Ash whimpered in answer. His eyes were closed even as he moved against Spencer. He’d been pretty far gone this time around, talking mostly in the form of brief commands or grunts or weirdly hot omega growls.
Spencer reached down between Ash’s legs with careful fingers. It was slick and slippery, and there was no Ryder knot to be found.
Well, then. Duty called.
Spencer grabbed a condom from the pile and lifted Ash’s leg up and over his hip. He may have been drained—he didn’t know how many hours it had been, or how many knots he’d given Ash already, even with Ryder taking his turns—but his cock was already hard and ready, an alpha reacting to his omega’s needs.
It was easy to slip inside, and heaven once he got there. Ash was so warm and so fucking wet Spencer could hardly take it.He rocked slowly, and Ash sighed in relief, nuzzling at Spencer’s neck.
He could be sweet when he wasn’t vicious as all hell. Spencer wondered if Ash knew what a wet dream he was during heat, or if he even cared. He didn’t seem to give much of a fuck about anyone but his chosen people.
And he’d chosen Spencer. That was what Ryder had said, right? That the two of them wanted Spencer, even outside of heats. That he wasn’t the only one imagining this connection between them, the way they took better care of him than anyone had ever tried to before.
Spencer couldn’t figure out how he felt about that, panic or hope or something in between. It was all mixed up with the rage and betrayal he’d seen on Noah’s face as they’d left the party. And who could blame him? Noah had been blindsided completely, worried about his brother and confused about Spencer, and it was all Spencer’s fault for keeping secrets.
Ash’s soft whine of distress brought Spencer out of his thoughts.
Shit. No freak-outs—that was what Ryder had told him. Spencer needed to keep his pheromones steady and comforting.
He focused back on Ash, the feel of him and the sweetness. He focused on breathing in that marshmallow scent as he moved inside him. Breathing in all of them, really. Their scents were inextricably tangled now, cedar and spice and smoky sugar. The mix made his cock throb.
Ash whimpered again, and Ryder stirred, his voice a low rumble. “Ash?” Ash let out a low whine, and Ryder rose onto one arm, taking stock. “You need more?”
Ash grunted in affirmation, and Ryder shifted again, followed by the sound of foil tearing. There was nothing for a moment, then Ryder’s leg slinging over Spencer’s thigh, and then?—
Spencer froze. That was a cock nudging his, pressing in against Ash’s entrance.
Ash growled at the pause, and Ryder set a placating hand on his side, his fingers just brushing against Spencer’s belly. “Spencer just needs to stop for a moment. You want both of us, right?”
Ash grunted again. He set blunt teeth against Spencer’s collarbone, but he didn’t bite down. He just licked at the skin in his hold. A warning, maybe, not to stop for too long.
But Spencer couldn’t move—he could barely fucking breathe. Because there was Ryder pushing in, his hot cock sliding against Spencer’s, making Ash’s slick channel an unbelievably tight fit. It was like Spencer was already knotting, except it was his whole dick getting the pressure.
Slowly—so fucking slowly—Ryder bottomed out, and the air filled with the sound of all three of them panting.
And then Ryder moved.
“Fuck,” Spencer groaned.
Ash released his threatening hold on Spencer’s skin, and Spencer tried to make out his features in the gloom. Ash’s mouth was slack now, his brow relaxed. He looked … happy.
“You like this, spitfire?”
Ash let out a long moan, and Ryder chuckled. “Move your hips, pretty boy.”
Spencer didn’t know how Ryder had it in him to laugh. Spencer could barely think whole thoughts with the hot glide of Ryder’s cock against his shaft. But then again, who the fuck needed to think?
It took them a minute to find a rhythm, and when they did, it was?—
Well, it was fucking perfect, wasn’t it? Spencer had had a lot of sex in his day, but he’d never hadthis, their three sweaty bodies tangled together, each of them barely aware ofwhose limbs were whose. Ash so lost in it all he looked fucking transcendent, little broken moans leaving his lips without pause.
Spencer thought it might be something like experiencing a rut with someone special, this synchronicity, this pleasure too big to hold inside.
Because this was Ryder and Ash and Spencer together, and somehow it just … worked. Spencer didn’t feel like a heat tool anymore—he probably hadn’t for a long time, if he was being honest with himself. He felt like a piece of some bigger puzzle. An important piece, even. He wished for the millionth time that they didn’t have condoms, wished Ash was on birth control so he could feel every inch of both of them. He’d like it so much. Spencer knew he would.
“Warn me before you knot,” Ryder growled. “I’ll pull out.”
Right. Because two knots would be one knot too many. Like, how would it even work? Maybe they’d both only half inflate, and their knots would rub together, and Ash would be clenching around them, so tight and wet and searing hot, and?—
