“I do,” Carver said, still not letting him go.
Tex came back into the room, carrying three big boxes of pizza and a six-pack of beer. He looked at Peter in Carver’s lap and grinned.
“He’s not letting you go, huh?” he said to Peter, putting the pizzas down on the coffee table.
“No,” Peter replied, tugging at his wrists.
“Get used to it.” Tex grinned. “Once we start knotting your pretty little hole, you’ll be spendinga lotof time sitting in our laps.”
Peter blushed, smiling a pleased little grin. Carver brought his arm up, putting Peter in a headlock and growling down at him.
“You like the sound of that? Spending your days sitting on our knots, all tied up and drenched in come?”
Squirming, Peter leaned his head back and breathed heavily. “Yes, okay?” He bent his neck back, trying to look at Carver’s face. “Except for the drenched in come bit. Can you keep it inside of me, please? It’s notcomfortable.”
Carver laughed. “No. I like the way you smell with our come all over you. Get used to it.”
Peter turned his head and looked at Tex, but there was no sympathy there. “Don’t look at me,” Tex said, grinning and sitting down next to them. “Though I guess once we start knotting you, we’ll be coming inside you more than we have been doing.”
“Ugh, don’t tease me,” Peter whined.
“So, what should we do instead?” Carver let his arm fall down from Peter’s throat, gently rubbing over his nipple instead. Both little nubs were an angry red, little indentations where the clamps had bitten down.
“Feed me,” Peter demanded, relaxing back against Carver’s body and nodding toward the pizza. “I’m hungry, and if you’re not going to let me go, the least you could do is give me food.”
“Of course,” Tex said, opening the boxes until he found the pepperoni pizza that only Peter liked. He pulled out a slice, checking to see if it was too hot before lifting it up and bringing it to Peter’s mouth.
Biting off a piece, Peter moaned as he chewed. “That’s so good,” he mumbled, opening his mouth. “More please.”
Tex fed him, and neither he nor Carver moved to get a slice of their own, content to feed their omega.
When Peter was done chewing, Tex tried to give him another bite, but Peter turned his head away. “Thirsty,” he said, licking his lips.
The word was said with a demanding, regal tone like he was some kind of royal omega surrounded by alpha servants whose only job was to please him.
Tex caught Carver’s gaze, reaching for one of the cans of beer and opening it with one hand. He brought the can to his lips, taking a long sip while Peter watched on with an outraged expression.
Knowing what Tex had in mind, Carver subtly shifted his hand up to Peter’s chin, cradling it and holding his head steady.
He hoped Peter would be into this.
Tex hadn’t swallowed, a fact Peter noticed when the uniformed alpha leaned down, Carver tilting his head up so that Tex could let the beer spill from his mouth into Peter’s.
Peter tried to wrench his head away, but Carver tightened his grip on his chin, not letting go until he swallowed.
“Good boy,” he growled, his little finger stretching down to stroke over Peter’s Adam’s apple when he finally swallowed the beer.
Releasing his grip on Peter’s jaw, Carver rubbed his chest as Tex lifted the pizza back to the outraged omega’s mouth.
“What wasthat?” Peter demanded, refusing the bite.
“You didn’t like it?” Tex asked, taking another sip of beer, this time squeezing Peter’s jaw himself and spitting the beer into his mouth. Peter made like he was going to spit it out, so Carver clamped his hand over his mouth and held it there until he swallowed.
“It’s gross!” Peter objected when Carver removed his hand.
“Really? Is it the beer?” Tex asked, squeezing Peter’s jaw and making a sound like he was gathering a wad of spit in his mouth. “I can do it without.”
“Yellow!” Peter burst out, fast, like he was trying to beat the wad of spit about to be lodged his way.
