Page 77 of Psycho Pack

Whiskey roars, his hips surging upward as his knot swells. I press forward at the same moment, feeling my own knot expand. For a heart-stopping second, I think it won't work. That we've miscalculated, that we've locked ourselves out of her. Or worse, hurt her.

Then Ivy screams into Whiskey's chest, her body going rigid between us, and both our knots pop past her stretched entrancessimultaneously. The tight heat engulfs us completely as we lock in place, pumping load after load into her trembling body.

Stars explode behind my eyes and I collapse forward, crushing Ivy between Whiskey and myself as aftershocks wrack my frame. Distantly, I hear Whiskey's guttural groans mixing with Ivy's breathless whimpers.

We lay there, a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, as our knots continue to pulse. I can feel every twitch of Whiskey's cock through Ivy's inner walls, can sense the rapid flutter of her pulse where we're joined.

"Fuck," Whiskey pants, his strong body heaving beneath Ivy. "That was..."

"Indeed," I murmur, struggling to catch my breath.

My mind reels, trying to process the intensity of what we've just experienced. The exquisite tightness of Ivy's body, the way she came undone between us, the sounds she made...

It was beyond anything I could have imagined or planned for.

My knot still pulses inside her in time with Whiskey's, still pumping what little come we have left into her already overfull channels. Her inner walls flutter and clench around us with aftershocks, drawing a low groan from my throat.

We're locked together, the three of us, in the most primal and intimate way possible. The thought sends an unexpected surge of possessiveness through me.

Mine.

Ours.

But we can't stay in this position. Ivy is crushed between us, her small frame dwarfed by our bulk. I can hear her labored breathing, feel the rapid rise and fall of her back against mine.

"We need to move," I say, my voice hoarse. "Roll to the side. Carefully."

Whiskey grunts in acknowledgment. With painstaking care, I begin to shift, pulling Ivy with me. She whimpers at themovement, her body tensing. I stroke her back soothingly, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

"Easy, little one. We've got you."

Whiskey follows our motion, rolling onto his side as well. It's an awkward, ungainly process, made more difficult by the fact that we're both still knotted inside her. But eventually, we manage to settle into a more comfortable position.

We end up facing each other, Ivy sandwiched between us. Her head rests on Whiskey's bicep, her back pressed against my chest. The heat of her flushed skin burns through the layers of borrowed shirts she's still wearing.

My arm drapes over her waist, hand splaying across her lower belly. The swell of her abdomen is more prominent beneath my palm now. She's so full of our come, stretched to her absolute limit in every way. I find myself idly tracing circles on her skin.

"You okay, wildcat?" Whiskey asks, his voice gruff.

Ivy makes a soft sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. "Mhmm," she manages, clearly beyond coherent speech. Not that I'd be able to hear her that well over the ringing in my ears.

I press a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent is intoxicating, honeysuckle sweetness mingled with our muskier alpha scents. The combination makes me dizzier.

"You did so well," I murmur against her skin. "Such a good girl for us."

She shivers at the praise, her inner walls clenching around my knot. The sensation draws a sharp hiss from me, oversensitivity bordering on torture. Whiskey echoes the sound, his hips jerking again, drawing a pained cry from Ivy.

"Fuck, sorry," Whiskey mutters into her hair, stroking her to soothe her.

But the roar from the mouth of the cave freezes us in place.

That particular cry wasn't muffled.

At all.

Chapter

Twelve

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