I can taste their relief on my tongue, the bitter and the sweet. Their bodies crowd around me in bristling, desperate happiness, as though they fear I might disappear if they leave even an inch of air between us.
Bastion presses his forehead to mine, his voice low and trembling. “You’re home.”
There’s a simplicity to it that nearly breaks me. He says it like a truth that could rewrite all the lies we told ourselves and all the stories that kept us apart.
We quickly become a warm tangle of four bodies in the kitchen, coats half off, shoes forgotten and melting snow puddling around our feet. Wyatt’s laugh is unsteady, muffled into my hair as his hands dip beneath the hem of my blue dress. His reaching fingers anchor me in the reality of this.
They want me, all of me. Even the bruised and angry parts. And I want them, royal chaos and all.
The sweetness of reunion tips suddenly into hunger. A primal, inexorable tug that draws us closer and closer. Ranier’s lips find the hollow below my ear. His breath shudders. Bastion’s hands slide up my ribs, cautious and unhurried, but his touch is fire. Wyatt pulls me flush to his chest and for a dizzy second I am suspended between three gravitational forces, impossibly weightless and impossibly claimed. Their scents—smoke and pine, ocean and honey, apples and salt—swirl around me, a dizzying fugue.
No words are needed. There’s only the orchestration of bodies, all four of us learning a new shape, the shape of together and forgiven and home.
Ranier’s fingers trace my jaw. “I thought you’d never come back,” he whispers, voice breaking on the word never, like the possibility hurt him more than he can say.
“I’ll always come home to you,” I promise. The house or pack or just the three of them—it’s all the same.
They kiss my lips and cheeks and every available inch of bare skin they can find. I sigh, relieved. Ready to surrender to this. To us. To everything we can and will be.
Wyatt kisses my neck, his breath hot and frantic, while Bastion wraps himself around my waist from behind, his hands sliding under the hem of my dress where Wyatt left off. Ranierholds me by the chin and keeps kissing me like he’s trying to memorize my taste.
They manhandle me up onto the island counter, scattering forks and spatulas. The ceramic clatter is drowned by the sounds I make when Bastion bites my earlobe and Wyatt nips my shoulder through the cotton. Ranier takes hold of the dress from where Bastion’s hands are and together they rip it off of me. My breasts spill free and my alphas’ eyes go wide.
For a fraction of a second, everything freezes. My heart pounds and my skin prickles with cold and exposure. Three pairs of eyes fix on me like I’m an altar and a prize both. Wyatt’s pupils are blown wide, hunger and worship dueling for dominance. His whole body is a taut bowstring ready to snap. Bastion’s usually mocking mouth is parted in mute awe, his gaze devouring every new inch of me on offer, hands trembling where they grip my hips from behind.
But it’s Ranier that undoes me. Ranier stares like he’s only just now realized I am real, that I exist as flesh and heat. His jaw works, the muscle ticking in his cheek. He reaches out almost reverently, thumb skating over my collarbone. A shudder runs through him, followed by a softness I’ve never seen before—his features slackening with astonishment, the whole world reduced to the span of my exposed skin. He’s seen me dressed up, dressed down, even undressed in flashes, but never like this, never stripped bare by his own hands and held up to the light.
I am trembling from nerves or anticipation, but also from the charge that runs between us. I blink, and Ranier’s gaze meets mine. There’s a question in it, a silent plea for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to begin again. I nod, breathless, and the words are unnecessary. I belong to them, and they to me, and this is the proof.
Wyatt trails kisses along my shoulder. Bastion leans in, tongue flicking over my pulse, his warmth a counterpoint to thesnow melt still chilling my ankles. Together, their bodies form a fortress around me, their desire a shield as much as a demand.
But it’s Ranier’s hands that make the first move, his fingers gentle, unhurried, trembling like he’s afraid if he goes too fast the moment will shatter. Ranier’s fingers dip to the edges of my underwear.
I whimper at his touch. I want them. All of them, all at the same time.
Ranier slips his fingers underneath my underwear and growls low in his throat. “Someone’s wet already.”
I have seconds to smirk before Ranier slips off my underwear and my alphas rip off their own clothes. When there’s nothing but air between us, Bastion dives in to kiss every new inch of exposed skin. Wyatt leans in to massage one breast and draws the other into his mouth while Ranier explores slowly along my inner thighs, eventually making his way back to my center. The moment Ranier’s tongue touches my clit, my hips arch off the counter, and I nearly cum just from the slightest touch.
They work in tandem to move me from the counter until we’re all on the floor. Wyatt slips beneath me and starts to gently prepare my ass. Bastion lines up his cock with my mouth as Ranier slides two fingers inside me and crooks them just right. Ranier is wasting no time on his first exploration of my body. Which is good because it vibrates with heat and need as my alphas and I settle in to fully enjoy our pack for the first time.
I cumfast, and then again as Ranier refuses to slow. Wyatt slips two fingers inside my ass at the same time. I arch off the ground which sends Bastion’s cock further into my mouth. I moan as Bastion does. Bastion grips my head to hold me steady. He fucks my mouth, slow at first, then deeper, groaning when I hollow my cheeks and run my tongue over the head.
Ranier’s voice is a rumble in my ear. “You want all of us, little omega?”
I try to nod, but Bastion’s cock is in my throat and I choke around it. I manage a “yes” anyway, muffled but clear enough.
Wyatt grins and presses his cock against my ass, gentle but insistent. He enters slowly and I shudder at the stretch. And when Ranier slides his cock into my pussy, making me filled three ways, tears of happiness and pure pleasure threaten to fall. My body shakes and I moan around Bastion’s cock.
“Fuck, you’re tight with us both here,” Ranier says, and I can hear the effort in his voice, the need to control himself so he doesn’t just slam into me. He moves, slow at first, then faster, until the slap of his hips against my ass is the only rhythm I know.
“Look at you,” Bastion says, voice thick with need and pleasure. “Taking all three of us at once. You’re fucking perfect, Emery.”
It’s obscene, the way they move together, coordinated and relentless. Ranier slams into my cunt while Wyatt thrusts into my ass, and Bastion fucks my mouth until drool runs down my chin. I can’t move, can’t think. Only feel.
I cum again, harder than before, my entire body clenching around them. Ranier groans and buries himself to the root, knot and all, as his cock swelling impossibly large inside me. His knot locks us together as he empties himself. Wyatt follows, his hand tight on my hip as he shudders and slams his knot inside. He, too, fills me up. Bastion pulls out at the last second, painting my tongue and lips with his release, then pushes back in so I swallow every drop.
They hold me there for a minute, panting, trembling, their hands and mouths never leaving my skin. I’m boneless, a ruined mess. But I’ve never felt more alive. We stay this way, trembling and locked together, for a long time and I realize that there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Nowhere else I’d ever feel safer.
