling with the effort of holding herself up between us, my massive frame pressing her closer to the mattress even with my hands gripping her hips to support her.
But she doesn't stop, doesn't ask us to slow down. She wants this as much as we do.
My knot starts to swell at the base of my cock, catching slightly on her entrance with each thrust. She feels it too, her body tensing in anticipation.
"You want my knot?" I ask, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Want me to lock us together?"
She manages a nod and a muffled noise that must be "yes."
That's all the permission I need. With a final, powerful thrust, I drive my knot inside her, locking us together as I come with a roar. She screams around Plague's cock as her own orgasm crashes through her, her inner walls clenching around me like a vice.
Plague follows a moment later, his hands tightening in her fiery hair as he spills down her throat. She swallows every drop, her body still shaking with aftershocks.
We stay like that for what feels like hours. Me locked inside her from behind, Plague's softening cock still in her mouth, Plague trying not to make eye contact with me as I flash a grin at him, all of us breathing hard and trembling with the aftershocks.
When my knot finally goes down, I pull out carefully, immediately gathering her into my arms. She's limp with exhaustion, completely spent. I cradle her against my chest, rubbing her back in soothing circles.
"You okay, sweetheart?" I ask, pressing kisses to her hair.
She nods weakly, a satisfied smile on her lips. "More than okay," she whispers.
Plague moves closer, his hand coming to rest on her hip. "That was..." he starts, then trails off, apparently at a loss for words.
"Incredible," I finish for him.
We arrange ourselves around her, creating a protective cocoon of warmth and alpha scent.
She falls asleep between us almost immediately, her breathing deep and even.
For a while, I just watch her. The way her lashes fan across her cheeks, the soft curve of her mouth, the way she fits so perfectly between us.
But as the post-orgasmic haze fades, reality starts to creep back in. What the fuck did we just do? And more importantly, what the hell happens now?
I glance over at Plague, who's staring at the ceiling with that carefully blank expression he wears when he's thinking too hard about something. The tension is back in his shoulders, the walls already rebuilding themselves.
After about an hour, he carefully extracts himself from the bed like a graceful cat.
I watch as he pulls on his pants and a shirt and moves toward the sliding door that leads to the small balcony, making no sound as he slips out.
He's retreating. Getting distance from what just happened. From what we just did.
From me.
I wait a few minutes, making sure Ivy is deeply asleep, before tugging on my boxers and following him.
The night air is chilly against my skin as I step onto the balcony, but the cold never bothers me. Plague, on the other hand, has his arms folded tight against his chest like he wishes he'd put on his coat before coming out here to brood. Or maybe he's just that tense.
"Couldn't sleep either?" I mutter.
He doesn't turn around. "This can never happen again."
The words hit me like a slap to the face even though I was expecting them. "What, helping our omega through her heat?"
"You know what I fucking meant," he bites out, finally turning to face me.
His pale eyes are wild, desperate, and I can see the panic lurking beneath his usual mask of control. He's scared. Terrified, actually. And that scares me too, because I've never seen Plague lose his composure like this.
"Do I?" I challenge, taking a step closer.
He steps back at the same time, even though I'm sure the heat from my furnace-like body feels good in comparison to the frigid air.
"Because from where I'm standing, we just did something pretty fucking amazing for someone who needed us.
And you're acting like we committed a crime. "
"We crossed a line," he says, his voice tight. "Multiple lines. And it can't happen again."
"Why not?"
Plague stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like he's trying to find words that won't come.
"Because," he finally says, but it's weak, and we both know it.
"That's not an answer."
"Because it complicates things," he snaps. "Because we're packmates, and this—" he gestures between us, "—whatever this is, it's not sustainable."
"Says who?"
"Says logic. Says common sense. Says every fucking rule of alpha pack dynamics ever written."
I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "When have we ever followed the rules, Hamsa? When have any of us?"
He turns away again, gripping the railing so hard his knuckles go white. "Don't call me that. And this is different."
"How?"
"Because it matters," he whispers, so quietly I almost don't hear him.
And for once, I don't know what to say.
We stand in silence for a long time. Feels like forever, really.
In the distance, the city lights twinkle like stars and the only thing I can hear is the soft hum of distant traffic.
It's the kind of quiet I'd usually want to fill with the sound of my own voice because I go nuts when I can hear my own thoughts, but I'm coming up dry.
"We should go back inside," Plague says eventually. "She might wake up."
I nod, but neither of us moves. Because going back inside means facing what we've done, what we've started. And I don't think either of us is ready for that yet.
But eventually, we do go back. We slip back into bed on either side of Ivy, careful not to wake her. She stirs slightly, mumbling something in her sleep, and instinctively curls closer to both of us.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, but my mind won't shut off.
I keep replaying the night. The way Plague looked when I made him come apart, the way Ivy felt around my cock, the way she looked taking both of us at once.
The way all three of us fit together like pieces of a puzzle I didn't even know was incomplete.
Beside me, I can feel Plague's tension, the way he's holding himself rigid even in sleep. Tomorrow, he'll probably try to pretend none of this happened. He'll finish rebuilding his walls, retreat behind his mask of indifference.
But I won't let him. Because whatever this is—this thing between the three of us—it's too important to ignore. Too real to pretend away.
And I'll be damned if I let him run from it.