Lorenzo moves closer, his hand sliding to the back of my neck and guiding me onto the nest of pillows where the blankets are still dry. He settles me against the mattress, and presses his mouth to my cheek, to my jaw, and to the spot beneath my ear where my pulse thunders.
“Watch them,” Lorenzo murmurs against my skin. His hand drifts down my chest, over my stomach, and cups me through my pants. The firm pressure pulls a groan from my throat that mingles with Oliver’s cries and the wet rhythm of his body rising and falling on Nicholas’ lap. “Look at our Omega. See how beautiful he is when he falls apart.”
Oliver’s orgasm hits him like a wave. His back arches, his cock pulsing unused against his belly, his mouth open in a scream that makes the walls vibrate. He clamps down on Nicholas, and the Alpha’s hips jerk upward, fingers digging into Oliver’s flesh but Nicholas holds steadfast. His knot hasn’t swollen yet. Oliver goes limp for a breathless three seconds, then his hips begin to chase the next wave, because one surge is not enough.
Lorenzo’s hand massages me through the fabric, matching the rhythm of Oliver’s hips as his mouth presses against my ear. “You’re so hard, gorgeous. Watching them does this to you.” His thumb slides along the underside of my cock through my pants, and my vision fogs at the edges. “Nicholas is going to knot our Omega, and you’re going to watch every second of it. Tell me how it makes you feel.”
“Fuck.” The word rips out of me. Oliver is riding Nicholas harder now, his second orgasm coiling in the tension of his thighs. Nicholas’ hands guide him, the muscles in his arms flexing with every roll of Oliver’s hips. “Lorenzo, I’m going to—”
“Come for me.” Lorenzo presses his hand harder. “Right here, in your pants, watching them.”
My orgasm detonates, buckling my spine against the pillows. I jerk up into Lorenzo’s palm, warmth flooding through the fabric as my cock pulses against wet cotton. Lorenzo’s mouth curves into a smile against my ear, his hand easing up a little, stroking me gently through the aftershocks.
“Good,” he murmurs. “That’s my gorgeous boy.”
His fingers find my waistband and flick the button open. He peels my ruined pants down my legs with surprising patience, knuckles trailing lightly across my thighs. Lorenzo pauses at my shirt, my previous hesitation somehow gone after everything that’s happened.
I nod slowly, Lorenzo removing my shirt. Then his mouth claims the center of my chest, the Beta never once lingering on my scar.
“Whenever you’re done, we stop. You say the word and everything stops.”
“Don’t stop.”
Something in Lorenzo’s expression makes my breath catch. He guides me up to sit, my back resting against his chest. His legs bracket mine; his still-clothed body warm against my bare skin. He reaches for the lube on the nightstand, slicks his fingers, and presses them between my cheeks, circling my entrance before the first finger pushes inside.
He opens me slowly and thoroughly. One finger becomes two, curling inside me, hunting for the spot that makes my cock twitch back to life against my stomach. His mouth trails kisses along my neck, lips warm beside the scar, nipping at the column of my throat while his fingers stretch me.
“Ready, gorgeous?” I tense a little and then relax, Lorenzo humming inches from the rough skin. “You’re right here, with us. Look at your Omega and your Alpha. You’re ours, Wilson.Ours.” His purr vibrates through my back as he asks again. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He lifts me. The shift in position is effortless, Lorenzo’s strength concentrated in his arms and core as he settles me into his lap, my back pressed against his chest. The sound of a zipper meets my ears before the head of his cock presses at my entrance and I sink down onto him, one long slide that fills me completely. His arms wrap around my chest, holding me flush against him, his chin hooking over my shoulder.
“Watch,” he breathes in my ear.
Oliver is close again. His body trembling on Nicholas’ lap, his thighs shaking, moans dissolving into incoherent sounds that pitch higher with each thrust.
Lorenzo begins to move inside me with long, deep strokes that press his cock against every nerve ending. My hands clamp down on his forearms where they lock over my chest. Oliver screams and comes for another time, his body seizing as his nails carve bloody crescents into Nicholas’s chest. This time Nicholas doesn’t hold back. His hips snap up, his knot swelling until it locks inside Oliver, stretching the Omega’s rim until Oliver’s eyes roll back and his mouth goes slack.
The sound tearing from Nicholas’s throat rips through me.
My entire body goes ice-cold and then sears with heat. I know that sound. I’ve heard it exactly once before, years ago, in a bedroom smelling of cold metal and smoke.
Sebastian had gone out. It was one of the rare nights Nicholas and I were alone—Sebastian’s schedule had conflicted with our arrangement—and Nicholas was inside me, his knot swelling for the first time, his face buried in my neck. The sound he made shook through his whole body and into mine, stirring something deep and biological that recognized it long before my mind could catch up.
I looked it up afterward. I spent hours on my phone in the bathroom with the door locked, scrolling through forums andmedical texts and pack dynamics research. The sound has a name. A claiming roar.
The involuntary vocalization an Alpha produces when their body recognizes a mate. It can’t be faked. It can’t be forced. It erupts from somewhere primal when an Alpha is with the person their biology has chosen.
Nicholas made that sound with me. And now he’s making it with Oliver.
Lorenzo thrusts up into me and the orgasm crashes through my body so hard that my vision fractures. I clench around him, my back arching against his chest, and Lorenzo comes inside me with a groan pressed into the crook of my neck. The warmth of him filling me pulls a sound from my throat that I can’t categorize, something between a moan and a sob.
Lorenzo’s arms hold me against his chest as my mind tries to catch up. My gaze falls to Oliver collapsed over Nicholas’ chest, his face slack with satisfaction, his body still twitching around the knot locking them together. His eyes are glazed, his smile loose and dazed.
“That’s so much better than the toy,” Oliver muses, his voice wrecked, barely audible, muffled against Nicholas’s collarbone.
Nicholas laughs as he turns his head and presses his mouth to Oliver’s cheek, his teeth grazing the skin in a gentle nip that makes Oliver purr. My thighs tremble as I lift myself off Lorenzo’s cock, the room swaying when I stand. Lorenzo’s hand catches my hip, steadying me.
