Page 145 of Pack Me Up
When I line up my cock, she’s already pushing back, desperate. I go slow, letting her feel it, letting myself enjoy the way she stretches, clamps, and shivers around me. The first breach is always the hardest, but she gasps, takes it, and starts to work me in with short, greedy little jerks of her hips.
Colton’s watching me now, over her shoulder. “Our omega has two alphas desperate to please her.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, “You’re so greedy taking both of these cocks.”
We sync up, him in front, me behind, her trapped between us and loving every filthy second. She cries, sobs, laughs, and screams. The scent of her heat and slick is thick in the air, making my mouth water for her and my teeth ache.
Colton holds her chin, making her look at him. “You’re so pretty when you’re stuffed like this. You know that?”
I fuck her slow, then hard, then slow again, dialing in to her rhythm, and matching every thrust to the clench of her muscles. The pressure is mind-blowing, her body squeezing both of us at once, like she’s built for this and only this. My knot starts to swell, and I know Colton’s is too.
“Ready for more?” Colton pants, hair stuck to his forehead.
She’s too gone to answer, but we can feel it in our bonds.
We push hard together, and the world goes red. I feel my knot pop inside her ass just as Colton locks into her cunt, both of us swelling, pulsing, knotting her open until she howls. Her body clamps down, milks us both, and we lose it, coming so hard it feels like getting hit by a truck.
Colton in front, me behind, with Brittney as the trembling hinge between us. Our knots are jammed tight, bodies fused at every slippery, gasping seam. It’s a bomb that never stops going off, cycling through our bond and back again. For a few heartbeats, there’s nothing but the dazed static in my head and her whimpers echoing in my chest.
Colton’s hand pets her hair with love.
“Trouble?” Colton whispers, nudging her face with his nose. “You still with us?”
She stirs, lips parting. Her voice is a rough whisper: “More.” Her eyes are glazed, pupils bottomless, skin blotchy with fever. She doesn’t even try to move, just stays slumped in Colton’s arms.
I can sense her hunger through the bond, but I know she won’t give in easily.
It clicks for me. The look on her face isn’t bliss; it’s burnout. Her heat has only paused for the knot, not ended. And she’s about to crash, hard, if we don’t do something fast.
I scan the room. Saint and Cody are at the edge of the nest, watching. Fox hovers in the doorway, fidgeting with a towel. His eyes meet mine, and I jerk my chin, asking for help.
Fox gets it. He bolts, returns with a bottle of water and a handful of protein bars, then kneels beside us, holding out the offerings like peace tokens to a very small, very needy god.
“Songbird, you gotta hydrate.” Fox’s voice is pure beta, all soothing with no challenge. “C’mon, Brittney, just a sip.”
She whines, turns her face away, jaw clamped shut. “Don’t want it,” she mumbles. “Just want cock. Want more.”
Colton grins, but it lacks humor. “You’ll get all you want, angel. But you gotta eat or you’ll faint, and then what will we do with you?”
She grumbles, eyes slitting open to glare at him.
It’s so on-brand I almost laugh, but Colton kisses her forehead and says, “You’ve got two knots in you right now. Don’t be greedy.”
Fox uncaps the water and presses it to her lips. “Try for me, songbird. Just a little.”
She resists, but Colton rubs her back, humming some nonsense song, and I run my hand over her hip, whispering, “Good girl, you can do it.” The words catch her attention, andshe latches onto the bottle, chugging half before she starts coughing. Fox pulls it away, lets her breathe, then goes again, a little slower.
When she’s done, she buries her face in Colton’s neck, making tiny sounds.
Colton strokes her hair, and I feel his knot twitch through the wall separating us. “See? You need to stay hydrated so you can take more cock and cum from us.”
Saint steps forward, towel in hand, and dabs the sweat from Brittney’s back. “You’re going to need food, too. Your blood sugar is too low.”
Brittney opens one eye, gives him the finger, then shudders as another mini-spasm wracks her from head to toe. She’s got nothing left, but her body is still trying to milk us for more.
I lean in, mouth to her ear, my voice barely a growl. “You want us to keep filling you, omega? You want to stay the perfect little hole for our cocks?”
She moans, legs kicking uselessly against the mass of pillows.
“Then you’re gonna do exactly what I tell you,” I say, letting the alpha bleed into my voice. “You’re gonna eat. You’re gonna drink. Or I pull out right now and leave you empty.”
