Page 43 of Reckless: Chaos

Blood and bullets fade against the reality of this—the perfect heat of him, the way he pushes back to meet each thrust, his body begging for more even as pleased whimpers escape his throat. Theo’s hands slide over my sweat-slick back, his omega touch both grounding and inflammatory. His nails dig into my skin just enough to remind me who I belong to, even as I claim our beta. Three bodies, three designations, one pack—the way it should be.

“Harder,” he gasps, that carefully constructed beta control finally shattering. His scent shifts from its usual scholarly notes to something darker, headier—pure need and submission flooding my senses. “Make me feel it. Make me feel like yours.”

Something primitive snaps in my chest at his words, the alpha in me howling at his surrender. I grip his hips hard enough to bruise, repositioning him to take me deeper. The angle changes and he keens, inner walls clenching around me as I hit that perfect spot. My knot’s already starting to swell again, catching at his rim with each thrust, threatening to lock us together.

“Going to fill you up,” I growl against his neck, letting my teeth graze the sensitive skin where a mating bite would go. Where his is. His pulse races beneath my tongue, beta hormones spiking at the promise of being claimed. “Make you take every inch, every drop. Keep you tied to my knot until the sun rises. Want the whole pack to smell me on you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” he hisses, reaching back to fist his hand in my hair. The sharp pull sends electricity down my spine, making my cock throb inside him. All that beta composure is gone now, replaced by raw need.

“Give it to me.” His voice breaks as he pushes back, taking me impossibly deeper. My eyes lock onto my claiming bite on his neck—the scarred mark that declares him pack, mine, ours. The sight of it, permanent and proud against his pale skin, makes my alpha instincts surge. My tongue traces the raised flesh, tasting the concentrated beta essence there, feeling the way our pack bond pulses stronger with the contact.

Finn keens at the touch, his pack bond flaring bright and hot through our connection. Even claimed and marked as mine, each time we come together like this reinforces the bond, makes it deeper, stronger. His scent changes subtly—scholarly beta notes deepening into something richer, marked by my alpha musk, carrying traces of our whole pack.

Behind us, Theo’s omega scent thickens with approval. “Beautiful,” he purrs, hands sliding over our sweat-slick skin. His touch traces my bite mark on Finn’s neck, making us bothshudder as pack bonds resonate. “My claimed boys, still falling apart for each other after all this time.”

“Show him.” Theo’s command vibrates through our pack bonds, omega voice resonating at a frequency that makes both claimed alpha and beta tremble. “Show our beta exactly what he still does to you, even wearing your mark.”

I bare my teeth against my own claiming bite, feeling the way Finn’s inner walls clench at the contact. Each brush of my lips against the scar sends shockwaves through our bond. I increase my pace, drinking in his desperate sounds as I remind him exactly why he wears my mark. Each thrust drives him further into the sheets, his usual beta composure completely shattered beneath the onslaught of sensation and pack bonds.

My hands grip his hips harder, pulling him back onto my cock as my knot begins to swell. The sight of him like this—marked, claimed, and still begging for more—drives my alpha instincts wild. Every fiber of my being demands I remind him why he’s mine, why he wears my bite, why he chose to be claimed by a broken alpha.

“That’s it,” I growl, watching my knot catch and pull at his rim. “Take it. Take everything.”

“Please,” Finn gasps, all that analytical precision reduced to raw need. “Alpha...”

The title hits me like a drug, making me snap my hips harder. My knot’s growing faster this time, ready to lock us together again.

“Going to knot you so deep,” I promise, one hand sliding beneath him to grip his length. “Want to feel you come on my knot again.”

Theo moves behind us, his scent heavy with arousal. “Make him beg for it.”

I slow my thrusts to a torturous pace that has Finn writhing. “What do you need, beta? Tell me.”

“You know what I need,” he pants, trying to push back against me.

I grip his hips, holding him still. “Say it.”

“Your knot.” The words spill out desperate and raw. “Need you to fill me up. Need to feel you for days.”

Something primitive and possessive roars to life in my chest. I slam home, forcing my growing knot past that tight ring of muscle even as Finn cries out beneath me.

The pressure is exquisite as my knot locks us together, Finn’s body squeezing me like a vice. I work him with my hand in time with shallow thrusts, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through both of us.

“Perfect,” I praise against his neck, feeling him tremble. “So perfect for me. For us.”

Theo’s hands slide over my back, adding another layer of sensation. “Make him come,” he orders. “Want to watch you both fall apart.”

I twist my wrist just so, knowing exactly how to touch him after so many nights together. Finn’s breath hitches, his body clenching around my knot in a way that makes me see stars.

“That’s it,” I growl against my claiming mark, voice completely wrecked. Our pack bond pulses with each thrust, amplified by the contact with his scarred skin. “Come for me. Show your alpha how good I make you feel, how perfect you are wearing my mark.”

“Jinx,” he gasps, that carefully cultivated beta control splintering beneath the dual assault of physical pleasure and pack bond resonance. His scent spikes sharply—books and beta musk and the lingering trace of my claim all mixing together. “I’m going to?—”

“Do it.” My teeth find their home in the claiming bite, not breaking skin but pressing into the scarred flesh with possessive pressure. The contact sends shockwaves through our bond,making my knot pulse where it’s locked inside him. “Come on your alpha’s knot. Show everyone who you belong to, my perfect, claimed beta.”

He shatters completely, crying out my name as his release coats my hand. His inner walls clamp down rhythmically around my knot, milking me as pack bonds flare incandescent between us. The dual sensation of physical pleasure and spiritual connection triggers my own orgasm—harder, deeper than the first. I flood him with my seed, locked deep inside, reinforcing my claim in the most primal way possible.

Each pulse of my release makes my claiming bite throb in response, our connection so deep I can taste his pleasure on my tongue, feel his satisfaction humming through our bond. His body takes everything I give him, claimed and knotted and perfect.

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