Page 67 of Puck Your Bunny

"You're ours." Wally groans, his hands gripping my thighs to pull my chest down flush against his own.

They move as one. Wally lifts his head from the pillows, finding my right shoulder. Kel leans forward, pressing his chest flat against my back to claim my left shoulder. Simon shifts his mouth to the curve above my left breast.

They sink their teeth into fresh skin at the same second.

The firm pressure of their bites triggers a massive flood of endorphins. The euphoric rush hits like a tidal wave. The orgasm rips through my body in hot, cascading shudders. I scream their names into the shed. My internal muscles clamp down in a crushing grip around their cocks.

The act of marking me shatters their control. Wally and Kel shout in unison. They drive forward one final time. The thick, swollen knots pop past my tight muscles, burying deep inside my pussy and my ass to lock our bodies together. Their cocks pulse, spilling huge, hot waves of release deep inside me.

Simon groans. The bite pushes him over the edge. His hips buck forward, painting the side of my hip and thigh with release at the same second.

The distinct scent of seabreeze washes over my senses, tying the amber, leather, and bergamot together into one unified aroma. A deep sense of peace settles in my chest. The completed bond solidifies without a single trace of doubt.

I collapse forward onto Wally's chest. Kel slumps against my back, wrapping his arms around my ribs to cage me in.

Wally shifts his weight. He guides us down onto the plush blankets, rolling our bodies as a single unit. I stay in the center. Wally and Kel settle on their sides, keeping their swollen knots locked deep inside me. Kel lets out a breath, taking the strain off his knees.

Simon stretches out behind Wally. He reaches his arm over Wally's side to rest his hand against my bare hip. We lie in a tangled pile of sweating, panting limbs in the quiet shed.

Turning my head, I rest my cheek against Wally's sternum. The new bite marks throb with a warm heat.

"You didn't bite over their marks." My voice a rough whisper. "Why?"

Wally runs his callused fingers through my sweat-damp hair. "Your past belongs to you." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "We refuse to erase it."

Kel shifts behind me. He rests his chin on my unbitten shoulder. "Hale, Emmett, and Brendan hold equal weight in this pack. We plan to honor that history."

Simon leans over. He presses his lips against the fresh bite mark on my ribs. He meets my eyes. "We want to grow your family. We stand beside the men you loved first to build this future together."

Tears sting my eyes. This feels impossible. I never thought I could feel like this again. "I love you all." The words leave my lips with a purr. Fear coils in my stomach. I think about losing them just like I lost my first Alphas. But they need to know.

Deep, rumbling purrs answer mine. They press closer against me. "I love you, too."Their voices blend together

Chapter 22

The arena air hits me like a freight train. Twenty thousand fans scream my name, a wall of noise that rattles my teeth. I step onto the ice for pre-game warm-ups, taking a hard lap and digging the edges of my blades into the fresh sheet.

Last night with Vayda still hums in my veins. The new bond, the skin-on-skin, the way she looks at us fuels my adrenaline. I woke up ready to run through a brick wall. I play left wing on the best line in the League. Tonight, we take the Alpha Cup.

Circling behind the net, I look toward the VIP level. Tinted glass reflects the overhead stadium lights, obscuring the suite. Vayda and Brendan sit up there, tucked away from the chaos on the ice in matching Reaper jerseys.

Vinny and Kristy pack into the box with them. Kristy is probably screaming her lungs out for her brother Henry on thesecond line. Knowing my family is watching provides all the focus I need for the next three periods.

The Heathstead Bears skate in circles on their half of the red line. My gut tightens. They turn every series into an absolute mess. They play a trap system full of interference, stick work, and cheap shots after the whistle. Their captain catches my eye near center ice. He flashes a missing-tooth grin, trying to get in my head early with a classic red line stare-down.

I skate right past the bait. I play a gritty, power-forward game, but I keep my cool. My job means staying on the ice and putting the puck in the net. Getting suspended before the puck even drops ruins our chances.

The horn blasts to end warm-ups. We clear the ice. The Zamboni makes a fresh cut, leaving behind a gleaming, flawless sheet. Ten minutes later, we line up for the opening draw.

The ref drops the puck at center ice. Wally wins the draw clean back to our point. The defenseman shoves it to me on the boards. I catch the pass on my tape, speed up, and put my head down through the neutral zone. A Bears defenseman tries to cut me off, leading with his shoulder. I drop my center of gravity and drive straight through his check. His air leaves his lungs in a rush as I bounce him off the boards. He crashes to the ice. The home crowd goes wild.

I skate past their open bench door. "Start packing your bags, boys. We're ending your garbage season tonight."

A Heathstead winger slams his stick against the top of the boards. "Keep your head up, Lars. We're taking your knees out."

I flash him a wicked grin. "Try it."

The Bears target Simon the second he touches the rubber. It's their standard game plan. They want to rattle his focus and take away his speed. They send their designated grinder to shadow him, hacking at his ankles every time the play moves near theright wing. I watch Simon take a cross-check to the lower back behind the net. The ref misses the call. I catch every detail.