The Next Day
Tansy
A soft, rhythmic pressure between my legs pulls me from the haze.
I moan, then blink my eyes open to the soft light of noon filtering through the curtains.
I'm on my back, the nest a mess of tangled limbs and damp blankets. Warren is hovering over me, his movements slow and deliberate, his blond hair falling over his forehead. He's fucking me, a gentle, deep rocking that settles something deep inside my bones.
"Good morning, omega," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate rumble.
He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my throat before his teeth nip me, just hard enough to make me shiver.
"You're so full of us already, aren't you?
So full of alpha cum it's leaking out onto my cock.
I'm going to add a little more." He punctuates his words with a slow, deep thrust that sends a wave of pleasure through me.
"Gonna keep you stuffed all day, Tansy. Never let you go empty again. "
“Yes.” A soft moan escapes my lips as my body clenches around him, a gentle, rolling orgasm that pulls a deep groan from Warren’s chest.
He buries himself to the hilt, and I feel the hot pulse of his release as he fills me up yet again.
It's the third time for him today, or maybe the fourth. I've lost count. Between the three alphas, they've filled me a dozen times since last night. Their combined scents and claims are a potent drug that has chased away every last shadow in my mind.
Slowly, Warren’s cock stops pulsing, and he collapses beside me, his arm draped heavily over my stomach.
My mind starts to clear as I look around the nest. Cass is on his other side, dead to the world, his face relaxed in sleep, his bad leg stretched out carefully. Grason is curled up at my feet, his dark curls a mess on the pillows, his breathing deep and even.
But someone is missing.
My heart gives a little lurch, and I scan the whole room, trying to find Beck.
Just then, the bedroom door creaks open. Beck slips inside, his blue eyes wide and cautious. When he sees I'm awake, a small, relieved smile touches his lips.
Moving slowly, he tiptoes into the room, completely naked, his trim, lithe body on display. He's carrying an armful of water bottles, his movements quiet and graceful as he navigates the debris of last night’s rut.
Right as he reaches the edge of the nest, Warren lets out a loud, rumbling snore, followed by a soft grunt. Beck freezes, his dark brows lifting, and then a silent giggle shakes his shoulders. He presses his lips together to stifle the sound, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Hey," he whispers, his voice barely a puff of air. "Thought you might be thirsty." He sets the water bottles down and kneels by the nest.
I nod, my throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper.
“Here.” He crawls into the nest beside me, then he helps me sit up, his hands gentle on my back.
As I shift, a river of warmth bursts out of me, soaking the blankets beneath me. My face flushes with heat.
Beck just smiles, a soft, knowing thing. "Looks like we need to get you cleaned up," he murmurs, his gaze flicking between my legs before meeting my eyes again. "I'll get a warm cloth."
"Wait," I whisper, grabbing his wrist. "Beck...did you...did you rut me last night?" I can't remember. The whole night is a blur of sensation, but I can't pinpoint a single moment with Beck.
The beta’s smile fades, and he gets very quiet. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "No," he says softly. "I didn't."
My heart sinks. "Why not?"
He looks down at my hand on his wrist, his thumb stroking my skin.
"I touched you," he admits, his voice barely audible.
"A lot. I held your hand, I... I tasted you.
But I didn't do... that. It felt weird, having sex with you when you weren't really there.
You were too out of it, Tansy. You couldn't give me permission, and I.
.. I needed you to want it. To want me."
My heart aches for him, for the sweet, considerate beta who held back while the rest of us lost ourselves.
I squeeze his wrist, my thumb stroking over his pulse. "I love you, Beck," I whisper, and I fucking mean it.
“Yeah?” Beck sits a little taller. “I love you too.” He smiles softly, his expression filled with so much love.
"And…um…” I duck my head, suddenly feeling a little shy, “You never have to ask. You always have my consent…to touch me. Any part of me."
Beck’s eyes, those beautiful, bright blue eyes, get a little glassy. He swallows hard, and for a moment, he just looks at me, like he's trying to gather his courage. "Can I kiss you, Tansy?" he finally asks, his voice thick with emotion.
"Yes," I breathe, leaning forward slightly.
But he doesn't move. His gaze flickers down, away from my face, and between my legs, where the fluids from last night are still slick and wet on my thighs.
"I mean...between your legs," he says softly as a faint blush creeps up the back of his neck. "I want to clean you up." His face burns bright red. “I like eating their cum.”
Oh.
A different kind of heat washes over me, one that's nervous and excited. I nod, a small, shy motion. "Okay," I whisper.
Beck lets out a tight breath, then he moves with a slow, deliberate grace. He kneels between my legs, his touch timid as he gently pushes them apart. He's not looking at me with the raw, possessive hunger of an alpha. He's looking at me almost as if he’s in awe.
Then he leans down, and the first touch of his tongue is a soft, tentative flick against my clit.
It's so different from the rough, demanding pleasure our alphas give.
This is sweet and tender.
Beck licks me clean with long, slow strokes, his mouth gentle and thorough. It’s clear he’s not trying to make me come. He's cleaning me. And it feels amazing.
I sigh, my body melting into the blankets. I thread my fingers through his shaggy hair, my touch light. "Beck," I murmur, his name a soft puff of air.
He looks up at me, his lips glistening, his blue eyes full of so much affection it takes my breath away. He doesn't stop his gentle ministrations, just continues his sweet, loving exploration, and I let him. I don't come, but I don't need to.
The feeling of his mouth on me, the quiet intimacy of this moment, is more than enough.
In fact, it's everything.
It’s late afternoon by the time Beck and I make it into the kitchen. I wanted to stay wrapped up in my pack’s protective bubble, but my stomach wouldn't shut up.
I clasp my hands together as we step into the kitchen, realizing just how hungry I am.
Soft sunlight streams through the back windows, making the dust motes dance in the light. The house is quiet, my three alphas still passed out in my nest.
It feels like Beck and I are the only two people awake in the entire world.
"Okay, my lady," Beck says with a playful bow, opening the refrigerator.
"What are your culinary demands? We have…” He squints, looking into the fridge, “.
..leftover steak. A lot of leftover steak.
" He pulls out a platter covered in foil, revealing at least five perfectly cooked, expensive-looking ribeyes from the dinner we never finished.
"My culinary demand is for lobster mac and cheese," I tease, hopping up onto the counter beside the stove. “But I’ll settle for cold steak.” My stomach growls, and the thought of steak starts to sound better by the second.
“Lobster mac and cheese?” Beck’s brows shoot up. “Fancy.”
“Not really,” I snort. “They used to serve it at Danvers, but it was pretty obvious that it was that fake crab meat, but it was still damn delicious.”
Beck laughs as he grabs a cutting board and a wicked-looking knife. “Well, I’m prepared to make you the best day-old steak of your life.”
The beta moves with an easy confidence, his trim body clad only in a pair of low-slung sweats. I watch the muscles in his back shift as he starts dicing the meat, and a warm, contented feeling settles in my chest.
He catches me staring and glances over his shoulder, a slow, sweet smile spreading across his face. "What?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Nothing," I say, but I'm smiling back. "You're just nice to look at."
He blushes, that adorable pink creeping up his neck, then focuses back on the steak.
I slide off the counter and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his warm shoulder. He smells so good. I press a soft kiss to the back of his neck.
"Hey," he chuckles, his knife pausing. "I'm trying to be a serious chef here."
"A very serious chef," I agree, kissing him again, this time on the side of his neck. He tilts his head to give me better access, and I feel the vibration of his hum against my lips.
He finishes with the steak and turns in my arms, his hands resting on my hips. "You're distracting me," he whispers, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Good," I whisper back, and then I press my mouth to his in a soft, sweet kiss.
A low, rumbling chuckle from the doorway makes us both jump.
We break apart, turning to see Cass standing against the doorframe with most of his weight on his cane. He's wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, his chest bare and his salt-and-pepper hair a wild mess. He looks tired, but his eyes are warm with amusement as he looks at us.
"My apologies," he drawls, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”
The playful mood evaporates the second he takes a step. He limps hard, and a wave of guilt crashes over me.
I did that.
I let Cass rut me, again and again, forcing him to put a ton of weight on his leg. I was so lost in my own need, in the pack's need to heal me, that I completely forgot he was injured.
"Oh my god," I breathe, pulling away from Beck. “Your knee. I'm so sorry.”