Page 36 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"No," she says quickly, breathlessly. "Perfect. Keep going."

There's no way this isn't too much.

But I push deeper, inch by inch, until I'm almost halfway seated inside her. Not fully, not even to the top of my knot. That would be impossible. Not without hours of careful preparation.

My hand finds her hip again, gripping tight enough to leave marks, I'm sure. But I need to hold onto her or she'll lose her footing and slip.

Thane moves closer, positioning himself at her front. I feel the moment he pushes inside her, her body tensing instinctively and then melts between us.

"Holy shit," she gasps, her voice breaking.

G-O-O-D? I write on her back, the letters shaky with the effort of holding still so I don't tear her.

"So good," she moans. "Move. Please, both of you, move."

We start slow. Careful. Finding a rhythm that works with the cramped space and the tile under our feet.

Thane pulls out as I push in, alternating, filling her completely in turns. I'm clumsy as fuck, I've never done anything like this, but she's squirming and making desperate sounds anyway, clawing at Thane's body as he supports her in his arms.

My long tongue finds the curve of her neck before I can second guess it, driven by the same instinct that's getting lost in the rest of this. I trace the line of her pulse, tasting water and honeysuckle and the salt of her sweat. She shivers, her inner walls clenching around me.

"Your tongue," she gasps. "Fuck, Wraith, your tongue⁠—"

This unhinged omega likes it?

I lick up the column of her throat, over her jaw, finding the shell of her ear. Trace the delicate curves while Thane fucks into her from the front, his body caging her against mine.

"I'm not gonna last," Thane groans, his voice strained. "Too tight—not even enough room for both our⁠—"

I growl at him.

Don't need words to get my meaning across.

Do something about it, then.

"Fuck off," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. Just that familiar banter that's kept us sane through seasons of hell. "You try lasting when⁠—"

He cuts off with a groan as Ivy clenches around us.

"Both of you shut up," she gasps, laughing breathlessly even as her body trembles between us. "And make me come."

Thane huffs a strangled laugh. "Yes, ma'am."

I feel Thane's cock slip out of her just enough to hold off, his body quaking against Ivy's as my hand moves to her clit, finding the swollen bundle of nerves and circling it.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but my clumsy, rough movements make her pant and cry out anyway, her feet scrambling against my legs for purchase because my brother and I are supporting her easily between us, his hands on her waist and mine slipped between her clenching thighs.

"Oh, gods!" she screams, her slick leaking over my palm, and the sound of her cries pushes me over the edge.

I come with a snarl that's more animal than human, a snarl I can't swallow, my hips jerking as I spill inside her. Can't knot her like this, not even close, but fuck if it doesn't feel incredible anyway.

Thane follows seconds later with a broken, strained growl. "Ivy, fuck, Ivy⁠—"

She shatters between us, nails scrabbling against Thane's chest, drawing lines of blood, the coppery scent mingling with her honey, her back arching against me as she rides it out.

Even without knotting her, we stay locked together when we finish, panting, the hot water still running over all of us. My forehead drops to the top of her head, breathing her in.

Honeysuckle and sex and safety.