But I’m not in the mood for slow, for careful. I want them with an intensity that surprises even me. I arch back against Adrian’s touch, taking his fingers deeper, while reaching for Caleb’s cock, stroking him firmly.
“Fuck,” Caleb hisses, head falling back against the headboard. “Your hand feels so good, but I really want that pretty mouth.”
I lean forward, maintaining eye contact as I take him between my lips, savoring his sharp intake of breath and the way his fingers tangle in my hair. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely Caleb—floods my senses. I work him with enthusiasm, hollowing my cheeks as I take him deeper, using my tongue to trace the sensitive underside.
Behind me, Adrian continues his careful preparation, two fingers pumping inside me while his thumb circles my clit with maddening precision. I moan around Caleb’s cock, the vibration making him curse and thrust shallowly against my tongue.
“So beautiful,” Adrian murmurs, his free hand sliding up to cup my breast, pinching the nipple just hard enough to make me gasp. “Taking us so well, Elle.”
Miles moves closer, retrieving a bottle of lube from the nightstand. His hands join Adrian’s, beginning the careful work of preparing me for him. The initial intrusion of his finger makes me tense briefly, then relax as pleasure overtakes discomfort.
“Breathe,” Miles instructs, his voice deep and steady. “Relax for me.”
I focus on his direction, on the dual sensations of Adrian’s fingers inside my pussy and Miles’s careful stretching of my ass. Caleb’s hands cradle my face as I continue to work him with my mouth, his thumbs brushing my cheeks with surprising tenderness.
“That’s it,” he encourages as I take him deeper. “Just like that, Elle. So fucking perfect.”
When Miles deems me ready, they reposition us with wordless coordination that speaks to how well they’ve learned to work together. Adrian lies on his back, guiding me to straddle him. I sink down onto his cock with a moan of satisfaction, taking him fully in one smooth movement. Caleb kneels beside us, his cock level with my mouth, which I eagerly open for him again.
Miles moves behind me, his hands steadying my hips as Adrian holds me still. The blunt pressure of Miles entering me makes me freeze, a whimper escaping around Caleb’s length. The stretch burns, intense even with careful preparation, but Miles moves with exquisite patience, giving me time to adjust to each increment.
“Tell us if it’s too much,” Adrian says, his thumbs making soothing circles on my hipbones.
I pull back from Caleb just long enough to shake my head. “No—don’t stop. I want all of you. Please.”
They begin to move together, finding a rhythm that’s shockingly coordinated given the complexity of our position. When Adrian thrusts up, Miles withdraws slightly; as Miles pushes in, Adrian pulls back. The counterpoint creates a continuous sensation of fullness that has me moaning around Caleb’s cock, my body trembling with pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming.
“Fuck, look at her taking all of us,” Caleb groans, his hand gentle in my hair despite the crude words. “So fucking hot, Elle.”
I’m suspended between them, filled completely, utterly surrounded by their scent, their touch, their desire. The sensations build rapidly—the slide of Adrian inside me, the stretch of Miles behind me, the weight of Caleb on my tongue. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“I can feel you getting close,” Adrian says, his voice strained as he fights for control. “Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight.”
His thumb finds my clit, circling with devastating precision, and I cry out around Caleb, the sound muffled but unmistakable. The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing between them as pleasure explodes outward from my core. I clench around both Adrian and Miles, my vision blurring as wave after wave crashes through me.
My release triggers theirs—first Caleb, his hand tightening in my hair as he pulses against my tongue, his release filling my mouth with salt and heat. I swallow greedily, drawing every drop from him as he shudders above me. Adrian follows, his hips jerkingupward as he floods me with warmth, his hands gripping my waist hard enough to bruise. Miles holds out the longest, his rhythm steady and relentless until he too succumbs, pressing deep as he finds his completion.
For a moment, we remain frozen, joined together, breathing hard. Then, with careful movements, they ease away, Miles first, then helping me lift off Adrian. I collapse onto the bed, utterly spent, my body pleasantly sore and still humming with satisfaction.
They arrange themselves around me—Adrian spooning behind me, Caleb stretched out in front, Miles sitting at the edge of the bed, his hand resting on my ankle.
None of them knotted me; there seems to be an unspoken agreement between them that knotting is too possessive, too exclusive for when they share me together. Instead, they’ve claimed me equally, marked me inside and out with their scent, their seed, their care.
“We should clean you up,” Adrian murmurs against my hair, ever practical.
“In a minute,” I reply, not ready to break this perfect moment.
Tomorrow looms on the horizon—the summit, professional obligations, the real world that has no place for whatever this is between us. But I push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the weight of Adrian’s arm around my waist, the brush of Caleb’s breath against my cheek, the steady pressure of Miles’s hand on my skin.
Tonight is ours. And I intend to savor every remaining moment of it.
My alarm cutsthrough dreams at four-thirty sharp. I slide from between Adrian and Caleb without waking them, Miles’s eyes tracking me from where he sits in the chair by the window—always watchful, even in the dark.
My fingers find the light switch with practiced ease, and just like that, Elle Park the Omega who spent the night being thoroughly claimed by three Alphas vanishes.
In her place stands Eliot Marisse Park, efficient assistant to Adrian Cole, professional to the core. The transformation is as familiar as breathing—shoulders back, chin up, vulnerability tucked away beneath silk blouses and pencil skirts.
I’ve spent years perfecting this armor. It slides back on like a second skin, even as the scent of our night together clings to me beneath designer perfume and industrial-strength blockers.
