Page 56 of Hangman's Knot
They keep thrusting, Luke's hips becoming wilder as he begins to use her in truth. Julius' cock slips down her throat as her whole body becomes lax and compliant for them.
She doesn't know who cums first, but then each of them set the others off like dominos. Julius' seed spills down the back of her throat as she feels warmth filling her in her ass, and she's not entirely sure she likes the sensation.
"Fuck, quick, pull out," Tenor grunts. "I'm going to knot her. Sorry baby, I didn't mean to–"
As Luke pulls out of her ass, she winces. Where his warmth was now feels vulnerable, a small memory teasing her in the back of her mind of the devastation of her body after their rut.
They sense of nervousness and crush her between them, but when Tenor's knot expands, all the empty spots inside of her fill again, and she collapses into them, letting them soothe her with purrs and soft touches.
"That's our girl," Luke purrs, and she cannot help melting against him.
Minutes pass and Eden is still a boneless heap.
"Okay," she croaks out, her eyes still closed. "I might be sore now."
Chapter Twenty
Tenor
???
They put an offer on a cottage sight unseen that is the furthest thing from civilization that they can find on the market upstate. It's in the middle of a forest with only one room that makes up the bedroom, living room, and kitchen, and a small walled up corner with a bathroom in it.
He thinks it's a shithole that doesn't even deserve Eden's consideration, but the minute she sees the photos, her lips tremble and happiness and relief flood the bond.
She deserved better, and they would give her better one day, he told himself, but every instinct they had demanded they hide her as far off the grid as they could get her.
Eden was melting down, barely held together by the three of them keeping her in a mating high. They didn't know how to help her. Didn't even know who the four of them were individually, let alone know who they were as a mated pack of four. Not on the outside, at least. On the inside it had been simpler. Keep her safe. Keep her fed. Keep her comfortable.
She seemed to be settling a bit at least since they told her they were moving in to the cottage. Whether it was because she washappy about the place or she was just cum drunk from the amount they were filling her with on an hourly basis to the point that it was constantly dribbling out of her into a little river on the sheets, he didn't know. She'd stopped rejecting her nest, though. That was progress at least.
And then there were the baths. There were endless baths. Julius went googling one day, and the next morning a box the size of their omega was on the doorstep filled with "bath bombs." The three of them knew about how to diffuse bombs, make bombs, how to slip a bomb into a car's engine so it would detonate at the right time. They didn't know shit about bath bombs, though.
But apparently it was the right thing for their omega. Since then, it had been hard to keep her out of the tub, and wherever she went, they followed. It seemed like the zesty sweet scents of grapefruit oil, bergamot, and rose were permanently embedded in his skin.
But who was he to complain? All his life had been for the past decade was sand and blood and fists and prison walls. And now it was all sudsy water and sweet smells and omega purrs.
Then there was the way she sang under her breath while she tidied the place. They had been jarheads their whole adult lives, and they certainly knew how to keep a clean bunk. But Eden seemed to have her own ideas about where everything ought to go or how things ought to be arranged, and watching her neatly fold things and tuck them away settled something inside of him.
Or there was the way she cooked for them. It was simple shit at first, eggs and bacon for breakfast or a cobb salad for lunch. And then she started expanding her skillset, shyly asking them if they could pick up arborio rice or leeks or bok choi.
If a dish didn't go the way she wanted it to, she would blush and explain that she hadn't been able to afford fresh vegetables or meat before, and it was her first time trying the recipe.
???
The first time they see the cottage, she's pressed into Julius' side like she's trying to climb into his armpit, the same way she had tried to tuck herself against them in the prison. It's a half hour drive past the last house they saw and the gravel road was littered with massive potholes everywhere.
Everything around the little gingerbread-trimmed A-frame house was lush green with a blanket of white from the recent snow. There was a big porch out front and he can picture a little swing there and some chairs.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He could think of a lot worse things than sitting out on a summer evening with Eden in his lap, no one around for miles to see him slip his cock into her.
There was a musty smell inside. Clearly the only thing that'd been living in it recently is a raccoon. The stove looks like it's from about 1890 and the bathroom is worse than the facilities in prison, if that can even be said.
But Eden is grinning from ear to ear as she scopes the place out. She'd brought a measuring tape, and he and Luke end up taking measurements of every inch of the place for her.
On the drive back to the hotel, he catches her sketching out plans. She blushes and covers them quickly when she catches him looking, but before she can fully obscure them, he sees glimpse of the big river stone fireplace with a sectional in front that all four of them could comfortably fit on. A pack bed tucked against a wall of windows. A bathroom that looks remarkably similar to the one in the hotel with a central tub.
When they get back to the hotel, he immediately strips her and takes her to the nest. She doesn't fight him this time and he purrs for her. Progress.
