Page 60 of Psycho Pack

"Is our sweet little omega curious about what two alphas can do in the dark?" Valek drawls, his accent thick with lingering intoxication.

I feel my face flush hot. "That's not—they wouldn't?—"

Valek's grin widens.

Now Ireallywant to know what's going on back there.

Wraith growls softly but loosens his grip, letting me slip free. The cold hits me immediately and I shiver, pulling their borrowed shirts tighter around me. Valek makes a disappointed sound as I stand, reaching for my ankle, but I step out of his grasp.

"Behave," I tell them both. Wraith just looks worried, while Valek's grin takes on a distinctly wicked edge.

"Always, my blood-haired goddess," he purrs.

I ignore him and pick my way carefully through the darkness, following the sounds deeper into the cave. The ceiling gets lower, forcing me to duck in places.

Another growl reaches my ears, followed by what definitely sounds like a moan. My heart starts racing.

Surely they aren't...

But Valek's words echo in my head. The air does smell different back here. Muskier, headier. Like the scent that filled my room during my heat.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I inch closer, drawn by the muffled sounds echoing off the cave walls. The scent grows stronger with each step. Heat pools low in my belly as memories of my time with the pack flood back.

Maybe I should turn around.

But my feet carry me forward until I can make out their shapes in the dim light filtering through from the main cavern.

My breath catches in my throat.

Whiskey is on his knees, his massive frame oddly vulnerable as Plague looms over him. One of Plague's hands is tangled in Whiskey's hair while the other covers his own mouth, muffling his sounds. Even in the darkness, I can see the way Whiskey's jaw stretches around Plague's knot, his throat working as he swallows, his fingers digging into the ground for purchase like he's trying not to fucking drown.

The raw need in Plague's usually cold eyes as he stares down at Whiskey makes my knees weak. His precise control is completely shattered, replaced by something primal and hungry. His hips twitch forward in desperate bucks as his knot pulses.

My thighs press together as I watch them, heat pooling low in my belly. I should feel guilty for spying, but I can't look away. Whiskey already painted a colorful picture for me, but seeing it is another matter entirely. I never imagined how the sight ofWhiskey on his knees, throat working as he swallows around Plague's knot, would affect me.

"Stay still," Plague breathes, his voice raw and wrecked as he rolls his hips against Whiskey's face. Nothing like his usual clinical tone. "Let me…"

Whiskey moans around him, the vibration echoing off the cave walls. His own cock stands rigid between his legs, leaking onto the stone floor. But he keeps his hands on Plague's thighs, holding him steady.

My mouth goes dry as I watch a trickle of come escape the corner of Whiskey's stretched mouth. My core throbs with need and I press my thighs tighter together, trying to relieve the growing ache.

Plague's head falls back against the stone, his usual perfect composure completely gone. His chest heaves with each ragged breath as his knot continues to pump load after load down Whiskey's throat.

He rolls his hips carefully, testing. Whiskey gags slightly but takes him deeper, his throat visibly working around Plague's length. The sight makes me bite my lip to stifle a whimper.

I can't tear my eyes away from them. My hand slips beneath Whiskey's shirt that hangs like a dress on me, trailing up my thigh. Every nerve ending feels electrified as I watch Plague praise Whiskey, his usually cold voice rough with need.

"Good boy. So perfect. So..."

The words dissolve into a groan that sends heat straight to my core. My fingers find slick heat as I slowly sit on the cave floor and touch myself, moving in slow circles. The way Whiskey's throat works as he swallows around Plague's knot, the way Plague's fingers card through his hair almost tenderly… it's so hot, I don't know what to do with myself.

I bite my lip to stay quiet as pleasure builds, not wanting to give myself away. But fuck, watching them together... seeing Plague completely lose control, seeing Whiskey so submissive...

My hips rock against my hand as I imagine what it would be like to be between them. A whimper escapes me as the hilt of Plague's cock pulses visibly, drawing a muffled moan from the larger alpha. My fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of Plague's shallow thrusts. The wet sounds of my own arousal mix with their muffled groans.

Time seems to stretch like honey as I watch them, lost in my own building pleasure. My free hand slides up under the layers of their shirts to palm my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple. Every broken sound that escapes them sends electricity through my body.

My fingers move in tight circles as I watch Plague's knot pulse in Whiskey's stretched mouth. Every time he swallows another surge of come, heat coils tighter in my core. The way Plague's fingers rake through Whiskey's hair, alternating between gentle praise and iron control, makes my thighs tremble.

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