"Good boy," Stefano praised, and I hated how those two simple words made something in my chest expand with warmth, like a flower turning toward sunlight. His hand soothed over my heated skin, gentling now that the punishment was complete. "Such a brave baby for your daddies, taking your discipline so well."
The praise shouldn't have affected me—it was manipulative, condescending, designed to exploit my omega psychology—but my body responded to it like it had been waiting its whole life to hear those exact words. I felt myself softening under their attention, the rigid line of my spine relaxing as Marco's fingers stroked through my hair.
The strange, contradictory feelings—humiliation at my body's betrayal combined with the undeniable satisfaction of giving them what they wanted—created a cocktail of emotions I couldn't begin to untangle. All I knew was that my skin felt too tight, my cock too hard, my hole too empty, and these three alphas were the only ones who could fix it.
"I hate all of you," I muttered, the words lacking any real venom when my body was vibrating with need. "So much. This whole daddy dom fantasy you're playing out is disturbed on at least twelve different levels, and when I finally escape your clutches, I'm writing a tell-all book about it.Alpha Kidnappersand Their Weird Fetishes: A Survivor's Tale. It'll be a bestseller in the True Crime Meets Questionable Erotica category."
"Write whatever you want, baby," Marco said, his hands moving to help me up. "But first, I think you need to sit in Daddy's lap and let us take care of that problem you're having."
I glanced down at my cock, hard and flushed and leaking steadily. "My only problem is three alphas with boundary issues and a shared delusion that I'm interested in their twisted family roleplay fantasy. What's next on the creepy agenda? Matching outfits? Family portraits? A special omega high chair so I can sit at the grown-ups' table?"
But even as my mouth ran on autopilot, producing sarcasm like a defense mechanism working overtime, my body was being manipulated into Marco's lap, arranged with my back to his chest, my legs spread wide to face the others. The position left me completely exposed, my cock jutting up hard and flushed, my entrance visible where slick gathered despite the suppressants.
"Look at him," Marco said, his voice a rumble against my back. "Our baby is already dripping for his daddies. His body knows exactly whom he belongs to, even if his mouth won't admit it yet."
"My body is a traitor with zero loyalty to the cause," I managed, though my voice hitched embarrassingly as his hand wrapped around my cock. "It's the Benedict Arnold of omega biology. If my brain and body were roommates, I'd be serving eviction papers right about now."
The first stroke of his hand had me gasping, my head falling back against his shoulder as sensation overwhelmed my capacity for clever retorts. It had been six months since anyone but me had touched me there—six months of trying and failing to recreate what they'd done to me in the forest.
"Fuck," I whispered, hips jerking upward into his grip without my permission. "That's—that shouldn't?—"
"Shouldn't feel this good?" Marco supplied, his grip tightening as his thumb circled the head of my cock, spreading the precum gathered there. "But it does, doesn't it? Because deep down, you know you're exactly where you belong, baby."
"I belong at home, in my own bed, preferably surrounded by a moat filled with alpha-eating crocodiles," I insisted, though the conviction was somewhat undermined by the way I was pressing into his touch. "This is just—biological response. Like how your leg jerks when a doctor hits your knee with that little hammer. Except the hammer is your hand and my knee is my—oh God."
His thumb had found that spot just beneath the head that made me see stars, pressing with precise pressure that stole the breath from my lungs. I squirmed in his lap, caught between wanting to escape the overwhelming sensation and needing more of it.
"So responsive," Stefano said, moving closer to watch Marco's hand work between my legs. His cobalt eyes had gone nearly black, pupils blown wide with arousal as he scented my increasing need. "Just like in the forest. Remember how pretty he looked when he came apart for us?"
"I remember," Matteo said, settling beside us on the bed, his amber eyes tracking every micro-expression that crossed my face. "He makes the same sound just before he surrenders—that little catch in his breath like he's trying to hold back."
"Are you three comparing notes on my orgasm tells?" I asked, mortification burning through me despite the pleasure building at the base of my spine. "Is there a spreadsheet somewhere? A rating system? 'Leo's Top Ten Embarrassing Noises' compiled for your listening pleasure?"
"We don't need notes," Marco murmured against my ear, his hand slowing to a maddening crawl that had me fighting not to whimper. "We remember everything. Every sound, every expression, every way your body responds to our touch."
"That's not creepy at all," I gasped, my hips trying to follow his retreating hand. "Completely normal behavior. Absolutely nothing stalkerish about memorizing another person's orgasm face. Very healthy, well-adjusted alpha behavior."
Stefano laughed, the sound dark and rich as he moved to kneel between my spread legs. "Always so sharp, even when you're desperate for us. It's one of the things we love most about you, baby."
"Don't use that word," I warned, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way my cock visibly jumped when he leaned closer, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. "There's no 'love' happening here. This is Stockholm syndrome with a side of dubious consent at best."
"Is that what you need to tell yourself?" Stefano asked, his hands settling on my thighs, pushing them wider as he positioned himself between them. "That this is all just coercion and biology, nothing to do with what you actually want?"
"Yes," I insisted, though the word came out breathier than intended as his mouth hovered just inches from where I was aching for contact. "Because it's the truth. I'm only here because of your blackmail. The videos. Remember? The whole reason we're in this twisted situation to begin with?"
"The videos were just an excuse," Stefano said, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that made something in my stomach clench. "A reason for you to give yourself permission to have what you've been craving for six months. What you've been touching yourself to in the dark, pretending it wasn't us you were thinking about."
My face burned at the accusation, so uncomfortably accurate it felt like he'd been watching me through my bedroom window. "You don't know what I?—"
"Don't lie to your daddy," he interrupted, his mouth so close to my cock I could feel his breath with each word. "It's beneathyou, Leo. And I know exactly what you've been doing, because you have the same flush on your cheeks now that you did in the forest when you were begging us to let you come."
Before I could formulate a suitably scathing response, his mouth closed around me, and every clever retort I might have made dissolved into a strangled cry of shocked pleasure. The wet heat of his mouth engulfed the head of my cock, his tongue swirling around the sensitive tip with devastating precision.
"Holy fucking shit," I gasped, my back arching off Marco's chest as Stefano took me deeper, the tight, wet heat of his mouth overwhelming every other sensation. "That's—you can't just—oh my God."
Marco's laugh vibrated against my back, his arms tightening around me as I tried to buck up into Stefano's mouth. "Look at you," he murmured, one hand sliding up to find my nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. "So desperate for us. So beautiful when you finally stop fighting what your body needs."
"I'm not—this isn't—" I couldn't form coherent sentences with Stefano's mouth moving on me, taking me deeper with each downstroke until I felt the back of his throat. The dual sensations—his mouth around my cock, Marco's fingers on my chest—were frying my brain cells one by one until rational thought became impossible.
