17. Aisling
Chapter seventeen
Aisling
Gunnar’s hand is firm on my arm, tugging me out of Inari’s office. The others glance at each other, confusion etched in their faces like a shared secret. He tosses them a look that brooks no argument, and they scatter like leaves in the wind—his command as final as death.
“What’s going on?” I ask, brows knitting together. We’re alone now, the dim lights of the corridor throwing shadows that flicker with an unspoken urgency.
“Let’s go see Nero,” Gunnar says, his voice a low rumble. His eyes are stormy seas, unreadable. “We need to hash things out with him. Make sure we’re all on the same page.”
I nod, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. I trail behind him, our footsteps a soft echo against the plush carpet, thoughts churning like a whirlpool. “Are you okay?”
I watch him closely, catching the slight tremor in his hands. It’s unlike Gunnar to show any uncertainty, his usual composure as solid as the concrete walls that cage our city.
He turns to me, a half-smile playing on his lips that fails to reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he says, but his voice tells a different story—a hint of something raw, vulnerable. “But this… what I’m feeling, it’s not about possession, Aisling.”
My heart skips as I glimpse the truth behind his mask, the internal war that rages within him. Gunnar, the steadfast rock, now adrift in a sea of doubt.
“Watching you with Nero,” he continues, his gaze fixed on a point beyond me, “it doesn’t enrage me like I thought it would. It’s confusing, because part of me…” He trails off, his jaw tightening.
“Part of you what?” I prompt, my own pulse quickening with a mix of fear and anticipation.
“Part of me wants to join in,” he admits, the words tumbling out like a confession. “To be a part of whatever this is between us all.”
A shiver runs through me, not from dread but an awakening desire. The thought of Gunnar, Nero, and me entangled sends a thrill coursing through my veins.
We pause in the hallway, the golden lights illuminating the red carpet…making me feel like maybe we’re ont he road to hell. Gunnar’s gaze is introspective, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows an unspoken thought. I turn to face him, searching his eyes for the root of this nervous energy.
“Did you and Nero…?” The question hangs between us, heavy with implications. “When we were apart, did anything happen?”
He meets my gaze squarely, his expression earnest. “No,” he says firmly. “I’ve never been unfaithful to you, Aisling.”
His words should reassure me, but instead, guilt gnaws at my insides. I’ve never done the same for him…and I still need to make amends for that. I’m not sure if this is the right way. I nod, biting my lip. “I want whatever you want, Gunnar.”
“Even when I don’t know what that is?” His voice is rough, like gravel against silk.
“We’ll figure it out together.” I reach out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.
With a deep breath, Gunnar nods, and we continue down the corridor. The silence isn’t uncomfortable; it’s contemplative as we each wrestle with our own tangled thoughts.
Nero’s door looms ahead, imposing as the man himself. Gunnar lifts his hand and knocks, a sound that echoes with more than just the rap of knuckles against wood—it’s the prelude to a decision that could bind or break us.
The door swings open almost immediately, revealing Nero in all his dark-haired, brooding glory. His brown eyes flicker over us, missing nothing. “Inari said you might want to talk,” he says, stepping aside to let us enter.
“Thanks,” Gunnar replies, and I follow him into Nero’s domain, the undercurrent of our collective uncertainty trailing behind us like a shadow.
The suite is a study in opulence, with plush velvet couches and an array of art that would make a collector envious. I take a seat on one of the couches, the soft fabric yielding beneath me. Gunnar settles in an armchair to my left.
Nero moves to a sideboard, where an array of decanters and glasses sit like silent sentries. With practiced ease, he pours three glasses of whiskey, the golden liquid catching the light as it swirls into the crystal. He hands us each a glass, his movements confident yet somehow deliberate.
“Cheers,” Nero says, raising his glass slightly before taking a sip, watching us over the rim. “To us…I suppose. An unconventional arrangement.”
Gunnar clinks his glass against Nero’s with a sound that feels final, and I follow suit, the whiskey burning a path down my throat, setting my nerves on fire. It’s a familiar ritual, one that we’ve shared many times in these past weeks, but tonight, the stakes are higher.
Nero sets his glass down, sitting in a matching armchair across from Gunnar, every inch the alpha in control—yet there’s a glint of something else in his gaze.
“Inari briefed me on your discussion,” he starts, his voice smooth, betraying none of the tension that must be winding through him. “I’m open to the idea if you both are. The chemistry…” He pauses, a half-smile playing on his lips as he looks between Gunnar and me. “Well, that’s never been in question.”
Gunnar nods, a ghost of a smile tugging at his own lips. “It’s good to hear you’re amenable.” There’s a respect in his tone, a recognition of Nero not just as an ally, but as someone who might become more.
“And,” Nero continues, his gaze settling on me, “I’m honored that you’d consider bringing me into your pack. Given our…unique circumstances.”
The silence stretches between us, taut and tense—a web around this perfect triangle. I’m suddenly unsure why we’re here, Gunnar’s words echoing in my head.
“Let me pour you another,” Nero offers, standing to retrieve the bottle. The liquid gold splashes into our glasses, but no one reaches for them this time.
“Thanks,” Gunnar murmurs, his eyes not leaving Nero’s form as he moves with an effortless grace that seems wasted in a world so eager to crumble around us. I watch them both, sensing the unspoken questions hanging thick in the air like a pre-storm humidity.
Nero sits back down, something akin to curiosity flickering across his features. “So, what’s really on your minds? Inari seemed to think we had everything settled.”
Gunnar leans forward, elbows on knees, and I feel the shift in the room. His next words come out clipped, almost too sharp-edged for the plush room we sit in. “I want you to fuck Aisling.”
The burn of whiskey catches in my throat, a harsh precursor to the bombshell Gunnar’s just dropped. I cough, eyes watering as I try to regain composure. Nero’s expression is unreadable for a fraction of a second before he leans back, crossing one leg over the other—a portrait of composure.
“Playing games, Gunnar?” Nero’s voice holds amusement but his eyes are sharp, probing.
“Games?” Gunnar’s lips twitch with a dark humor that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, this isn’t a game.” He leans back, hands clasping together like he’s molding his thoughts into something tangible. “I’ve been picturing it since our dinner. You. Her.” His chin lifts, eyes locking onto mine. “Aisling, come here.”
I set my glass on the nearest surface with exaggerated care, my movements deliberate to mask the tremble in my fingers. My feet carry me across the expanse of Nero’s opulent suite, each step weighted by the gravity of Gunnar’s request.
As I close the distance, Gunnar’s hands find my hips, a familiar touch that anchors me amid the whirlwind of desire and uncertainty swirling within. “Do you want this?” he asks, his gaze searching mine for an answer he can’t pull from the air between us.
The question lingers, a challenge and a choice all at once.
“I just want to please you,” I manage to say, my voice a low rumble of submission that doesn’t quite disguise the tremble beneath. “That’s what I want tonight—to please you.”
I want this, yeah…but it needs to be about him.
Gunnar’s gaze holds mine, intense and unwavering. “Then strip,” he commands, a simple word that drops into the silence like a stone into still water.
Before I can move, Nero’s presence looms behind me, his footsteps a soft echo on the plush carpet. His hands land gently on my shoulders, a touch that sends a jolt through my body.
“Let me,” he murmurs, his deep voice vibrating against my skin.
The sound of my zipper is like a whisper of silk as he eases it down, his fingers brushing against my spine, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. My breath hitches, caught in the sudden tightness of my chest.
I watch Gunnar lean back, propped by one arm, his other hand adjusting the bulge in his slacks—an act so casual yet charged with an electricity that arcs between us. The fabric of my dress gives way, slipping from my shoulders to gather at my feet, a pool of material that feels like the shedding of an old life. My panties quickly follow, already soaked with arousal.
“Beautiful,” Nero breathes out, the word hanging heavy in the air.
Gunnar’s eyes track every exposed inch of my skin, dark and inscrutable, but his body betrays him—a living sculpture of tense muscle and barely restrained power. I stand there, bared and vulnerable, caught in the gravity of their desires, in the push and pull of wanting and being wanted.
“What now?” I ask, the room suddenly too quiet, my voice echoing too loudly in my own ears.
Gunnar doesn’t say a word. Instead, he pats his knee, a silent command that’s all too clear. I move toward him, my bare skin brushing against the cool air. As I settle onto his lap, Gunnar’s hands are on me instantly, spreading my legs with a firmness that leaves no room for argument, putting me on display. It’s obvious I’m turned on, my pussy glistening with slick for these two huge alphas, and I can’t help but arch my back slightly at the exposure.
I glance up to see Nero watching, his eyes dark with hunger, his lips parting ever so slightly as if tasting the air itself. Gunnar doesn’t pause; his fingers tracing the wetness between my thighs, exploring me with a curiosity that makes my breath hitch. His touch is deliberate, sending jolts of pleasure that have me leaning into him. When he finds my clit, I almost choke on a gasp, his tongue trailing a hot path up my neck, marking me in ways that words never could.
“Lick her,” Gunnar orders.
Nero’s silhouette looms larger as he sheds his shirt, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a discarded thought. His chest is bare now, muscles defined and inviting under the dim light. Every movement is precise, predatory, as he lowers himself to his knees with an ease that speaks of strength coiled and ready to pounce.
Then his hands are on my thighs, gripping them with an ownership that sends a thrill straight to my core. He pulls me closer, and I’m at the edge of the seat, held in place by Gunnar’s steady arms as Nero brings his face to where I’m most vulnerable.
His first lick is slow, deliberate, teasing out a moan I can’t contain. Each subsequent flick of his tongue sends shivers through me, each lap pushing me further into the haze of arousal. It’s raw, it’s primal, and it’s pulling me apart, piece by piece, until all I can do is feel.
“Like that, Aisling?” Gunnar’s voice is a husky whisper against my ear, each word laced with the kind of sin that promises uncharted territories of pleasure. “You enjoy Nero’s tongue on you?”
I can’t see Gunnar’s face, but I imagine his eyes darkening with the same hunger that’s coursing through my veins. The hardness pressing against me through his pants is undeniable, and I rock against it, seeking friction, seeking more.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, a half-curse, half-plea as Nero’s mouth works magic between my legs.
“Tell me,” he urges, his hand maneuvering between our bodies, fingers teasing where Nero’s mouth is already claiming. “Do you want to watch me take him? Another alpha…part of our pack . Do you want to be the link that binds us together?”
The question sends a jolt through me, stirring up an arousal that’s tinged with something dangerously like anticipation. Gunnar’s asking for more than just a physical joining—he’s asking for a crossing of lines that we may never be able to uncross.
“Y-yes,” I stutter out, the confession torn from a place deep within me that I didn’t even know existed until now. The thought of them together, of being a part of something so intensely intimate—it’s terrifying and electrifying all at once.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his approval vibrating through me.
It’s not just about the act; it’s about the trust, the surrender, the intertwining of our lives in ways that go beyond flesh. I’ve never seen two alphas together—Gunnar, Oberon, and Luka rarely even touch beyond what they need to be inside me—but the idea of this, of all three of us truly connected…
My world narrows to the slick, relentless pressure of Nero’s mouth against me, his tongue a persistent force that drives me to the edge. A crescendo builds within me, an urgent tide that threatens to crash over and drown us both.
“More,” I gasp, my fingers tangling in the dark strands of Nero’s hair, pulling him closer as he devours me with an insatiable hunger.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his hands locked on Gunnar’s thighs for balance as he feasts on me. And then it hits—a wave of pleasure so intense it blanks out my vision, a scream tearing from my throat as I come apart against him.
Nero laps at me through the quake of my release, relentless, greedy. His grip on Gunnar tightens, a silent communication between alphas that speaks volumes about the power dynamic shifting under our very skin.
“Easy,” Gunnar rumbles behind me, his voice a low growl that resonates through my bones. He lifts me effortlessly, placing me on my feet only to be caught by Nero, who kisses me hard. I can taste myself on his lips, momentarily distracted as I hear Gunnar’s clothes rustling behind me.
Then his cock is pressed to my lower back, his naked heat against me…
Oh fuck, oh fuck…
My hand fumbles with Nero’s waistband, eager to rid him of the barrier of cloth that separates us from complete vulnerability.
“Let me help you with that,” Nero chuckles, his own hands joining mine to undo his pants. They slide down his legs with ease, and he steps out of them with a fluidity that belies his size.
The moment Nero’s cock springs free, I suck in a sharp breath. He’s big, hard, his knot swollen and ready to claim me. The sight is nothing new, but the mood has shifted, charged with a raw energy that sends a shiver through me—one of anticipation, not fear.
I’m so caught up in my own reactions I barely register the movement of Gunnar’s hand until it wraps around Nero’s length. My eyes widen as he holds Nero with a sense of ownership that’s jarring yet undeniably arousing, Gunnar’s big hand fisting Nero’s cock.
“Fuck,” Nero groans, and his lips find mine again in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. Gunnar’s hand moves on him, deliberate, confident strokes that must be driving Nero insane.
And then I feel it, the unmistakable hardness of Gunnar against my back, grinding in rhythm with the hand he has on Nero. It’s too much, the sensation of being caught between two alphas, both staking their claim in ways that are as possessive as they are pleasurable.
Gunnar’s breath is hot on my neck as he starts to kiss his way up from my shoulder, his touch trailing fire across my skin. I tilt my head to give him more access, lost in the dual sensations of mouth and hands.
My eyes flutter open at the soft sound of a moan that isn’t my own. Gunnar and Nero have found each other’s lips, kissing with a fervor that makes my heart race. They’re stunning together, two powerful forces drawn into an intimate orbit.
Without thinking, I lean in, capturing Gunnar’s cheek with my hand to turn his face toward mine and join the kiss. Our mouths meet in a tangle of lips and tongues, hands roaming everywhere. Nero’s grip tightens on my hips, pulling me closer, while Gunnar’s fingers dig into my waist, anchoring me.
In this moment, there are no titles, no pack dynamics—just raw desire and the urgent need to be closer, to erase any distance between our bodies. My mind races with the possibilities, the knowledge that we’re crossing lines that might never be redrawn.
But right now, none of that matters. Right now, it’s just us, here, exploring the depths of this newfound connection.
Gunnar’s hands encircle my waist, his grip firm and sure. He lifts me with ease, the strength in his arms unquestionable, a reminder of the primal power that lies just beneath his skin. I’m weightless for a heartbeat before Nero aligns himself with me, his cock pressing at my entrance. Nero grins at me, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and he murmurs, “I’ve been waiting for this.”
Then he pushes into me, filling me completely, his knot locking us together in an intimate embrace. A surge of pleasure overwhelms me, and I can’t help but come from the penetration alone, my body clenching around him. The pressure is exquisite, perfect.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, riding the waves of my climax as I work my hips against Nero’s. Gunnar’s still behind me, his erection pressed hard against me, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
Suddenly, Nero’s hand reaches behind me, and I feel his fingers wrap around Gunnar’s cock. It’s an act so intimate, so unexpected, that it sends another jolt of arousal through me. Gunnar groans, and the sound vibrates through my body, igniting new sparks of desire.
Nero leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. His breath is hot, his voice low and filled with lust as he whispers, “You feel fucking divine.”
Heat coils in my belly, tight and insistent. I’m caught between two alphas—their scents, their strength, their desire—and it’s intoxicating. Gunnar controls the rhythm, his hands firm on my waist, lifting me up and easing me down on Nero’s cock. The pace is relentless, a dance of flesh and need as Nero thrusts up into me, each movement driving me closer to the edge.
“More,” I pant, my voice barely a thread of sound, lost in the intensity of the moment. Nero’s answering thrust is harder, deeper, and I bite back a moan.
Behind me, Nero’s hand keeps working Gunnar’s cock with a roughness that speaks of possession, of claiming. It’s all so carnal, so raw, and it strips away any pretense we might have had left.
My head lolls back against Gunnar’s shoulder, and he tilts my head to take my lips in a bruising, desperate kiss. The kiss is messy, our breaths mingling, his tongue playing against mine. His other hand finds my breast, thumb flicking over my nipple, sending sparks of pleasure zipping through me.
Nero groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine, his hand never faltering on Gunnar. Their connection, this sharing, it’s not just physical—it’s a bond being forged in ways I never expected.
“Look at us,” Gunnar murmurs against my lips, his voice a rough whisper that sends shivers across my skin. “This is power, Aisling. This is us.”
I open my eyes to see Nero watching us, a look of pure lust etched on his features, his own gaze heavy with unspoken promises. We’re a tangle of limbs and desire, three souls converging in a single point of absolute surrender.
The rhythm builds faster, more urgent. My body moves almost of its own accord, driven by the potency of the two alphas. Gunnar’s grip tightens, his movements guiding me with precision, while Nero meets each of my downward motions with an upward surge that leaves me breathless.
“God,” I whisper, feeling the tension spiral within me. We’re close, all of us teetering on the brink of release, and I cling onto Gunnar as if he’s my anchor in the eye of this storm.
“Come for us, Aisling,” Nero commands, his voice strained with his own approaching climax.
“Let it go,” Gunnar adds, his voice a rumbling growl in my ear.
And I do. I shatter, waves of ecstasy crashing over me, my vision whiting out as I cry out their names. Nero follows, his body tensing, his release hot inside me. And then Gunnar, his grip unyielding as he pours himself into the moment, the final piece of our triad completing the circuit. His cum shoots out against my back, all over Nero’s hand, my cries filling the room.
My cries turn to moans…but Nero is still knotted inside me, my back against Gunnar’s broad chest. Nero moves his hand to palm my breast, tracing Gunnar’s cum across my torso and up to my chin before sliding a finger in my mouth.
Tasting Gunnar on Nero’s fingers…fuck, it’s intoxicating.
I open my bleary eyes to meet his as he fucks his sticky fingers into my mouth, and I swallow every drop. All three of us are filthy, covered in each other’s arousal…and all I want is more.
Gunnar tilts me into Nero’s arms, where I cling to him, his knot nestled inside me. Nero somehow holds me with one arm, and he reaches out to cup his free hand around Gunnar’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. I watch as they tilt their heads, kissing hard, my body lighting up for another round.
“Come to bed,” Nero croons when they finally pull apart. “We have so much more to try.”
And that’s how we pack up.
With Gunnar in charge…and getting exactly what he wanted.