Page 134 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

“Fuck,” I breathed against Derek’s lips, the single syllable loaded with all the wonder and desperation coursing through me.

Caleb hummed in approval, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. He devoured me with a hunger that was both exhilarating and humbling, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive me out of my mind with pleasure. His fingers joined the party, rolling my balls with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his actions.

Marcus was a solid presence behind me, his arms holding me tight against his chest, anchoring me as his brothers sent me flying into the stratosphere. Through our bond, I could feel his satisfaction as he watched me come undone, his possessiveness a warm blanket around my consciousness.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Marcus murmured in my ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my back. “Surrendering to us, letting us please you.”

I wanted to form a witty comeback, something about how they were the ones who seemed obsessed with my “average soldier,” but then Marcus reached for something beyond my line of sight, and all thoughts of banter fled my mind. I felt the cool touch of what could only be described as slick, luxurious oil with an intoxicating scent that seemed to wrap around my senses, pulling me under.

“What is that?” I gasped as Marcus’ fingers, now coated in the oil, circled my entrance with teasing precision.

“Supernatural scent oil,” he explained, his breath hot against my ear. “Made specifically for this—to ease any discomfort and enhance the pleasure.”

“Supernatural scent oil?” I repeated incredulously. “Of course there’s supernatural lube. Why wouldn’t there be? Is there anything in this world that doesn’t have a werewolf version? Supernatural toothpaste? Alpha-grade deodorant? Special shifter shampoo for extra-fluffy tails?”

Marcus’ chuckle vibrated against my back. “Focus, little mate.”

His finger pressed inside me, the intrusion so smooth it felt like a caress. The oil did its work well; it dulled any discomfort and amplified every stroke of pleasure until it was all I could do not to come apart at the seams.

“God, that’s—” I lost my train of thought as Marcus’ finger curled inside me, finding a spot that made stars burst behind my closed eyelids.

“Good?” he suggested, amusement coloring his voice as he repeated the motion, drawing another gasp from me.

“Unfair,” I managed, though the protest held no heat. “Three against one is—ah!—hardly sporting.”

Derek’s laugh was a low rumble against my lips. “You seemed to enjoy the odds earlier in the shower.”

He was right, of course. The memory of their faces pressed against the sauna glass, watching me touch myself, sent another wave of heat through me. Through our bond, I could feel their collective amusement at my half-hearted protest, mixed with a deep satisfaction that they could reduce me to this babbling, writhing mess.

Derek’s kisses trailed down my neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot where it met my shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin there. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he whispered against my skin, his breath hot and sending shivers down my spine.

Caleb’s mouth was relentless, his tongue swirling around the head of my cock before taking me deeper, sucking with a rhythm that matched Marcus’ fingers as they worked me open. First one, then two fingers scissored inside me, stretching and preparing me for what was to come.

The dual sensations of Caleb’s mouth on my cock and Marcus’ fingers inside me had me teetering on the edge of something monumental. The bond between us pulsed like a living thing, their hunger feeding mine in an endless cycle of escalation. Their emotions crashed against my consciousness—possessive, demanding, adoring—until I couldn’t tell where their desire ended and mine began. The feedback loop of pleasure had turned my body into a conduit for supernatural ecstasy, my nerve endings singing with sensations I’d never imagined possible before tonight. Each touch, each kiss, each claim seemed to unlock new depths of pleasure, as if my body had been waiting for them all along.

“Please,” I begged. I needed more touch, more kisses, more of everything—anything to chase away the ache that was building low in my belly.

Derek’s lips moved from my neck to my chest, his tongue circling one nipple, then the other until they were hard, sensitive peaks that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my groin with each flick of his tongue. “So responsive,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “So perfect for us.”

Marcus added a third finger alongside the first two, the stretch burning in the most delicious way. The scent of the oil—a heady mix of pine and something darker, something that whispered of ancient forests and untamed wilderness—filled my senses, adding another layer to the sensory overload that was threatening to consume me.

“I can’t—” I gasped, my hips bucking as Caleb took me impossibly deeper, his throat constricting around me in a way that had me seeing stars. “I’m going to?—”

“Let go,” Marcus commanded, his voice a silky order that brooked no argument. “Come for us, little mate.”

When the crest broke over me this time, it left me shattered in its wake. My release hit me like a freight train—hot and hard and endless into Caleb’s waiting mouth.

“Delicious, baby,” he praised with a devilish grin as he licked his lips clean of me, every flick of his tongue another shock wave through my already overstimulated body.

I lay there gasping for air, a glorious mess of twitching limbs and erratic breaths. My mind was a whirlpool of sensation, every nerve ending singing the Stone brothers’ names in a crescendo of pleasure. They had wrecked me so completely that I was half convinced I’d need a map and a compass to find my way back to myself. And if I wasn’t mistaken, through our bond, I could almost hear them taking a collective bow for their performance.

“Want a drink?” Marcus’ voice cut through the haze of my overstimulated brain.

“Yes, please,” I managed to nod, my voice as parched as a desert. Hydration seemed like a distant dream at this point, but one worth chasing.

Derek scooped me up before I could contemplate the mechanics of sitting up. His arms were like steel bands—comforting and impossibly sexy—as he cradled me against his chest. His mouth returned to my neck with the tenacity of a man on a mission, and honestly, if this was his idea of being stuck on repeat, who was I to complain?

“You’re like a vampire, but with less brooding and more muscles,” I quipped, tilting my head to give him better access despite my teasing. “Is my neck really that fascinating?”

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