Page 64 of Donation Clinic

My hips itch to rock against his hand. I stifle the impulse. Stay still and quiet so we don’t get caught. The round metal picnic table isn’t opaque. There’s nothing to hide that his hand is under my dress if someone walks by and looks. “No.” He needsto hurry up and let me come. Before we get banned from my favorite ice cream shop or arrested for lewd behavior.

Gabriel and Matthew watch with amusement while they trade ice creams and Liam fingers me underneath the picnic table. There are people oblivious to what we’re doing fifty feet away. But they won’t be for long if I don’t stop moaning. I bite my lower lip to stifle the unruly sounds he finger fucks out of me. I can’t help it. He knows exactly how to touch me. How to work me up. How to make me come. And how to keep me on that edge, balanced without toppling over. Edging me.

“Liam,” I whine, trying so hard to be good. To be still and quiet. The need to come is unbearable. My fears of getting caught are gone. I don’t care who sees so long as he doesn’t stop. If he stops, I might die.

“That’s a good girl making all that sweet slick for me,” he says, his voice low.

The pressure building in my pelvis tightens.Close. Nearly there. Stay quiet.

He rubs me faster, making firm circles around my clit. Working quickly. Dipping his fingers down to curl them inside me. My soaked pussy makes sloppy wet sounds.

“Say please,” he orders.

My obedience is instantaneous. I would get on all fours with my ass in the air right now and let him mount me if he told me to. “Please.” The word comes out breathy. A slutty word moaned with desire.

He stops fingering my hole and focuses on my clit again. I’m so close.

My toes curl in my sandals and my thighs tense with the restrained urge to fuck myself on his hand. I can’t. We’ll get caught. People murmur, their conversations faint background noise as they move about. Talking and laughing. Car doorsopen and shut as more park. Oblivious to what Liam’s doing underneath my skirt around the corner.

“Are you gonna be good for your alpha and come?” he asks.

I nod. A whimper escapes me, and everything pulls tight. There’s a second of nothing. Of sheer torture. The calm before the storm. And then an orgasm rips through me. My cunt pulses against his hand, spasming on nothing. Empty and hungry for more. Always needy.

My hand tightens and the waffle cone crunches while I ride through the waves of aftershock. Cold ice cream smears down my hand, drips down my arm. The cone breaks completely, my ice cream dropping onto the picnic table. It’s nothing compared to the small river of slick coating his hand and my inner thighs. Soaking into the back of my dress. Dripping onto the bench.

I abandon my ruined waffle cone and curl my fingers through the metal lattice table while I ride his hand and the aftershocks of my orgasm, oblivious to our surroundings. All I care about are the pulses and tingles rippling through me. About my alpha’s hand wedged between my thighs and the pleasure he gives me.

Once I’m settled and panting, Liam pulls his hand free, scooping up as much slick as he can. He shoves his fingers past his lips and hums around his mouthful. “So sweet.” He purrs while he licks himself clean.

I press my knees together and fidget in damp panties on my seat. By the time my breathing is back under control, Matthew has my spilled ice cream cleaned up.

“Damn. I really wanted that,” I say.

“I’ll get you another one,” Gabriel says, getting out of his seat.

“In a cup,” Matthew suggests.

“Are you happy now?” I ask Liam. Grumpy now over my ruined ice cream.

Liam grins. “I’m not sorry that cookies are my favorite dessert. Wait until you try Matthew’s Christmas cookies. It’s a family recipe. They’re almost as good as your pussy.”

I mull overhis comment the entire car ride home while I eat my ice cream in thoughtful silence. The pub is busy, and I say hi to the regulars who’ve come to know me. Liam pauses to answer someone’s question while we head upstairs. I clean up and change into fresh underwear. I go through them at an alarming rate around these men. Matthew pulls out his laptop to check his emails while Gabriel changes into his workout clothes.

“Going to the gym?” I ask him.

“I’m gonna get a run in before dinner. Work off that ice cream.” Gabriel leans over me on the couch and kisses me, then Matthew. He grabs his earbuds and heads out.

I drag a knitted throw over my legs and get cozy, then turn the TV on and flip channels, but nothing catches my attention. I’m still stuck on what Liam said.

Christmas…It’s only August. But December isn’t that far away now. Only a few months. The baby’s due mid-January. It hits me that this is my last Christmas before my life completely changes. Before all of ours do.

“What are we doing for Christmas?” I ask Matthew. With my old pack, we rotated whose family we spent the holidays with.

“Hmm? Oh. We usually rent a big ski chalet up in the mountains. Everyone comes, although Gabriel’s family don’t fly in from Brazil every single year. They’re saving their airfare forafter the baby’s born. What about you? What does your family do?”

I turn down the volume on the TV while a home improvement show plays in the background. “They’d probably like a ski chalet, although I don’t think they’d actually want to go skiing. We always did a small dinner the night before, then presents in the morning, then a big family dinner with the rest of the family. Josh’s parents live next door to my parents so I got to see them half the time when the pack wasn’t visiting the other families.”

Matthew looks up from his typing. “Josh was your old alpha?”

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