I reached out. I ran my hands over his chest, playing with his nipples for a moment before I slid my hand over his damp stomach. He rocked against my touch and Stephen's fingers as I moved lower.
He was hard, painfully so, leaking pre-come that mixed with the sweat on his thighs. I wrapped my hand around him and began to work him.
The angle was slightly awkward so I slid forward and Juno moved as well so he was almost positioned over me. He groaned as I tightened my grip and dropped his head onto my shoulder as I began to stroke.
"Ready," Stephen said.
He didn't wait for a reply. He lined himself up and pushed inside.
Juno screamed. It wasn't pain; it was the sound of a pressure valve blowing. He bucked back against Stephen, impaling himself, taking the full length of him in one desperate slide.
"Good," Stephen grunted, gripping Juno’s hips. "Take it."
Stephen began to move. It wasn't the slow, sensual rhythm he had used on me. It was hard, fast, and deep. He was fucking Juno with a rhythmic precision, snapping his hips forward with every thrust.
Juno was unraveling in my arms. He bit my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, while his hips slammed back against Stephen. I kept stroking him, matching the rhythm of Stephen’s thrusts. The slick sound of skin slapping against skin filled the tiny cabin, mixing with the rain on the roof and Juno’s ragged moans and gasps.
"Harder," Juno demanded, his voice wrecked. "Stephen, break it. Break the fever."
Stephen complied. He picked up the pace, driving into Juno with ruthless efficiency. I watched Stephen’s face over Juno’s shoulder; eyes closed, jaw locked, lost in the primitive work of claiming his packmate.
"Rowan," Juno choked out. "Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."
I pumped my hand faster, feeling the tension coiling in him. The burnt sugar scent spiked, becoming almost acrid.
Suddenly, Stephen groaned, uncharacteristically loud.
"I'm close," Stephen warned, his voice strained. "Juno, I'm going to knot you. Going to…"
Juno threw his head back and howled.
I watched, fascinated and terrified, as Juno’s body seized. The internal pressure of the knot locking into place sent him over the edge.
He came.
It wasn't a normal release. It was a deluge. He shuddered violently, crying out my name, and hot fluid erupted over my hand, painting my stomach, running down his own thighs. It kept coming, wave after wave, an impossible amount of volume that spoke to the specific biological differences he had hidden for so long.
"God," I breathed, slick with him.
Juno slumped forward against me, panting, trapped by the knot inside him and the exhaustion of the release. He looked down at the mess between us, a lopsided, delirious grin cutting through his agony.
"Male Omega privilege," he wheezed, nuzzling my neck. "Volume button is stuck on max."
"It's everywhere," I whispered, wiping my hand on his hip.
"It's supposed to be," he murmured. "Scent marking. You smell like me now."
We lay there for ten minutes, locked together in a sweating, breathing tangle, waiting for Stephen’s knot to subside. Mateo watched us the whole time, pacing like a caged tiger, his erection straining against his own self-control.
Finally, Stephen let out a long breath. He pulled out slowly, a wet, suctioning sound that made my own core clench. A swell of fluids, Stephen’s come and Juno’s own slick, escaped, running down Juno’s legs.
Juno wobbled. I caught him.
"Not done," Juno gasped. "The wave... it's just the first one. Mateo."
"Here," Mateo rumbled.
He stepped into the light. He looked massive. Terrifying.
