His scent flares with unmistakable pleasure as his body jerks. Cum spills over my hand and body. I bite, teeth digging deep.
The taste of copper mixed with his scent fills my mouth.
Then, there he is, linked to me, soul to soul, in all his unexpected wonder. An instant later, I get a sense of Dan, a slightly more distant connection, filtered as it is through Nathan.
Nathan’s hand tightens on my cock as his pleasure spills over into me, pushing me over the brink. Ecstasy rebounds back and forth between us, slowly lowering to the point that reality dawns. We wear matching grins and cum streaks as we turn to the only unmarked, unconnected person remaining.
Our Johanna.
Chapter 42
Bites and Bonds
JOHANNA
For several fleeting moments, I can pretend I’m nineteen and dating my first-ever alpha. It’s just so easy to be with him. Years—rather, decades—fall away as his smell envelops me. The same light glows in his eyes. He touches me with the same gentleness and surprise that we’re in a bed together as he did way back then.
He always took time to care for me, ensuring both my head and body were with him in the moment. He watched for what touches and movements gave me pleasure. He had a reputation for fighting before I met him, justified, as he admitted both then and now, but his alpha rode him easy when we were together. We disagreed on various matters, most of which I don’t remember anymore and argued—loudly—on many occasions, but he never fought withme.
Except my body reminds me I’mnotnineteen anymore, and nowhere near as flexible. I can only hold certain positions for so long before my knees, back, or wrists protest; still, the things we can still do together outweigh the losses.
Though Dan may have a harder time getting me out of my head now than then; because the matter of bites lurks at the back of my thoughts. Never quite pushed aside even as I get his shirt off and have the joy of exploring his broad chest. Of brushing my hands over the fine dusting of silver hair on his pecs that matches his head. Finding that he’s still a little ticklish along the sides.
He gets my shirt and bra off, apart from a brief bobble, when some of my hair gets caught in a tangle of fabric and he has to pause. Though my body sags a bit in general, my nipples perk right up when he cups my breasts in his warm hands and rubs his thumbs over the furling buds.
It's at that point when other scents mix with ours. I knew Corin and Nathan watched. Decades of sharing Max’s heats with various alphas mostly inured me to having sex in front of others, but there’s an added zing knowing they’re there—that they’re watchingme,since the alphas in Max’s heats tended to focus on him—and catching glimpses of their intent faces out of the corners of my eyes.
The increase in their scents means something more to Dan than me. I smell it and assume they’re enjoying the sights. His nostrils flare, and the musk infusing his scent increases, tickling my nose.
“Do you want to watch as well as be watched?” he whispers in my ear as he pulls down my pants and underwear in one go.
I look, and there’s no doubt as to my answer. We rearrange ourselves so we can both stand witness to the beauty that is two dominants coming together with respect and need.
Still compelling and glorious in my eyes when Corin bites Nathan.
I didn’t see Nathan bite Dan, only the aftermath: Nathan’s lips stained with blood, drops tracing lines down Dan’s arms, and their matching stunned expressions.
This coming together appears far more natural, organic, and deliberate. Nathan’s head falls back as Corin mouths along his neck. Teeth flash. Corin bites. Then, pure joy fills Nathan’s face as he comes, his delight mirrored on Corin’s as he gasps and does likewise.
Tears trickle down their faces as they stay together, hands and bodies aligned, relaxing. Oh, their expressions: Nathan, still joyful, and Corin, full of awe.
“It’s beautiful.” They don’t hear me.
Dan leans down and puts his head against me, cheek to cheek, his damp with tears to match the other alphas. Turning, I find his gaze on them, an echo of Nathan’s joy on his face.
I kiss Dan, trying to sip some of that joy from his lips.
Within moments, we’re again prone on the bed, chest to chest, belly to belly. Only the thin fabric of his sweatpants separates his thick cock from my pussy. No lube will be needed, though Dan retrieves the second bottle in my bedside table, just in case.
His lips quirk to the side, and a devilish light glints in his eyes. “Do you still like to be licked and sucked and fingered?”
“Try and find out.”
With that implicit permission, he dives down and feasts. Fingers and tongue swirl around my clit and pussy until I’m arching, gasping for air, and pleading for release. For me this is probably the biggest difference between using toys and choosing how I pursue pleasure. Part of the pain and glory of sex with Dan—or Corin—is how they push me, play with my responses, surprise me, and help me surprise myself as each touch makes every mote of my body come alive.
Until my climax hits and I lose myself in a burst of pleasure.
When I return to myself, I’m on my back against the bed, sheets damp beneath me. Dan lies on his side next to me, stroking my face.
