"You can." His lips brushed my ear. "You're strong enough for this. Strong enough for all of us."
Oakley hooked his fingers in my underwear and pulled them aside. Then his tongue was on me properly, no barriers, and I gasped at the first direct contact.
"That's it," Dorian murmured, moving closer to watch. "Let him make you feel good."
Corvus's hands slid up to cup my breasts through the thin shirt, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already hard. Every sensation layered—Oakley's mouth, Corvus's hands, Dorian's eyes watching me come apart, the knowledge that minutes ago Dorian had been inside Oakley making this a continuation of their pleasure.
Pack. This was what pack really meant. Not bonds and biology, but this—choosing to bring each other pleasure, to be vulnerable together, to build something bigger than any individual want.
"I'm going to—" I couldn't finish the sentence. Oakley did something with his tongue that scattered my thoughts completely.
"Then come," Dorian commanded. "Let us see you fall apart."
I did. The orgasm hit hard and sudden, tearing through me with an intensity that had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with choice. I came crying out, held between Corvus's solid warmth and Oakley's devastating mouth, watched by Dorian's ice-blue eyes.
Before I could fully come down, Oakley was moving up my body, kissing me so I could taste myself on his lips. His hand slid between my legs, fingers replacing his mouth, working me through the aftershocks.
"Again," he said against my mouth. "Give us another one."
"I can't!"
"You can." His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made me see stars. "You're stronger than you think."
Corvus's hands never stopped moving, learning my body through touch. And Dorian—Dorian knelt beside us, his hand joining Oakley's between my legs, two sets of fingers working together.
"Where do you want me?" Dorian asked, voice strained with want.
"I don't—" I gasped as they hit that perfect spot together. "Anywhere. Everywhere."
He kissed me then, swallowing my moans as Oakley and Corvus worked me expertly. The feeling of being surrounded, touched, wanted by all three of them sent me over the edge again.
This orgasm was slower, deeper, rolling through me in waves that left me trembling and gasping. Dorian kissed me through it, swallowing my moans, his free hand gentle in my hair.
"Perfect," he murmured. "You're fucking perfect."
Corvus was still hard against my back, I realized. Still hadn't finished despite how close he'd been when I walked in.
"Your turn," I said, voice wrecked.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." I turned in his arms, meeting his dark eyes. "Show me what you like."
His breath caught. "Vespera."
"Show me."
He did. Guided my hand to him, showed me the rhythm he preferred, the pressure that made him gasp. Oakley moved to help, his larger hand covering mine, teaching me through touch. And Dorian, watching, leaned in to kiss Corvus with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
When Corvus came, it was with a broken sound, spilling over our joined hands, his body shaking with the force of it.
Silence after. Breathing. Four bodies tangled together in Dorian's massive bed, morning light painting us in gold.
"Well," I said finally. "That happened."
Oakley laughed, slightly hysterical. "That's your post-orgasm observation? 'That happened'?"
"What do you want me to say? 'Gosh, pack mates, that was swell'?"
