Page 62 of Psycho Pack

Plague splays his palm over Whiskey's stomach and presses down roughly, earning a muffledwoofout of him.

"You're mine now," Plague growls, all detachment gone from his voice as he strokes them both together with his other hand. The sight of their cocks sliding against each other, slick with come, sends electricity straight through me. "Say it."

"Fuck you," Whiskey pants, but his hips buck up desperately into Plague's grip.

Plague twists his wrist again, making Whiskey's head fall back with a strangled moan. "Wrong answer." He stills his hand completely. "Beg for it."

I bite my lip hard to stifle a whimper as I work another finger inside myself, matching their rhythm. The stretch is electrifying as I watch Plague dominate the larger alpha. My other hand pinches and rolls my nipple, sending sparks throughout my body.

"Please," Whiskey finally groans, his massive frame trembling. "Please... I need..."

"Need what?" Plague's voice is pure silk wrapped around steel. "Be specific."

"Need to come," Whiskey gasps. His hands scrabble against the stone floor. "Please, I can't...fuck... I'm yours. Just let me fucking come."

"Good boy." Plague starts stroking them both again, faster now. The wet sounds of skin on skin echo off the cave walls, mixing with their harsh breathing and my own muffledwhimpers. "Your voice is much less grating when you're desperate and begging."

My core clenches around my fingers.

"Close?" Plague purrs, his hand moving faster on their cocks. Whiskey just nods frantically, beyond words. "Grovel."

"Why?" Whiskey chokes out. "For what?"

"Because you piss me off," Plague says flatly.

"Sorry," Whiskey growls. He lets out a strangled cry as Plague squeezes the fuck out of their cocks, crushing their knots together, his head falling back against the stone. "Just please…"

"Not good enough." Plague's hand stills completely, drawing a moan from Whiskey that makes my core clench. "You're sorry for being a reckless barbarian. For never listening. For questioning my judgment at every turn."

"Yes," Whiskey gasps. "Yes, fuck, I'm sorry..."

Plague leans down, his lips brushing Whiskey's ear. "And?"

"And I need you," Whiskey chokes out. His hips buck desperately, seeking friction. "Need..."

"Keep going." Plague's voice is sharper now. "A full confession, if you please."

My thighs tremble as I work another finger inside myself. Every broken sound that escapes Whiskey's lips sends electricity through my body.

"Your hands," Whiskey chokes out. He trembles as Plague's free hand trails down his belly. "I need you to let me fucking come. I know I don't deserve it. Just please..."

"You know you don't deserve it?" Plague growls.

"Yes," Whiskey groans. His hands clutch uselessly at the stone floor.

"Say it."

Whiskey's teeth grind together with a clack. "I don't deserve it," he grits out.

"Correct," Plague growls. "But since you asked so nicely..."

Then Plague's head snaps up, those pale blue eyes locking onto mine in the darkness. My breath catches in my throat, but I can't look away. His lips curve even as his hand keeps stroking them both.

"Seems all the noise you've been making has attracted some attention," Plague purrs, clear amusement bleeding into his clinical tone.

Whiskey lifts his head to stare at me in shock before groaning, his head falling back against the stone as his face burns in humiliation. "Oh what the fuck..." he growls, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Heat floods my cheeks as they stare at me, but I can't look away. My fingers are still buried inside myself, my core clenching around them. Part of me wants to run, but a bigger part wants to stay right here and watch.

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