Holden’s mouth pops off my length, long enough for him to answer.
“Paint me in your release. Please, Alphas. I want your fucking cum all over me. Paint me like one of your french girls.” He’s practically fucking whining right now, and I fight the need to roll my eyes because despite our power over him, he still manages to be one hundred percent Holden. Sarcastic, bratty, and fucking delicious.
I grunt as he’s ripped from me. Sasha forces the man to his knees and pushes his cock past his full lips and down his throat. That oughta shut him up.
“Make me cum. Show me how much you like being on your knees for us. Show me how much of a cum slut you are.”
Holden does just that, his mouth and throat working overtime to take everything that Sasha forces upon him. Saliva drips down his chin and onto his chest. The mess the pair is making only ramps up my need to fall over the edge.
Coming to stand beside Sasha, I grab Holden’s hand, wrapping it tightly around my cock. He begins to alternate between us, taking one of us in his mouth, squeezing our knot, while the other hand pulls us closer to the edge.
“Open up, Beta,” I grunt as the beginnings of my orgasm crest.
“Stick that pretty tongue out. Show us how hungry you are,” Sasha adds as he falls over the edge with me.
Wave after wave of cum covers Holden’s face, our pleasure landing in his mouth, eyes and hair.
He moans, his eyes slamming shut as his own orgasm rolls through his body, the moment enough to send him over the edge.
My eyes remain fixed on the ceiling as I struggle to catch my breath. No one has ever managed to pull that soul deep kind of reaction from me the way Holden does.
He matches my ferocity with submission.
Bends in the kind of way that has me seeing stars.
Sasha finally huffs, breaking the silence in the room.
“Threatening text messages won’t be enough.”
I shake my head, having already thought the exact same thing when we were standing outside her tiny apartment, conveniently another thing she inherited from her father.
“I want her terrified. I want her checking behind her back. I want her broken. I want her to bleed for her father’s sins.”
His accent becomes more noticeable the angrier he gets.
“Yey nuzhno zaplatit’.”
“You tell us what you want us to do and we will back you,” Holden says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The gesture is soft and instinctive, that softness of his as natural as breathing.
I wonder if she’d do the same.
I know she’s an Omega. I know, biologically, she’d be inclined to soothe. To comfort. To put her pack above herself. But I wonder what it would be like to have her hand on my shoulder, and know it’s because she wanted it there. Not because we told her to.
Because she chose us.
I wonder if she’d stay once she saw the cracks. If she’d look at the ugly parts and decide they weren’t enough to make her run. If she’d hold Sasha when the nightmares drag him under. I haven’t allowed myself to dwell on the moment each of us had when we first saw her. Reading the room, I knew it would have been a terrible idea to bring it up. But when her scent collided with ours in the locker room this afternoon, something changed. Something fundamental. And it’s been circling the back of my mind ever since, even if it’s the last thing I should be thinking about.
For one impossible second, I thought fate had finally stopped kicking us while we were down. I thought we found our missing piece. It felt like a bucket of ice water was tipped over my head the moment she was formally introduced to us.
Because once I learned her name, I knew she could never be ours.
Not in our current reality, and probably not in any other one, either.
The woman is the direct descendant of every single cause of Sasha’s trauma. Going off what I know of her, having heard of the Omega daughter of the Coach long before his passing and her inheriting the team, she has lived a life of luxury. A life so far removed from Sasha’s that they may as well have been raised on different planets. While she was growing up safe, Sasha was surviving. While she was loved, he was taught fear and hatred. None of it is her fault, I know that. Still, none of it changes a goddamn thing.
“I want her terrified. I want her shaking when she reaches for her phone in the morning. I want her to feel every single fucking feeling known to man and I want it to be because of us. I want her to fear being alone in that apartment. Fuck up her nest if we have to. I want to make her new coaching gig fucking impossible.”
I nod my head as Sasha continues.
