Page 87 of Heat Clinic

It. Is. Enormous!

Oh. My. God.

The bed is twice the width of a king, and the canopy almost touches the high ceilings. It’s perfect. I jump into it through the opening and shove my face into the mattress, sniffing the awful factory smell that I can’t wait to replace. Sitting up, I glance at Sam, who’s giving me a goofy smile.

“Get naked,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows but tugs up the hem of his T-shirt without question or comment. His muscled torso flexes as he undresses. I shuck out of my clothes, throwing them in the huge nest to help us cover more ground faster, and then I flop down onto my back and rub all over the mattress. Sam sees what I’m doing and follows suit without prompting, diving onto the other end of the nest and rubbing and rolling all over as he works his scent into the fibers.

It won’t be enough. If it was a normal bed, then sure. But this mattress is orgy size. It would take us days to cover all of it and we don’t have days because it needs to be perfect for tonight, since this is the night Marcus claims Sam.

“Do we still have the laundry, or is it in the wash?” I ask.

“I think we still have it,” Sam says. “I’ll check.”

I stretch and rub, trying to work my scent into every square inch I can reach. Sam comes back and upends the laundry bag, dumping it all out onto the bed. Perfect. Tom did a yoga session yesterday on the terrace, so his workout clothes are extra scented. I find his gray sweats and sniff them, satisfied with how strong his buttery shortbread cookie scent is, and then I rub it all over the mattress until the notes begin to layer one on top of one another.

“Wanna fuck?” Sam asks as he takes one of Marcus’s undershirts and drags it over the curved upholstered sides that form the nest’s high lip. “That’ll help.”

It would, but while I want the scent of us embedded in the mattress, I don’t want it stained. “I’ve got a better idea. Lie back.”

Sam lies down and I hand him a pillow to rub against himself as I shimmy down his body and settle between his thighs. His cock is still in that in-between state of soft and hard and it fits all the way in my mouth as I envelop him to the base.

He groans, his cock twitching as it hardens on my tongue, and I lose some length as he fills my mouth. I suck, bobbing on his cock as he drops the pillow and reaches for another.

“I’m home!” Tom calls from downstairs. The front door slams shut.

“Upstairs!” Sam calls back. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s good.” He runs his fingers through my hair and pushes it back so he can see the way my cheeks hollow as I suck on his tip while my hand squeezes and pumps his shaft.

“Oh, it’s huge,” Tom says, walking closer. “I like it. Why is there laundry everywhere?”

“We’re making it smell like pack sohnnng—oh, God, baby, that’s soooo fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Salty, musky, creamsicle pre-cum fills my mouth as I take Sam’s cock into the back of my throat and swallow again like he’s been teaching me. I press my nose to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock and hold him there until the urge to breathe can’t be ignored. Sam’s hips thrust, trying to follow me as I pull back and lave his head with my tongue, lapping up every drop.

“Get in here, man,” Sam says between groans. “Fuck, baby. You’re so good at sucking cock.”

Clothes hit the floor and then the bed dips as Tom climbs on. He palms my sex, pulling my cheeks apart and prodding at my folds. He dips a finger in and adds another, fucking them into me as he tests how wet and ready I am. I pull off Sam’s cock and look behind me. “No fluids on the bed until we’ve got the waterproof mattress cover on it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tom says, being a smart ass.

Omegas may tend to be naturally submissive, but our nests are our territory and betas and alphas come in by our invitation. Here, in this sacred space, I am its queen.

His fingers never stop as he fucks them in and out of me while I go back to sucking Sam’s cock, working him exactly like he likes it. Quick pumps of his shaft. Lots of attention to his slit and the sensitive underside where his shaft meets the crown. I trace my tongue over the veins of his cock and take him to the back of my throat, swallowing him down until his breathing gets ragged and I’m starved for air.

His abdomen tenses and flexes. I palm the heavy weight of his sack and press a knuckle into the bulging underside. It pulses against my knuckle, his cock jumping in my mouth, and he cries out a warning as he shoots his first pump of seed into my belly. I swallow all of him down. After he’s spent, I lick him clean, purring with happiness.

I take the scented pillow from his weak grip and hand him another to nuzzle as he lies there, basking in the endorphins of his blowjob.

“I have an idea,” Tom says, slipping his fingers from my pussy. “Sam, turn around so she can straddle your face.”

Sam flips around, and Tom nudges us into position, my pussy hovering over Sam’s mouth as I look down at his body and Tom settles behind me. The nest is so big it accommodates us easily, and I’m so grateful we waited a month, no matter that it felt like an eternity, and did the renovations. It was worth the wait.

He bends me over Sam, and his searching tip finds my entrance, sinking in with a stretch and a sigh as he works his way in deep. “Lap at your Mistress, puppy.”

Sam nuzzles against my thigh, then tips his head back and slips his tongue through my folds. He licks through my labia, finds my clit, and rolls it in circles while Tom fucks me from behind, pushing me harder onto Sam’s mouth with each thrust.

Can Sam breathe?

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