4. Gunnar
Chapter four
Gunnar
The whiff of sex tickles my nostrils before I even slip the keycard from my pocket. It’s a heady, familiar scent that gets my blood pumping and my body readying itself for what’s to come. The door clicks open at my touch, and the sight that greets me is enough to coax a self-satisfied smile onto my lips.
“Looks like I missed the pre-game,” I chuckle as I step into the suite. Aisling is there, sandwiched between Luka and Oberon, her blonde hair tousled, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Her grey eyes flicker to mine, half-dressed form a testament to the activities they’ve already indulged in without me.
“Hey, Gunnar,” she greets me, voice smooth like the first sip of whiskey on a cold night. There’s a hint of mischief dancing in her gaze, the kind that promises much more than words could convey.
“Started without me, huh?” I observe, closing the distance between us. Oberon, ever the stoic pillar, doesn’t miss a beat, his deep voice rumbling a greeting while Luka, who I know carries the weight of guilt like chains, offers a nod that speaks volumes of the complex web we’re all entangled in.
“Couldn’t help ourselves,” Luka admits, a flash of something dark and apologetic passing over his features. He’s still trying to find his footing after his eros overdose on New Eden, and the tension he radiates fills the room, at odds with Aisling and Oberon’s arousal.
“Can’t blame you,” I reply, my tone light but laced with an edge of command that has become second nature. I step closer, and Aisling glides into my arms with the fluidity of a moonlit wave. I catch her against me, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric that barely clings to her curves.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.
“Good,” I murmur back, my hand finding the small of her back, fingers splaying possessively. Ever since her heat wrapped us all in its fierce grip two weeks ago, she’s handed me the reins during our group encounters. It’s a responsibility I relish, the control over our tangled desires both intoxicating and grounding.
I pull her in for a hard kiss, one that leaves no room for doubt about where this night is headed. She responds eagerly, lips parting, and I taste the hint of Luka on her tongue. Oberon watches us, his expression unreadable, but I know him well enough to catch the flare of anticipation in his eyes.
Between kisses, I reach for the hem of her shirt and draw it upward, revealing inch by tantalizingly pale inch of her skin. She raises her arms, allowing me to strip the garment away, and for a brief moment, we’re both caught in the raw intensity of the act.
“Beautiful,” I breathe out as her shirt falls to the floor.
She is fully in the moment, her grey eyes locked onto mine, a silent communication flowing between us. My fingers work deftly to unbutton her pants, and she steps out of them as they pool around her ankles. The sight of her, warm and pliant, her body now curled against mine, stirs something primal within me. I don’t stop until she stands completely bare before us, the alphas still clothed, a stark tableau of vulnerability and power.
“Rook didn’t want in on this?” I ask, my voice betraying none of the curiosity that gnaws at me. Her hand trails down, bold and unhesitant, and makes contact with my growing arousal.
She laughs, a sound that’s part mirth, part sin. “Can you imagine? ‘Hey, nice first date, wanna join an orgy?’”
“Missed opportunity,” I quip back, even as I cup her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple.
“Pack life,” Oberon murmurs from behind her, his presence suddenly close like a shadow joined to flesh. He leans in, lips pressing against the curve of her neck, and she tilts her head to give him better access. His hands ghost over mine, replacing my touch with his own, fingers skilled from countless encounters.
“Rook will learn,” he says, a promise wrapped in velvet tones.
“Or run,” Aisling adds, her voice a contrasting lilt to Oberon’s bass note. She doesn’t seem concerned either way, her body swaying slightly between us, caught in the tide of our shared heat. I can’t help but admire the sway of her hips, the arch of her back as she responds to our touches.
“Down,” I murmur, guiding her gently towards the plush carpet. She follows my lead seamlessly, her knees touching down with practiced grace. Even now, after all this time, the sight of her acquiescence sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through me. Oberon and I exchange a look over her head—an unspoken agreement in the flicker of our eyes.
This is pack life: raw, unfettered, and ours.
I unzip my pants and free my cock, grasping it in my hand and stroking it once, twice. Oberon mirrors my movements, Aisling not missing a beat as she takes me in her mouth. Her eyes meet mine, a grey that’s almost periwinkle in this light.
I watch Aisling work, her lips sliding over me in a rhythm that’s as familiar as it is thrilling. Her hand seeks out Oberon, grasping him firmly, and I can see the tremor of pleasure that runs through him at her touch. Luka, silent but for his ragged breaths, stands to the side—and he gasps when Aisling’s other hand finds him, pleasuring all three of us at once.
“Easy,” I say, voice tight as I take her by the hair, not to control but to guide. The strands slip like silk between my fingers, and she looks up at me, those grey eyes gleaming with a mix of submission and challenge. That look, it never gets old. It’s a reminder of who she is—my omega, our omega—strong enough to handle us all, yet yielding when it matters most.
“Give Luka a turn,” I command as I feel the edge coming closer, a precipice I’m not ready to tumble over just yet. She doesn’t hesitate, pivoting her attention to Luka, taking him into her mouth with an ease that speaks of her experience, her desire to please.
I step back, peeling off my clothes, watching the tableau before me unfold. Aisling’s chest heaves, nipples hard and rosy pink, her cheeks flushed as she takes Luka deep into her throat. Even as I shed the last of my garments, my gaze remains fixed on her, the way she services Luka now with the same dedication she’d shown me moments before. There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing her follow my directions, knowing she does so willingly, eagerly even.
Yet, as much as this scene strokes my ego, there’s an undercurrent of truth that I can’t ignore—I’m as caught up in her orbit as she is in mine. We’re bound together, not just by pack law or primal urges, but by something that neither of us has fully understood or explored.
In these moments, when the rest of the world fades away and it’s just us, entwined in pleasure and power, I know I am wholly, irrevocably hers as much as she is mine.
“Enough,” I murmur, the word barely a command but she hears it over the rhythm of flesh and breath. Aisling’s gaze meets mine as she releases Luka with a wet pop, anticipation shimmering in her eyes.
“Come here,” I say, voice edged with that half-growl that comes unbidden, alpha instinct riding me hard. She stands, a little unsteady on her feet—whether from desire or exertion, I can’t tell.
I take her hand, lead her to the bed while Oberon and Luka shed their remaining clothes, muscles rippling, skin flushed with arousal. My focus narrows to the omega between us, listening to me like she’ll obey my every command.
Gently, I push her down onto the mattress, the soft give of it cradling her body. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes locked onto mine, heavy with something more than lust. It’s a silent question, a choice given freely despite the bond that compels her.
“Knot me, Gunnar,” she whispers, and the words strike a chord within me, resonating through my bones.
“Are you sure?” I ask, even though every fiber of my being screams to claim her, to mark her once again as mine and mine alone. “Just me tonight? Not all three? Once I’m fully knotted…I won’t pull out for hours.”
“Only you,” she replies, and there’s a certainty in her voice that strips away any lingering doubt.
I nod and position myself between her thighs, which she wraps around my waist invitingly. The head of my cock nudges against her slick entrance, and I watch the emotions flit across her face—need, trust, perhaps even love.
Slowly, I push forward, entering her inch by achingly sweet inch. The tight heat of her envelops me, drawing me deeper until there is no space between us, until I’m as lost inside her as she seems to be in this moment.
“Mine,” I grunt, the primal part of me taking the reins as I lock into place with a firmness that has her gasping, her nails digging into my back.
Her hands, no longer idle, reach out to Oberon and Luka, who kneel by her head on either side of the bed. Her fingers wrap around them, stroking with a rhythm that mirrors the pulse of our joined bodies. They groan, their pleasure adding to the symphony of sounds in the room—the bed creaking, skin slapping against skin, breathy moans.
My knot swells, pushes past her barrier; she cries out as I seat myself completely inside her, her cunt squeezing around me.
Her moans crescendo, filling the air with a raw melody that drowns out the rest of the world. Our eyes lock, and in hers, I see the woman I fell for, the woman who holds my very soul in the palms of her hands. It’s a silent reminder that she is here with me, that she belongs to me as much as I belong to her, and that nothing will tear us apart again.
“Look at you, taking us all like it’s nothing,” Oberon murmurs, his voice a dark velvet that sends a shiver through Aisling. His praise seems to embolden her, and her movements become more fervent. I watch as he moves one big hand to tweak her nipple, making her pussy shudder around me.
I can see Luka and Oberon tensing at her touch, their muscles coiling like springs wound too tight. They groan, Luka letting out a primal growl, thrusting his hips into her hand. They’re close, so damn close.
And then, with a guttural sound that seems to come from deep within them, they release, spilling over her like a tribute.
The sight is carnal, riveting, as Luka and Oberon paint my mate’s tits with their cum. Her eyes flash with a wildness that stokes the fire inside me, urging me toward my own peak. With a few more thrusts, riding the wave of their pleasure, I surrender to my own climax, pouring myself into her with a possessive groan that rumbles through the room.
Her skin is sticky with sweat and cum as I lean in and kiss her, then bury my face in her hair.
“Yours,” she whispers, a single word that binds us together, even as we’re surrounded by others. It’s not just an admission; it’s a promise, one she makes every time we’re like this—intertwined, exposed, and utterly satiated.
The afterglow wraps around us like a cocoon, the heat of our spent bodies mingling in the heavy air. I shift, rolling onto my side while still joined with Aisling. My hand finds her hair, silver-gold strands slipping through my fingers as soft and light as the rest of her. Her smile is all satisfaction and sweet sin, lighting up her face in a way that makes my heart do a slow, lazy beat.
“Hey,” I murmur, the word just a brush of sound against the quiet of the room.
“Hey yourself,” she replies, her voice laced with contentment. It’s a simple exchange, but it’s ours.
It’s home.
I’m curious, though, about her time away from the pack, about the part of her life that’s just hers. “So…how did it go with Rook?”
“Good,” she says with a casual shrug, as if we’re discussing the weather and not a date that could add another layer to our already complex dynamic. “It was great, actually. We’re planning another one.” Her tone is light, easy, but there’s a glint in her eye that tells me she’s pleased, maybe even excited.
It’s strange, this life we lead. But lying here with her, skin on skin, I can’t help but find a certain charm in the normalcy we carve out of the chaos.
It’s kinda cute, really.
“Sounds nice,” I say, and I mean it. Because whatever brings that look to her face, that extra spark to her grey eyes—I want it for her, again and again.
We settle into silence, the kind that’s comfortable, filled with the echoes of our connection. The others have drifted to their own corners of the suite, leaving us entwined and content. I feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing as sleep begins to claim her, and I follow close behind, our bond a silent vow that no matter what comes, we’ll face it together—knotted, bound in more ways than one.