“From behind. With a lot of hair pulling.”
She poked his face gently, finger dipping into one pronounced dimple.
Tessa turned, positioning in such a way that she was looking right at me.Fuck. Fuck. I wanted her so badly.
She lowered her upper body against the comforter, arms extending towards me, fingers already gripping the comforter in anticipation. Tray positioned behind her, teasing her opening with his cock, sliding it up and down her crack. Those eyes, those fucking sapphire eyes of hers, were glued to my face.
Though I wanted to look away, I didn’t. I studied every curve and line of her face. The moment my pack brother pushed inside, Tessa moaned. She kept her eyes wide open as she enjoyed being stretched for the third time. It was somehow the most intimate thing I'd ever experienced—watching her take another man while her eyes promised me everything.
Tray didn’t hold back.
He fucked her like a freight train, gathering her crow-dark hair in both hands and tugging. He only slowed as he began to knot, exploding inside of her and shuddering. When he stopped jerking, the throes of the orgasm fading, he carefully rolled them over onto the bed. They were side-by-side, Tessa’s ass pushing against Tray’s groin. He reached around her body, fingers dipping into her pussy.
“I want you to come while I’m locked inside you,” Tray growled. Tessa pressed her head against his chest, eyes closing as he began to build her towards another shattering climax. After she cried out, her body twitching, they stayed pressed together for too fucking long. I wanted to scream for them to hurry, but there wasn’t a single damn Alpha in the world that could control his knot.
Tessa.
In my head, I was flying through fluffy, impossibly soft clouds. My lower regions pulsed, little pangs of pleasure coursing through like each orgasm had created its own echo that kept bouncing off the walls of my womanhood.
Mating with my Alphas was almost a religious, out-of-body experience. There weren’t even words to describe it. If someone asked for me to, I’d stumble over my words. It was promising myself to them, and they to me, yet it was also complete and utter freedom.
When Tray pulled out of me, slick gushed from my body. I didn’t understand how I wasn’t completely dried up, exhausted, and ready to quit. I wasn’t tired. Not one bit. I just felt floaty, wonderful, and more awake than I’d ever been.
When Ryder moved towards me, it was as if everything else around us faded away. He was all I could see, the one interruption in the expanse of off-white cumulus formations.
“I’ve wanted to do this since Seattle," he murmured. “I wanted you, every part of you, from the minute I saw you in the crowd watching me sing. And then I smelled you. Then I kissed you.” He captured my mouth in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. Everything he’d felt since our fated meeting at that concert was poured from his mouth into mine.
He parted from me, turning to get a pillow from the head of the bed. He placed it atop Mac’s shins, who’d straightened and parted both legs. Ryder guided me to lay down, head resting on the pillow, nearly dry hair splaying out across the pale silk. I tilted my head and arched my back so I could gaze at Mac for a heartbeat. He offered me a soft, relaxed smile.
I relaxed again. Ryder’s golden amber eyes caught light, and I could almost see the memory he’d cherished for so long fossilized in his irises. It was me, reflecting there. A frozen moment of time.
He moved between my legs, firm handstrailing slowly up my thighs. His touch was almost worshipful, as if he couldn't quite believe this moment was real.
"I used to think I remembered everything about you. That I could draw you from memory," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But in real life you ruin all the imperfect creations I made in my head. As you slipped out of my reality, I felt fucking broken, Tessa.”
I reached up, cupping his face with both my hands. “I’m here, Ryder. I’m never slipping away again.”
Something shifted in his expression, aching desire replaced by exposed vulnerability. This wasn't just about claiming me. This was about completing something that had been broken inside him since the moment we met. He entered me slowly, more gently than the others. I gasped as he brushed the walls of my womanhood, my body so sensitive from three previous matings, yet somehow still craving more.
"Fuck, Tessa," he breathed, his forehead pressed against mine. "You feel like home."
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "You’re home, Ryder." I moved my arms outward, making angel wings against the comforter, looking for my other Alphas. Three hands found me in return, clutching my wrist, my hand, my forearm. “You all are home. Thank you for giving me a place to belong to again.”
Ryder barely moved.
He laid down against my body, his face burying against my hair. I felt his knot expand and lock. I felt the warmth of him spilling inside of me. It was like the final note of a song only destiny could compose.
Half an hour later, when reluctantly Ryder slipped out from the cradle of my pussy, my Alphas circled around me. I moved to kneel, waiting for the part that would seal our pack. My nerves jolted, wondering what it would feel like to be marked.
“You should mark us first,” Dixon said, voice carrying a note of reverence. “When we mark you, you might not have the energy.”
I swallowed at that, working the newly formed lump down my throat. “Okay,” I whispered, nodding. I moved to Ryder first, flipping the order of things. I tucked my face against the right of his neck, inhaling hisrich vanilla musk deeply. I didn’t know how hard I should bite. I wanted the mark to last. I parted my lips and sunk my teeth into Ryder, biting with a viciousness that surprised me. Ryder grunted, his hands slamming against my back as he was rocked by the violence of it. When I pulled away, a trickle of blood ran down my chin. Ryder’s neck bore an angry, welting impression of my teeth. I thought he’d be mad, but instead he grinned stupidly, like I’d just given him the best gift in the world.
Tray next. Those dimples on full display, skin smelling of cotton candy at a carnival. Mac third, his responsible mask back in place… until I pulled away with a fresh smear of blood on my chin and he moaned, notes of cognac wafting through the air around him. Dixon last. Dixon, who grabbed me up against his body and moaned as I sunk teeth into his tender flesh, making his bourbon scent intensify to a dizzying level.
When I was done, I felt ridiculously proud of myself. These marks would last. And when they began to fade, I’d once again do my worst upon their necks. Seconds later, the thrill of victory faded and was replaced with anxiousness. It was my turn to be marked.
Tray hopped off the bed, padding into the closet and reemerging seconds later with a small vibrator. It looked like a red flower, the center of the bud a bumpy tongue and the petals formed to encase my clit.
