I buck against him, chasing it.
“Fuck,” he rasps into my mouth. “You feel that, Emery? You smell how wet you are already?”
I nod helplessly, dizzy with the weight of his alpha attention, with the way his voice drops when he talks to me like this.
“I can feel your slick through my fucking sweats,” he growls. “You’ve been walking around the Icebox like this? Letting my guys smell you?”
The question makes my pulse spike.
“Answer me,” he murmurs, teeth grazing my lower lip.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His groan is rough and pleased. “No wonder they look at you like that.”
I rock back into him without meaning to, instinct taking over as I chase the friction, and he lets me rut against him as though I don’t have a single thought left in my head.
“There’s no dignity left, is there?” he mutters, palms sliding under my shirt, rough hands finding bare skin.
His mouth moves to my throat, teeth scraping just enough before he sucks.
“You think about them?” he asks quietly, voice rough and threaded with instinct. “My teammates. You think about how they’d touch you?”
My hips jerk hard against him, slick spreading shamelessly.
“Beau—”
He lets out a dark, pleased chuckle.
“That wasn’t a no.”
He grips my thighs, pinning me higher against the locker. The angle is devastating; his cock grinding exactly where I need it, thick and relentless, rut-heavy and impatient.
“You want all of us?” he murmurs, mouth dragging up my neck. “You want my hands on you while they watch? While they take turns making you come undone?”
My head falls back with a broken sound, throat bare, pulse hammering.
“Yes.”
His growl is pure alpha: deep, feral, and vibrating through my bones.
“All at once?”
My answer comes from somewhere ancient. “God, yes.”
“That’s my girl,” he snarls, rutting up against me harder now, faster, like he’s stopped pretending he has control.
“You were mine the second you walked into that diner. You remember that? The way you smelled. Sweet. Curious. Omega enough it nearly knocked me on my ass.”
I nod frantically, words gone, instincts roaring.
Slick soaks my leggings, my thighs trembling as his hand slips between us, pressing hard against my cunt through the fabric.
“You’re so ready,” he murmurs, voice reverent and wrecked. “So open. You don’t even fight it.”
He rubs slow, brutal circles, thumb grinding exactly where I’m most sensitive, and the pressure snaps something loose deep inside me. I come with a cry that echoes off the lockers, my whole body shuddering violently as heat detonates low and hard.
My legs lock around him, slick flooding as my scent spikes sharp and unmistakable. I shake in his arms, breath tearing loose in broken sobs I can’t stop.
