Page 64 of Psycho Pack

"Shut… the fuck… up," Whiskey growls, but his hips buck desperately into Plague's grip.

"Such a proud alpha," Plague continues, sweeping his thumb over Whiskey's tip in a way that makes Whiskey buck greedily into his grasp. "So desperate to maintain control. But look how your body betrays you when our omega watches."

I press deeper, working another finger inside as I watch them. I have to lean back against the stone wall of the cave for support. My inner walls clench hard around the intrusion. Heat coils tighter in my belly with each stroke of Plague's hand, each grunt and growl Whiskey grits out.

"Close?" Plague purrs. "She's going to come just from watching you like this."

The only reason I haven't yet is because I'm trying not to. Trying to hold off. And I'm quickly losing that battle.

Plague's eyes dance in the faint light within the darkness. "Show him," he purrs. "Show him what you do to us."

I moan softly as my fingers find that perfect spot inside me and my hips surge forward off the stone in response.

Whiskey's eyes go wide as he watches me touch myself.

"Fuck," he chokes out.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Plague murmurs, his precise voice rough with need. His hand moves faster on their cocks. "Look how wet she is just from watching you beg me to let you come."

My core throbs at his words. I rock against my palm, grinding down as my ecstasy builds, my inner walls clenching and fluttering around my fingers. My back presses against the cave wall, the surface hard and cool against my feverish skin. I brace myself against it, riding the growing intensity building between my legs.

Whiskey lets out a sharp growl and bucks hard, but Plague's hand stills completely and squeezes tight around the bases of their knots, drawing a desperate groan from Whiskey. "Not yet," Plague scolds him. "Not until she comes first."

Heat floods through me at his words. My fingers move faster, curling harder to hit that spot that makes my thighs shake. I'm so close, hovering right on the edge as I watch Plague squeezing their cocks together in a commanding grip. The hilts of their cocks are reddened and throbbing, the flow cut off where Plague is gripping them just beneath the knots, and the sight is enough to drive me over the edge.

"Look at her," Plague commands Whiskey. "Watch what you do to our omega."

I cry out softly as my core pulses around my fingers, my legs going to jelly beneath me and threatening to give out.

"Come for her now," Plague purrs, releasing his grip on their cocks just enough.

Whiskey's head falls back with a strangled snarl through gritted teeth as he comes undone. His cock pulses in Plague's grip, painting both their chests with thick ropes of come. The sight makes my inner walls clench with aftershocks.

"Good boy," Plague breathes, still stroking them both through it. His own cock leaks as he watches Whiskey shudder beneath him, though he doesn't seem to have much left after Whiskey milked him dry.

"Fuck," Whiskey groans, his head falling back against the stone. His massive chest heaves with each ragged breath. "That was..."

"Indeed." Plague's lips curve into that infuriating half-smile. His pale blue eyes lock onto mine, calculating. Assessing. "Though perhaps we could try something different."

Whiskey's eyes snap open. "Different how?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas," Plague murmurs, his voice carrying an edge that sends electricity down my spine. His surgeon's fingers trail lower, making Whiskey's breath hitch as he caresses the inside of the other alpha's muscular thigh. "Nothing too...invasive,if that's what you're concerned about. But I'm sure our omega would enjoy the show."

Heat floods my cheeks at his words. The sharp edge to his tone only makes it more intense somehow. Like I'm part of some elaborate experiment.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?" Whiskey growls, but there's no real heat behind it. His honey-brown eyes dart to mine, darkening with a mixture of renewed embarrassment and lingering hunger.

"So you've mentioned." Plague's hand moves lower, drawing another strangled growl from the larger alpha. "Multiple times, in fact. And yet..."

His words trail off meaningfully. My core heats with renewed need as I imagine what "different" might entail.

"Fuck," Whiskey breathes, his face flushing darker. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Perhaps." Plague's grin takes on a predatory edge. "But what a way to go."

Chapter

Eleven

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