33. Jp
JP
I wake up to the most delicious sensation. Something warm and soft is pressed against my chest, a gentle hand stroking across my skin, and the slow, steady grind of hips against my now hard cock.
A low, satisfied sound rumbles through the room—not mine. Hers.
Her scent hits me next—rolling off her in thick, sweet waves, wrapping around me like smoke and spice, like everything I crave but can’t let myself have. Cinnamon. Vanilla. Heat.
At first, I think I’m dreaming. That this weight straddling my hips, this warm, slick pressure grinding against my cock through the thin barrier of my joggers, is just another fantasy my subconscious conjured to torture me.
I remember falling asleep. I remember telling myself I could handle it. That I could be strong.
“Mmmmmm…” The sound escapes me before I can stop it. My eyes are still closed. It feels so good, like floating. Like coming home.
My hands move on instinct, sliding up soft thighs, over warm, curvy hips, gripping them tight as I press her harder against me. I’m not fully awake. Not really. Not yet.
But then?—
“Yes…JP…more…” she moans, her voice thick, slurred, full of sleep and desperation.
A soft, pleading sound—my name on her lips, and my eyes fly open.
Sterling is on top of me. I yank my hands away, still trying to understand what’s happening. How I got here.
Her tank top clings to her sweat-damp skin, and I can see her perfect breasts and hard nipples pebble through the fabric. My gaze travels lower and I see that her sleep shorts are gone.
Her naked heat is in full view as she’s grinding against me like she’s chasing something only I can give her. She’s trimmed, and the nest of her curls does nothing to hide the slick that is fucking everywhere.
Her hands are on my chest, her hips rocking. Her head is tipped back, eyes closed as she gasps my name again and rides my rigid length through my pants.
“JP,” she breathes, like it’s a prayer, a confession, a goddamn breaking point. And she tips her head to look me in the eyes, she falls forward and braces herself above me on both of her hands.
“Touch me,” she begs with another roll of her hips.
And the sound turns my self-control inside out.
My hands fly to her waist, dragging her down harder as my own hips lift to meet her. I reach up and catch her mouth with mine—deep, desperate, completely unthinking. She tastes like need, like heat, like every goddamn thing I’ve been denying myself since the second we met.
And it is so. Fucking. Good.
Her scent is stronger now—thick and dizzying, pure Omega, wild and sweet and aimed right at me. At my Alpha.
I groan into her mouth, my knot already swelling, aching to claim her. My body’s on fire, every nerve lit up and screaming for more.
“Sterling,” I pant, breaking the kiss just enough to look at her. “I can’t—” I manage between ragged breaths, between the relentless press of her lips.
But then her tongue plunges into my mouth, demanding, hungry, and I nearly lose it. She tastes like heat and surrender, like mine .
I pull back again, forcing my eyes open, my chest heaving—and when I finally meet her gaze, what I see steals the breath from my lungs.
Her eyes are fevered, wide and unfocused. Wild. Glazed with the kind of arousal that leaves no room for rational thought. She’s gone, lost in the pull of her heat, still grinding down on me like she doesn’t know who she is—only what she needs.
That shatters the haze of lust like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
“Sterling, baby—are you with me?” I ask, voice hoarse. “Do you know what’s happening?”
She whimpers, grinding down again. “Please…hurts. Need…More…”
She’s in heat. Full-blown, no-going-back Omega heat. And I’m the only one here.
“Shit,” I breathe, dragging in a ragged breath.
“Cass! Quinn!” I shout, my voice cracking from the effort. Panic surges as I try to gently get out from underneath her, trying to slide her hips away from mine. But she cries out when I do, reaching for me again.
“JP…don’t…please don’t go.”
Her voice rips straight through my chest.
The door opens fast—Quinn first, Cass right behind him. I have no idea what time it is, but they must’ve been sleeping.
They both look rumpled, disoriented. Cass is in nothing but his boxers, and Quinn’s shirtless, his hair a wild mess.
“It’s started,” I grit out, my voice low and strained. “She’s in heat.”
Sterling doesn’t stop touching me. She’s straddling my lap, her skin flushed, pupils blown. Her hair cascades down her back and tickles my chest where she leans over me, her scent thick enough to drown in. She presses soft, open-mouthed kisses to the side of my neck, trailing up my jaw.
Every place her lips touch ignites, and when she sucks on the sensitive skin below my ear, then bites—soft, tentative—I let out a groan so loud, so involuntary, it shocks even me.
My hips buck up into her. I can’t help it. The friction, the scent, her warmth—it’s all too much.
“You need to be in here,” I bite out, eyes locking with Quinn’s. “She won’t let me leave.”
Cass steps in closer, and I see it hit him—the scent, the sight of her on me, the raw desperation clinging to the air. His whole body goes tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides like he’s one second away from losing his shit.
Sterling moans softly, still grinding against me, like she doesn’t even realize anyone else is in the room. Like I’m the only one she can feel right now.
And fuck if that doesn’t make it worse.
When the scent of Cass and Quinn hits the room—fir and sea salt, mint and citrus—it’s like throwing gasoline on a fire. Sterling’s eyes flutter open, slow and heavy-lidded, her pupils blown wide with heat.
But then she smiles—not just any smile, but one of those sinful, sexy ones that could bring a man to her with a single look.
“Alpha…” she moans, like she’s just tasted the richest, most decadent chocolate cake. Her voice is wrecked, sultry, thick with need. The sound of it vibrates through my chest, straight down to where I’m still painfully hard beneath her.
She slides off me just a little, just enough to shift her weight and reach toward the edge of the nest where Cass and Quinn stand frozen—watching, their eyes locked on her like she’s the only thing that exists.
“Come here,” she purrs, her fingers curling like a siren calling sailors into the deep. “Need you…”
Cass doesn’t hesitate. He growls low, rough, and starts stripping off his boxers as he crawls into the nest.
Quinn follows, slower but no less intense, his hands already pulling at the button of his jeans, pulling them off along with his boxers. His eyes flick to me—concern, apology, something raw there—but I can’t speak. I can barely breathe.
Sterling reaches for them, one hand pulling on Cass’s wrist as he leans down to nuzzle her cheek, the other curling into Quinn’s hair as he kneels beside her. She melts between them like they’re her gravity. And God, maybe they are.
Her body arches, her thighs opening wider as she presses her slick filled slit against me, grinding hard and slow as she pulls them both into a feverish kiss, first Cass and then Quinn.
Cass follows a feverish path with his mouth that starts to travel down her neck and then to her shoulder, her body shivering at the contact.
It’s like watching a match strike in slow motion—sudden, stunning, inevitable.
And I’m still here. Still rock hard, still soaked in her scent, still trembling from the kiss that nearly ruined me. Feeling her fucking wet pussy on me, my cock so close to where everything in me demands I should be.
I drag myself back, inch by inch, heart thudding so loud I’m half-convinced they’ll hear it over the quiet, breathy whimpers she makes as Cass gently slides her off me, lowering her into the nest like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever held.
He murmurs soft words against her skin—low, reverent. Quinn’s already on her other side, lying close, his hand slipping down the curve of her stomach, sliding between her thighs to where she’s slick and aching.
They both glance up, one last look tossed my way. A question. An invitation. Begging me to stay.
And I want to. But I shake my head.
God, I want to so fucking bad it makes my body ache.
My cock is throbbing, my jaw tight, my whole being screaming to crawl back into that nest, to slide into her heat and bury myself so deep I forget where she ends and I begin.
I want her to cry my name when she cums, to lock me in with her body and never let go.
But I can’t.
I rip my eyes away. Force myself to move, to slide out of the nest even though everything in me screams not to.
She shifts the second I move, like she feels it. A soft, desperate noise escapes her lips—one that guts me. But then Quinn kisses her, slow and consuming, whispering comfort against her mouth.
And I back up.
I’m on my feet, stumbling to the bathroom. Cold tile. Cold water. Anything to stop this unbearable itch crawling beneath my skin, this fevered need tearing me in half.
I slam the door shut behind me and brace my hands against the counter, panting like I’ve just sprinted through a fire. Because that’s what it feels like.
Being near her is fire.
And I’m already burning.
But even as the door clicks shut behind me, I can still hear them—her breathy moan, thick with pleasure.
Her voice is desperate and filled with need. I freeze, every instinct demanding I turn around and crawl back into that nest where she’s begging for her Alphas.
Another sound—this one lower, rougher. Cass.
It’s a growl deep in his throat, so full of pleasure it rattles in my chest. I can feel it through the bond—how good he feels.
I know he’s sunk into her slick-filled pussy.
I know he’s moving in her, and she’s arching beneath him, meeting every thrust, greedy for it.
And then Quinn, murmuring something I can’t make out. His voice hoarse but full of command, whispering dirty things in her ear as she gets fucked by Cass. He’s probably filling her with his knot, her core hungry for it. She’ll need to be knotted again and again during her heat.
She’ll be insatiable.
My hands grip the edge of the sink. Why the fuck did I run to the bathroom? The only way out is through the bedroom—and I know for sure, if I go back in there now, I won’t be leaving her nest again.
My brain won’t stop conjuring images of her—flushed and open between them, their hands on her skin, their mouths at her throat, her chest, between her thighs.
I see her head tipped back, lips parted, eyes glassy with heat as Cass licks into her like he’s starving and Quinn rubs circles over her clit, whispering how beautiful she is, how sweet she tastes, how tight she must be.
My name could be on her lips—and it’s that thought that tips me over the edge.
I drop my head with a growl, dragging both hands through my hair. My cock is aching, already leaking, swollen and heavy against my jeans.
And all I can think about is the way she moaned against my neck just minutes ago. How her slick soaked through my pants, how warm and perfect she felt grinding against me. I close my eyes, her taste still on my tongue, her scent clinging to my skin.
“Fuck,” I whisper, bracing both hands on the sink. And then, like a man possessed, I reach for my cock, pulling myself out of my pants, my tip already oozing. I spit onto my hand and fist my length. I stroke myself fast and brutal, picturing Sterling’s face, her body, her scent.
The primal sounds of my pack in the next room fuel my lust. I squeeze my knot, pretending it’s her, imagining her whimpers, her pleas. The torment is unbearable, the pleasure excruciating. It’s a torture, and I can barely stand how fucking awful and incredible it feels all at once.
Fuck!
Because I can’t have her. But God, I need to feel her. Even if it’s just like this.
With a near feral sound, I spill my release in a sudden explosion, hot ropes of cum hit the towel on the floor. I drag air into my lungs shakily…
And I’m still fucking hard.