Page 65 of Stuck with my Pack
My throat is dry, my heartbeat wild. I grip the fabric tighter, pressing it to my face, inhaling Ethan’s scent as I try to steady myself. But I can’t. I don’t want to.
A deep, shuddering breath leaves my lips. I make my way out of my nest, the Alphas a lodestone. I’m half gone, fueled by instinct.
The house feels too big, too empty without them pressed against me, their warmth, their scent anchoring me. My body moves, driven by something deeper than thought, than reason. Each step is unsteady, my limbs heavy, trembling with the fever of my heat.
I clutch the banister as I make my way down, the air thick with their rich, intoxicating scent—smoky cedar, leather, crisp citrus, spicy amber—Alpha.
It draws me forward, guiding me to the kitchen where they stand, tense and waiting, their eyes locking onto me the second I appear. The easy conversation they were having, forgotten.
“Please,” I keen, voice rough, desperate. My knees buckle, and before I can fall, strong arms catch me, steady me, surround me. “I…need….” I let the words slip past my lips
“Brodie…Tyler…Ethan…”.
The moment their names leave my lips, the tension snaps. Heat flares in their eyes, their instincts taking over as they close in around me. My body is boneless in their arms, my mind hazy with need, my skin fevered and slick with sweat.
I don’t resist as Brodie scoops me up effortlessly, cradling me against his chest as if I’m something precious—something to be handled with care, even as the weight of his need vibrates through every muscle in his body.
Tyler and Ethan flank him, their gazes sharp and possessive, their bodies taut with restraint. They move in tandem, a unit, my Alphas. The air is thick with their scent—deep, rich, intoxicating—igniting something primal inside me that refuses to be ignored.
My nails dig into Brodie’s shoulders as I nuzzle my cheek against his, scent-marking him. I run my tongue down the side of his neck, tracing the skin I can reach, and gently bite where his neck meets his shoulder. My Omega screams to bite down, to claim.
Brodie tenses beneath me, his grip tightening just a little too hard. A deep, predatory growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against my own.
“None of that, sweetheart, unless you want me to pin you against the wall right here and fuck you until you can’t walk.”
I groan, my core clenching at the image, new slick pooling between my thighs.
I stop biting him—barely—but I don’t stop kissing him, trailing my lips along his throat, pressing against the pulse hammering beneath his skin. I cling to him as he carries me up the stairs, his grip unrelenting, his scent wrapping around me like a cocoon.
The moment we step into my room, my nest calls to me. The soft pile of blankets and pillows in the corner is waiting, perfect but empty.
My heat demands more—demands them. I don’t wait. The second Brodie lowers me onto the edge of the nest, I shift to my hands and knees, the movement instinctual, my body arching as a whimper escapes my throat.
“Fuck,” Tyler breathes, his voice rough, filled with something dark and hungry. His need is palpable as he starts to pull off his clothes.
My pupils are blown, my breath shallow as I reach for them, a silent plea in every movement. The nest is too empty without them. I need them close, need their warmth, their scent, their touch.
I grab Brodie’s hand and pull him down to me and into my nest. A look of pure sex is on his face. My fingers catch the hem of Brodie’s shirt, yanking it upward, desperate to feel him, to press my fevered skin against his.
He lets me strip him bare, his chest heaving, muscles tensed, his control fraying at the edges. I perfume as I crawl toward him. My body is buzzing with pleasure, knowing I put that look on his face.
“Oh, sweetheart, we can go slow,” he rasps, trying to be the voice of reason, though his hands are already on me, running up my thighs, gripping my hips, winding me up.
“Don’t care,” I whisper, tugging him closer, straddling his lap, pressing my body flush against his heat and hardness. The feeling of his bare skin against mine sends a violent shudder through me, and I whimper, rolling my hips against him.
I grind my slick, dampened core against his hot, hard length, chasing the friction I so desperately need.
Tyler is there in an instant, his hands tangling in my hair, fisting the heavy mass at the base of my neck, the gesture pure dominance as he tilts my face up toward him, claiming my lips in a bruising kiss that incinerates me.
His tongue runs along the seam of my lips before slipping inside, dancing with mine. I moan into his mouth, my other hand leaving Brodie to stroke up Tyler’s chest. His fingers tighten in my hair, holding me still as his tongue sweeps deeper, tasting, devouring. The groan that rumbles through him sends a shiver cascading down my spine.
Behind me, Ethan presses in, his broad frame solid and steady. His hands slide over my hips, gripping tight, taking control, slowing my movements on Brodie to a pace he sets.
It’s maddeningly slow, and I arch into the pressure, trying to increase the pace, but Ethan holds firm. His lips find the nape of my neck, and then—he bites.
It’s not enough to break the skin, but just enough to send a shock of sensation through me, sharp and claiming. The intensity of it unravels me completely, pleasure cresting, hovering at the edge before I even realize I’m almost falling.
He breathes me in, his scent marking me, claiming me in a way that makes my knees weak.
