Oh shit.
“Now,” Spencer whispered frantically as heat surged through his belly, curling around and zipping up his spine. “Fuck.Now.”
And it was a good thing Ryder moved fast because Spencer was already shaking, his knot swelling inside Ash’s channel as he emptied into the condom. His knot grew almost alarmingly fast with Ash already stretched and ready for it. Spencer’s blood rushed from his head with abandon, and the world spun around him.
And then of course there was that heavenly fucking squeeze, Ash’s channel greedily sucking him in.
Spencer was vaguely aware of the feel of hot cum against his stomach (“Perfect omega,” Spencer wanted to say, but he couldn’t feel his lips well enough to move them.) and the squelching sound of Ryder jerking off against Ash’s back. It wasall filthy and beautiful, and Spencer kind of wanted to cry, even as his eyes fell closed in exhaustion.
He tried to keep hold of his walls—those last barriers of crucial fucking self-awareness that kept him safe from hoping for too much—but they kept crumbling before he could fortify them, shattered by Ash and Ryder’s fierce fucking persistence.
But this wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be. It was some sort of heat-induced dream Spencer was about to wake up from.
Because how in the world was he really going to be allowed to keep this?
ASH
Ash moaned as cool water poured down his throat.
It was good. Soothing.
Where had it come from? One of his alphas, surely.
A thumb brushed against Ash’s lips as he swallowed. Warm and calloused. Ryder. Ash moaned again, shifting forward until his mouth met another mouth. Ash pushed his tongue in, greedy for a taste.
Marshmallow sweetness.Hismarshmallow sweetness. Ash rubbed his thighs together in delight. Ryder had been down there earlier, hadn’t he? Licking and sucking.
Wet. Everything was wet. Sweat and slick and alpha cum. Ash’s nest—his “perfect nest,” his alpha had said—was drenched with pheromones. Ash couldn’t turn his head any which way without cool cedar or hot spice or sweet char hitting him.
Perfect, perfect.
There was hardly any pain. As soon as Ash’s belly clenched, someone was there, pushing in, easing him with gentle thrusts. Or harder, if he demanded.
Good alphas.
Ash wanted to open his eyes and tell them so, but he was tired. So, so tired.
Ash broke the kiss and sank onto his back. There were voices around him, murmuring together.
“Is he coming out of it?”
“Not yet.”
No. Not yet.
Ash turned his head and sniffed at the blanket beneath him. Cedar and spice were mingled potently here, his two alphas intertwined. Had they been rutting together while he slept?
Ash let out a gush of slick at the thought. His soft cock filled, so fast and so relentlessly he whimpered.
“Shh. I’ve got you, spitfire.”
A hot mouth on Ash’s cock, sucking, easing the ache. Ash spread his legs, inviting more. Clever fingers entered him, at least three. Ash sighed as they shifted and stretched him. That was good. Maybe perfect.
Calloused fingers brushed Ash’s hair from his face. Ryder again.
Ash opened his mouth, and warm, solid flesh met his lips. Precum that smelled like rich, damp forest. Alpha cock.
Ash sucked, hungry for it. This was good. Who needed water? He was going to suck down his alpha’s cum, and then his other alpha would fill him up and?—
