9. Calliope #2
The tube is small when I pick it up. Smooth plastic, printed label, no scent I can detect through the cap. It feels too ordinary to carry the weight my chest wants to put on it. “If it helps him, I don’t mind,” I say.
Garrett’s eyes come back to mine. “Only if it helps you too.”
I want that to be true. I want the buffer to be another kind of tea, another soft shirt chosen before a first meeting, another practical thing that proves we are all trying. I close my hand around the tube. “I’ll keep it with me and decide upstairs.”
“Good.” Garrett reaches over and squeezes my hand once before letting go. “That’s all I’m asking.”
From upstairs, something thumps, followed by Sloane’s laugh and Idris saying his name in a tone that makes my face heat. Garrett hears it too, because his mouth curves while he gathers the papers back into a neat stack.
“I should check on them,” I say, already standing.
“That may be wise.” Garrett’s voice stays dry, but his eyes are warm when he looks up at me. “Drink your tea, sweetheart. You might need the energy.”
My face feels like it’s on fire as I chug most of it, Garrett laughing when I rush up the steps with the scent buffer crushed in my hand.
By the time I reach the upstairs hall, the air is warmer than it was when I left.
The bathroom door is open, steam slipping into the hallway.
A damp towel lies abandoned outside the bedroom, and there’s water on the floor where someone crossed the room without drying off properly.
I expect to find Sloane at the sink and Idris looking irritated about the towel, or both of them half-dressed and pretending they didn’t make the mess.
Instead, I find them already on the bed. Sloane is on his back near the edge, his dark hair wet against the pillow. Idris is over him, one hand braced beside Sloane’s head, the other gripping the back of Sloane’s knee to keep him open while he fucks him in slow, deep strokes.
Every thrust rolls Sloane’s body against the mattress, Sloane’s cock hard against his stomach, low sounds peeling from his lips every time Idris bottoms out with half pleasure, half helpless want. Sloane’s head tips back farther, his gaze catching on me from the entrance.
His hand lifts from the sheets, reaching. “Come here, sweetness,” he says, voice wrecked. “Sit on my face.”
My pulse jumps, heat flooding through me, followed by a quick flush of embarrassment that I’m still standing here holding a plastic tube while Sloane looks at me like that. Then my gaze drops to the scent buffer in my hand, and Sloane follows it.
His expression shifts, the teasing softening into something sharper. “What’s that?”
I step closer, the tube still in my palm. “Garrett gave it to me. Bellwether included it in the first-contact kit. It’s supposed to soften my scent for a few hours so Theo has more room when he walks in. He said he’s talking to you too—about the pre-rut—so it’s for the whole pack, not just me.”
Idris’s hips slow but don’t stop. He stays deep inside Sloane, watching me over his body. Sloane reaches up, takes the tube from my hand, and sets it on the nightstand without looking at it again.
“You don’t need to smell less like yourself in your own house,” he says. I start to explain the practical reasons again but Sloane shakes his head once. “I want you exactly as you are.”
Idris’s voice cuts in. “Come here, Callie.”
I look between them, swallowing nervously as I debate explaining the benefits of the cream anyway.
Idris lets out a soft growl, directing my attention to him as his hips come to a complete stop.
His eyes are nearly black, his dreads pooled around his face as he stares at me, the complete embodiment of desire and control all in one.
“Callie, Theo will either love this home as it is or he won’t but we aren't going to alter ourselves because we think it might be easier on him. If you want to wear it, then do.” He pauses, waiting for me to nod.
“Now, would you like to sit on your Alpha’s face as I take him apart?
I’m hoping it’ll break the rut phase before this afternoon. ”
I smirk, stepping closer as I shed my pants. “I would love to sit on his face.”
Sloane hums as Idris holds out his hand this time, helping me onto the bed.
He drags me into a full kiss before letting me go and resituating the three of us until Sloane’s head is against the headboard.
I twist around to look down at my Alpha, Sloane’s hands wrapping around my thighs, his fingers already hooked into my panties.
My laugh at his eagerness slowly morphs into a groan as he stuffs his face between my thighs before pulling me fully down on his face.
The first stroke of his tongue is slow and filthy, dragging through my folds like he’s been waiting for exactly this.
I gasp, one hand bracing on Sloane’s chest, the other sinking into his damp hair.
Behind me I feel Idris adjust, keeping his cock buried in Sloane but slowing the rhythm so Sloane can focus.
Sloane’s hands tighten on my thighs, Idris’ voice reaching me again, quiet and rough with heat. “Look at you. Already so wet for us. Going to sit there and let him eat you while I fuck him?”
I answer with a broken sound as Sloane sucks harder on my clit, and the three of us settle into the new rhythm. Idris doesn’t stay slow for long.