7. Wraith
Wraith
Ivy's hands are on both of us.
At the same time.
And my brain isn't working right.
The water keeps running over my exposed face, and for once I can't bring myself to give a shit. Not in the dark, with her delicate hand wrapping around my cock with confident pressure, not when she's looking up at where I am in the darkness with those ocean eyes.
I can see her perfectly, light or not, because I'm fucking feral. But she can't see me. I know she can't, and I catch myself checking anyway, making sure her pupils are in my general direction and not meeting my eyes or landing on the horror of my bare face.
Thank fuck.
Thane's shallow breathing behind her tells me he's just as affected. His bulk shifts in the tight space, and I feel his presence like a wall of heat in the shower with us.
"Ivy," Thane's voice is rough, strained. "Are you sure—"
"You don't have to check," she interrupts. "Wraith is mine. And you're his brother. A package deal." I can hear the gentle teasing grin in her voice. "And besides, I like you."
Mine.
Even after…
My hand moves to cover hers where she's stroking me, stilling the movement. She goes tense, her lashes fluttering up toward me, maybe thinking I'm refusing, but I guide her hand closer to my mouth instead.
Lick her palm.
Taste soap and skin.
Watch her carefully, to see if she's thinking about what it looks like when my tongue curls out of my monster jaws. To see if it bothers her. Praying it doesn't.
"Wraith," she breathes, biting her lip.
Her scent spikes.
She doesn't mind that.
Her hand in mine feels so small wrapped around my scarred palm, like she's anchoring herself to me. Or maybe I'm anchoring myself to her. Hard to tell anymore where one ends and the other begins.
She guides my hand lower, pressing my palm flat against her stomach. The muscle there beneath her soft skin contracts under my touch, her breath hitching as my fingers trail down toward—
"Wait," she says, turning away from me.
Before I have a chance to fully panic that she's changed her mind and realized what she's with after all, she presses closer suddenly, making my breath stutter as the top of her ass fits perfectly against my groin.
"I know you're nervous," she whispers, reaching back to guide my hand to her hip. "It's okay. You can stay behind me. Like this."
She grinds her ass against my cock.
I let out a soft growl, lifted up at the end to ask without words if she's sure. Don't know how to explain it will hurt. I don't even know if I can fuck her ass. My cock is as huge as the rest of me.
“I’m sure,” she says. “I can take it. Just… go slow. Prepare me first.”
“Fuck,” Thane mutters, his voice rough as his dark eyes flick over her. He’s already hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know if he can go slow.
“Take me from the front,” Ivy says to him with an only slightly shy grin.
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
He steps forward, his hands sliding up her sides, over her ribs, while the water runs over all of us.
My hands join his, exploring her together.
Keeps me from spiraling.
She's so fucking soft. Every inch of her curves and valleys, all that smooth skin that makes my scarred hands even rougher in comparison.
But she arches into my touch anyway.
Thane moves closer, trapping Ivy between us. The space is so tight our bodies are forced together, skin on skin, no room for anything but this.
I slide my hand between her legs, finding her slick and ready. So wet, even with the shower spray. My fingers slide through her folds, and she gasps, pressing back harder against me with a soft sound that goes straight to my cock.
"Please," she whimpers.
I growl in response, coating my fingers in her slick, using her natural lubricant to prepare her. She's so responsive, her whole body trembling as I work her open carefully.
My anxiety keeps tugging at me.
Like a chain on a dog's neck.
Trying to drag me back into the dark. But she smells so good, her honey scent blooming between Thane and me, I can't retreat far enough into my mind for it to matter.
She wants this. Wants me.
So I'll give her what she wants.
One finger, then two, stretching her gently while my other hand grips her hip to keep her steady as her bare feet slip and stutter on the shower floor for purchase.
The sounds she makes drive me insane. Little gasps and moans that echo in the small space, mixing with the rush of water and Thane's rough breathing.
I lift her up and position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her. The angle's different than before. Tighter. More intense. I push in slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size.
"Fuck," she gasps, her nails digging into Thane's shoulders for support. "Wraith, you're… you're so big—"
The words make my vision blur.
I pause, writing across her shoulders with the tip of my finger, hoping she can make out the letters.
Can't sign in the fucking dark.
T-O-O… M-U-C-H?
"No," she says quickly, breathlessly. "Perfect. Keep going."
There's no way this isn't too much.
But I push deeper, inch by inch, until I'm almost halfway seated inside her. Not fully, not even to the top of my knot. That would be impossible. Not without hours of careful preparation.
My hand finds her hip again, gripping tight enough to leave marks, I'm sure. But I need to hold onto her or she'll lose her footing and slip.
Thane moves closer, positioning himself at her front. I feel the moment he pushes inside her, her body tensing instinctively and then melts between us.
"Holy shit," she gasps, her voice breaking.
G-O-O-D? I write on her back, the letters shaky with the effort of holding still so I don't tear her.
"So good," she moans. "Move. Please, both of you, move."
We start slow. Careful. Finding a rhythm that works with the cramped space and the tile under our feet.
Thane pulls out as I push in, alternating, filling her completely in turns. I'm clumsy as fuck, I've never done anything like this, but she's squirming and making desperate sounds anyway, clawing at Thane's body as he supports her in his arms.
My long tongue finds the curve of her neck before I can second guess it, driven by the same instinct that's getting lost in the rest of this. I trace the line of her pulse, tasting water and honeysuckle and the salt of her sweat. She shivers, her inner walls clenching around me.
"Your tongue," she gasps. "Fuck, Wraith, your tongue—"
This unhinged omega likes it?
I lick up the column of her throat, over her jaw, finding the shell of her ear. Trace the delicate curves while Thane fucks into her from the front, his body caging her against mine.
"I'm not gonna last," Thane groans, his voice strained. "Too tight—not even enough room for both our—"
I growl at him.
Don't need words to get my meaning across.
Do something about it, then.
"Fuck off," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. Just that familiar banter that's kept us sane through seasons of hell. "You try lasting when—"
He cuts off with a groan as Ivy clenches around us.
"Both of you shut up," she gasps, laughing breathlessly even as her body trembles between us. "And make me come."
Thane huffs a strangled laugh. "Yes, ma'am."
I feel Thane's cock slip out of her just enough to hold off, his body quaking against Ivy's as my hand moves to her clit, finding the swollen bundle of nerves and circling it.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but my clumsy, rough movements make her pant and cry out anyway, her feet scrambling against my legs for purchase because my brother and I are supporting her easily between us, his hands on her waist and mine slipped between her clenching thighs.
"Oh, gods!" she screams, her slick leaking over my palm, and the sound of her cries pushes me over the edge.
I come with a snarl that's more animal than human, a snarl I can't swallow, my hips jerking as I spill inside her. Can't knot her like this, not even close, but fuck if it doesn't feel incredible anyway.
Thane follows seconds later with a broken, strained growl. "Ivy, fuck, Ivy—"
She shatters between us, nails scrabbling against Thane's chest, drawing lines of blood, the coppery scent mingling with her honey, her back arching against me as she rides it out.
Even without knotting her, we stay locked together when we finish, panting, the hot water still running over all of us. My forehead drops to the top of her head, breathing her in.
Honeysuckle and sex and safety.
I'm okay.
I'm… actually fucking okay.
"We should probably wash up again," Ivy says with a soft laugh against Thane, her voice still rough from screaming. "Before we use all the hot water in the house."
I pull back with a reluctant sigh, my softening cock slipping free. She makes a soft sound at the loss and turns to nuzzle against my hand, coaxing me to caress her cheek as I blink blearily down at her, still not fully understanding why or how any of this just happened.
Thane reaches for the body wash first.
"Let me," he says, pouring some into his palm.
His hands move slowly over Ivy's body, starting at her shoulders, working down her arms, then her breasts, his soaped fingers sliding over the soft mounds and the peaks of her nipples.
"That feels nice," she murmurs, leaning into his touch.
Thane's response is a low rumble.
"Your turn," he says to me, offering the bottle. But his hands don't leave her body. They settle on her back as she turns to face me, rubbing soapy circles into her skin while I pour the washing gel into my scarred palms.
I'm clumsy compared to Thane's confident touches, and I almost drop the whole fucking bottle in my sudden nervousness. We move around her like we're performing some kind of ritual, worshiping at an altar we don't deserve to touch.
But she's letting us anyway.