Page 73 of Pack Me Up
He says, “You… you really wanted me?”
I can’t answer with words, not yet, so I send reassurance down the bond. I grab his cock, sticky and still hard, and slide it back into my mouth. He cries out, hips jerking, and it only takes three strokes before he’s coming on my tongue. I swallowit down, greedily, and keep sucking, wringing out every last drop while Fox keens.
Saint is patient through all of this, but the tension in his arms is a warning: he’s holding back, but not for much longer. I can feel the edge in him, the way his breath has gone shallow and harsh, the iron clamp of his fingers on my hips.
Saint doesn’t stop. He keeps pounding into me, relentless, his cock swelling at the base as his knot starts to form. I reach back, desperate for more, and he grabs my arms, pinning them behind my back in one massive hand. The angle is brutal and I come again, shaking apart on his cock while Fox’s bond floods my brain with light.
Fox collapses next to me, boneless and dazed, his hands still tangled in my hair. He kisses my shoulder, my temple, the back of my neck, each touch a promise.
Saint takes over. He fucks me like he’s staking a claim, every thrust measured and deliberate, the kind of violence that’s all about control. I know what he’s doing. He wants to make me come before he lets himself go. He wants to hear me beg.
So I do.
“Please,” I whisper, face buried in the mattress. “Saint, I need it. Please, please—”
He laughs and pulls me upright so my back is flush to his chest. One hand comes up to my throat, tilting my head back, the other clamps down on my belly. I can feel every line of his body, every inch of skin, every pulse of his cock inside me. He bites my earlobe, hard enough to sting.
“You want to be mine?” he growls.
“Yes. Yes—”
“You want me to ruin you?”
“Please. Please, Saint—”
He takes his time, rolling his hips, working his knot in and out just enough to keep me on the verge. My hands claw athis forearms, nails leaving red marks, but he doesn’t flinch. He squeezes my throat, not enough to cut off air, just enough to remind me who’s in charge.
Fox leans in, hands stroking up my thighs, massaging the welts left by the twins. His mouth finds my nipple, tongue gentle, and the contrast between his softness and Saint’s brute force pushes me over the edge. I come so hard I scream, the orgasm boiling up from my soul and then shattering through my whole body. My pussy clamps down on Saint’s cock, milking the knot, and that’s all it takes.
His knot is almost unbearable, the pressure so intense it’s like I’m being turned inside out, but I want it. I want him.
Saint bites.
He goes for my neck, the opposite side from Hunter’s mark, and sinks his teeth in with a force that’s pure savagery. I feel the skin tear, the heat and the pain, and then the wild, ecstatic rush of the bond. Saint comes at the same instant, his cock pulsing so much I feel every spasm in my spine, his arms locking around me like he’ll never let go.
For a second, the world dissolves to the roar of the bond as it crashes through me. Saint doesn’t let up. He grinds in, filling me so full I’m afraid I’ll split in two, his mouth locked on my neck, drinking in the scent of his own claim.
Fox holds me from the front, stroking my cheek, murmuring nonsense words. “Good girl. Perfect. You’re so good. You did it, songbird, you did it—”
Saint’s knot throbs, swelling even bigger, and I know I’ll be stuck like this for hours. I don’t care. I want it. I want to be locked to him forever. I want to wear his bite like a trophy.
But the omega in me is not done.
When Saint’s teeth release from my flesh, I twist in his grip, even though I’m still stuck on his knot. I bare my own teeth andlunge for his neck, biting down just above the collarbone. He jerks, surprised, and then his whole body goes stiff.
The bond slams into us. Saint howls, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my mouth. I bite harder, feeling the blood pool under my tongue, and then let go, licking the mark for good measure. Saint’s arms crush me tighter, his head thrown back in wild, feral triumph.
I feel it, all of it, all at once: the connection to Hunter, bright and wild, the twins’ double helix of hunger and pride, the steady warmth of Fox’s devotion, and now the iron shield of Saint’s protection. They’re all inside me, their thoughts and love and rage and fear and hope swirling together like a living, breathing thing. I’m the center of it, the axis, the omega that holds the pack together.
I sob, not from pain but from relief, from the insane, perfect completeness of it all. My body is shaking, my head spinning, but the bonds keep me upright, keep me whole.
Saint finally lets go of my arms, and I use the last of my strength to pull Fox’s face to mine. I kiss him, deep and slow, tasting tears and blood and the newness of our bond. He melts into me, every muscle gone loose.
The rest of the pack piles in, a tangle of arms and legs, each of them desperate to touch me and anchor themselves to our new reality. Colton and Cody’s hands are running up and down my back, their mouths finding the fresh bite marks on my wrists. Hunter wedges himself in under my knees, kissing the bruises on my thighs, his eyes bright with awe.
Fox’s face is wet with tears. He kisses me, gentle and unhurried, and then he laughs, head thrown back, the sound pure joy.
Saint’s breath is hot on my neck. He nuzzles the back of my head, purring so loud the whole nest vibrates. I reach back for him, fingers tangling in his hair, and for a long moment, theworld is nothing but the five of us, locked together in the only place that’s ever felt safe.
