I arched off the mattress, a cry tearing from my throat.
"Alfie," I sobbed. The colors exploded, deep, velvety indigo and molten copper, swirling together.
"I've got you," he groaned, withdrawing and slamming back in. The rhythm was erratic, driven by pure instinct. "I'm here. I'm deep. Copy that?"
"Copy," I gasped.
Kit’s hands were the only reason I wasn’t being pulverized against the bunk wall. He had anchored himself behind me, his palms harsh and warm on my hips, guiding Alfie’s erratic, piston-like thrusts with the steady precision of a drummerkeeping time. He was absorbing the impact, his body a shock absorber between my spine and reality.
"That’s it, good lass," Kit growled, his voice a rough vibration against the shell of my ear, smelling of espresso and sweet tobacco. "Proper lovely. Take him. Take all of it."
I tried to answer, to tell him the input was hitting the red, but Euan leaned in from the side. He captured my mouth in a kiss that was less about passion and more about containment. He tasted of control. Cool, toasted tea and the snap of sesame brittle. He swallowed my screams, his tongue sweeping my mouth with methodical intent, muffling the noise as Alfie picked up the pace.
Alfie was snapping his hips now, a frantic, animalistic motion that shook the entire frame of the bus. It was a chaotic frequency, a wall of sound that vibrated in my teeth.
It was too much. It was everything.
I was completely surrounded, my sensory inputs overwhelmed. Behind me, Kit was solid earth and dark molasses, an immovable object. Inside me, Alfie was burnt sugar and fire, a kinetic force. In my mouth, Euan was clean air and structural integrity.
The pack. They were rewriting my operating system code by code.
"I'm close," Alfie panted, the words tearing out of his chest. He collapsed his weight onto his forearms, his forehead dropping to rest heavily against mine, sweat slicking our skin together. "Fox, fuck, I’m close. Can I... Z, can I knot? Please. I need to tie you down."
The question cut through the haze like a feedback spike.
The knot. The biological lock. The ultimate claim ofstaywithout the bite.
My brain flashed to the table across the narrow aisle. The Exit Card was there. Face down. The laminate plastic thatpromised I could walk away, that I could eject before the session got too heavy.
Then I opened my eyes. I looked at Alfie. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris, swimming with tears of sheer effort and terrifying adoration. He was waiting. He was shaking with the need to claim, but he was waiting for the signal.
"Tie me down," I whispered against his bruised lips. "Don't let me run."
He let out a guttural roar, a sound that belonged in a stadium, and hammered into me. His hips stuttered, dragging out the motion as the biological lock engaged. I felt the swell immediately, a pressurized expansion inside me, filling the negative space, stretching me to the point of beautiful, agonizing fullness. It felt like the bass dropping in a mix, rattling the floorboards, taking up every available frequency range.
"Locking," Euan observed, breaking the kiss to look down. His hand pressed flat to my lower belly, his long, cool fingers reading the internal shift like he was checking a fader level. "She’s accommodating the swell. The latch is secure."
"Stay," Kit commanded, his arms wrapping tighter around both of us, welding the three of us together. He crushed me between his broad chest and Alfie’s sleek, trembling form. "We’ve got you, love. Nobody moves. We ride it out."
The orgasm hit me then, triggered by the impossible fullness of the knot and the sheer, crushing weight of three Alphas verifying my existence. It wasn't a wave; it was a blown circuit. It rolled through me, shaking my body apart at the seams.
I felt the colors wash out, the indigo and copper bleaching into a blinding white light that seared behind my eyelids. I felt the tears leaking from my eyes, hot and fast, mixing with the sweat on my cheeks.
Alfie rode his own release a second later, groaning my name into the curve of my neck. He poured himself into me, pulsingwith a rhythm that matched the frantic heartbeat he’d played on stage for thousands, but was now beating only for me.
We stayed like that for a long time. The bus rumbled beneath us, heading north through the rain.
Slowly, the colors began to separate again. The blinding white faded to soft blues and warm browns.
Alfie was heavy on top of me, still knotted, his breathing ragging against my collarbone. Kit was a furnace at my back. Euan was stroking my hair, untangling the knots with gentle, precise fingers.
"Status?" Euan whispered.
I blinked, staring up at the ceiling of the bus.
"Alive," I croaked.
Alfie let out a wet laugh against my neck. He lifted his head, his face flushed, lips swollen. He looked at me with a tenderness that terrified me more than the sex.
