She’s perched on the padded surface, knees spread wide and spine a perfect curve as her hands brace on the bench beneath her. He shifts so that he’s standing behind her, one foot on the floor, one knee resting on the cushion between hers, his hand already sliding up the slope of her back.
“You’re still sore,” he says low, his voice ragged with restraint.
She tilts her head back toward him.
“Don’t care,” she pants. “I want it.”
Fuck.
Something twists in my gut: the kind of possessive burn that should make me tear her away from him, should make me remind her she begged formyknot first, but it doesn’t.
I just get harder.
I step in front of her, fists clenching at my sides, and I swear I could come just from the sight of her like this: flushed, panting, dripping slick down her thighs, and kneeling between two alphas like she was fucking made for it. My cock is already in my hand, thick and aching, and I stroke it as I stare her down.
“Look at you,” I murmur. “So greedy.”
Her hazel eyes meet mine. Her lips curve slightly before she leans forward without a word and sucks the tip of my thumb into her mouth, all while holding my gaze. Her tongue swirls, hot and wet, and my hips jerk forward despite myself.
Behind her, Beau groans. I hear the wet slide of his cock dragging between her thighs, smearing her slick and his spit everywhere.
The scent in the room is insane. Emery’s heat, her slick, and our arousal tangled with hers.
She pulls off my thumb with a softpopand lifts her chin.
“Come closer.”
I step in, feet planted on either side of the bench, cock level with her mouth. She licks the underside of it once, teasing, then takes me in with one long, wet stroke. Her lips wrap around the head and I hiss through my teeth as she sucks,hard, her cheeks hollowing.
My hand fists in her hair, anchoring myself so I don’t lose control too fast.
Beau groans behind her again, and I glance up just as he grabs her hips and starts to press in. His jaw is tight, his brow furrowed, like he’s barely hanging on.
“You want it this way?” he grits out, voice all gravel. “While you’re sucking his cock?”
Emery moans. It sends a shockwave through me before her throat tightens, and her mouth pulls me in deeper. I hiss and tighten my grip on her hair, hips twitching forward.
Beau thrusts into her at the same time.
She’s sandwiched between us now; Beau fucking her from behind, his hips snapping forward in brutal, punishing thrusts, while I watch her take it all from the front, her lips stretched wide around my shaft, her tongue moving greedily against the underside.
“Good fucking girl,” I groan. “You like this, huh? You like being between us?”
She nods, mouth still full of me.
Beau’s rhythm stutters, and then he’s grabbing her hips harder, dragging her back on every thrust. His blue eyes meet mine across her back, and something dark flickers there—dominance, challenge, possession—but it doesn’t explode as much as it coalesces.
We’re both here for her, both giving her what she needs, and she’s taking it like a fuckinggoddess.
Her mouth is obscene, spit-slick and messy, strings of saliva connecting us every time she pulls back and sucks me in again; but I wantmore. I want to see her face break open. I want to feel her come undone.
I ease back, cock slipping from her lips with a wet sound.
“Lie back,” I rasp.
She blinks up at me, slightly dazed, but then obeys. Beau hovers as she shifts onto her back across the bench, her knees still bent, thighs parted; but then he doesn’t miss a beat—just pulls her hips toward him and slides right back in with a guttural snarl.
“Connor,” she whimpers, hand reaching out.
