Page 35 of Building My Pack

Then I feel the brush of wind against my back right before Mitchell whispers in my ear, "He's never knotted anyone before. You'll be each other’s firsts. Tell your alpha you want his knot in that omega pussy."

Who knew I was one for dirty talk? The moment his words come out, my channel starts gripping Waylen tighter and I do as he says. "Waylen, knot me. Please, please. I want your knot."

His movements become jerky and I can feel the base of him starting to swell, stretching me out. Between the sensation of adjusting to his knot, Mitchell at my back, and three different gazes locked on me, when I fall, it's hard enough to lock my muscles into place and my mouth opens on a silent scream. Then he locks into that spot that's made for alphas and I fall over again while he shouts, veins popping out on his neck with the force from it. Without conscious thought of it, my head falls to the side in a sign of complete submission begging for his bite.

Waylen jerks into a sitting position, tugging my neck closer. It all happens so fast that as I'm expecting the pain from his teeth any moment, I'm surprised to find an arm locked around my neck with Waylen's teeth sunk into it. "NO!" Mitch barks out, his alpha commanding us with a curse. I whine from the bite of it, but it breaks Waylen out of the haze he's in.

Pressing his forehead against my shoulder, he tries to get control of his breathing while apologizing. "I'm sorry, bananas. Got caught up in the moment."

A part of me is sad that Mitchell stopped him, but the bigger part is grateful. None of us have agreed to being bonded yet and it's bad enough that our firsts are being taken away with the heat. I run a hand through his dark locks as we wait for the swelling of his knot to go down. I'd adjusted my hips once out of curiosity and had us both groaning in pleasure as it tugged on where we're still connected. When he's finally soft enough to pull himself out, he places a gentle kiss on my lips before dropping back and scooting over opposite Kit.

Mitchell's breath fans hot against my neck as he asks, "Ready to quit?"

I shake my head before resting it back against his chest. He purrs in my ear, "Fair warning, Way was your warm-up. I won't be easy."

My core clenches tight and I press my cheeks against the hardness I can feel there in response. There's a harsh inhalation of air before his hand wraps around the back of my neck and shoves my face into the mattress. I've got just enough mobility to turn it to face Kit who watches unabashedly. The only warning I get before Mitchell slams into me is the heat from his body. Crying out from the pleasure-pain of it, my back automatically tries to lift off the bed, but his steady hand keeps pressure where it now lies between my shoulder blades. He takes me rough and fast, and that omega inside of me loves every second of it. From this angle, when his knot starts to swell, it works places that have me thrashing beneath him and trying to jerk back against him. Once it locks into place, he keeps working his hips. Every tug on that knot has me gasping for air. I come so hard that I black out. Or maybe it's from hyperventilation. All I know is that when I come to, I'm still stuck on Mitchell, but I'm between the two alphas with their deep purrs vibrating the entire bed. For once in what feels like forever hours, my body finally feels sated. I fall asleep wrapped in a purring-alpha cocoon with Mitchell between my legs and a hand on my thigh while Waylen's leg is thrown over ours and hand on my hip, knowing Kit is close.

Chapter 17

Bryce

The next morning, I roll over sore in all the good places, but also feeling very gritty from all of the fluids, not just from myself but the three men snoring lightly around me. Looking around, I see that we're all still in the same spots I remember before falling asleep. Kit is on the edge of the bed with his head listed to the side and a hand resting on his stomach. I almost snort seeing one of his legs hanging off the side. He'd probably have plenty of room if it didn't look like he was trying to scoot away from Mitchell who's claimed a huge space between us for himself. Waylen, on my other side, is sleeping like a baby on his belly with his arms at his sides. Three of us are still naked and the two of them are barely covered. All our scents mix and mingle throughout the room, and it's comforting as much as it is humiliating. My stomach hurts today for different reasons altogether than the surprise heat. I can't believe I've slept with all three of them like a wild animal. Poor Kit, the sweet guy he is, only wanted to help. I'd taken full advantage of those strings that are becoming attached when he'd gotten home.

I want to apologize to all of them, but I don't even know where I'd start. Before anything, I'm going to need some coffee and a shower, not necessarily in that order. Sneaking out from between the two alphas still snoozing, I quietly take the stairs up, careful not to wake anyone up.

Pausing in the kitchen quick enough to start a pot of coffee, I make my way upstairs to my bathroom. Starting the shower and waiting for it to warm up, I glance at myself in the mirror above the sink. My hair is definitely something out of a beautician's nightmare with knots and strands sticking out at awkward angles and jeez, the frizz. There are dark circles under my eyes even though I just woke up from sleeping like the dead. Around my hips, there are finger-type bruises which could've come from Mitchell, or possibly Kit before him. I did beg him for extra roughness at certain points. Mere thought of the way he took care of me with that hard, lean body of his—and then Mitchell and Waylen, too—it turns me on when I couldn't possibly be ready for any more action. Disappointed with the way my body is acting, I drop the stare-down I'm having with it and step into the shower.

Hot water is seriously a balm for the soul, and no one could make me believe otherwise. It works out the tense muscles of my shoulders and back. It even helps tame the beast of bed head with the help of a ton of conditioner. The only problem with taking showers is that besides the ritual of cleaning oneself, there's nothing else to distract the mind with. Which is why as soon as the water shuts off, I'm wrapped in my towel and sitting on the edge of the tub sobbing into my hands. I'm a twenty-eight-year-old woman and just had my first heat that should've never happened if my suppressants were working right. As if that wasn't bad enough, I'd dragged practical strangers into the whirlwind of a crap show that is my life right now. Mitchell hadn't been bothered last night. None of them were, but that doesn't stop the well of shame anyway. I've never had to rely on anyone for anything in my life. I made sure of it. Crossed all my t's and dotted all my i's, never stepped out of line, and took my suppressants. Yet, here I am.

I'm so lost in morose thoughts that I don't even hear anyone come into the room. "Figured I'd find you like this," Waylen's sleep-filled, husky voice says.

Dropping my hands and wiping my face with the bottom of my towel, I hoarsely tell him, "I just needed a shower. I'll be down shortly."

There's a rustle of fabric and I think that he's left, but glancing over my shoulder, I find that he's walking over from where he must've been propped against the sink. One thing I never knew about myself is how much I find the ‘jeans and no shirt or shoes’ thing attractive. He must've just thrown them on and come straight up. The slight swagger in those few steps to where I'm sitting making the jeans ride lower doesn't help anything, either. I know he can scent my arousal as I watch him, because his nostrils flare slightly.

Holding out a hand as he makes it to me, he leaves the decision up to me whether I take whatever he's offering or not. After last night and the way they came in and took care of me without question, I owe them. When I place my hand in his, he smiles and helps me off of the tub before leading us to my bed. I truly hope he doesn't expect any kind of action this morning, because even though my body is screaming yes, it's also sore in more ways than one.

Hopping on top of the blanket I'd left in disarray yesterday on my way to the basement, he opens his arms in invitation. Wet hair be damned, I can change the sheets later, because I find that I actually want to cuddle with him. I crawl over to him and lay my head down on his arm while burying my face into his chest. His other arm goes around my back as he throws a leg over mine, tucking me as tight as possible against him. Then he starts that deep purr in his chest, and I literally melt like a stick of butter in the hot sun.

We lay like that for a few minutes before he asks around the purring, "Why were you crying, bananas?"

He's lifted the heaviness that's been sitting on my chest since I woke up, so I can at least tell him the truth. "Imagine having what you think is this perfect plan for your life all mapped out and you're going down the checklist until you're almost at the bottom. Then suddenly, that list catches on fire and is as if it never existed at all."

"Life isn't supposed to be a checklist," he tells me. "You're meant to enjoy it. Lists don't leave room between the lines to have fun and sometimes, even find love. Did yours catch fire? Sure, but what's stopping you from grabbing another piece of paper and writing a new one?"

What he's saying is something along the same lines as what Kit's said, too. Filing that away for future pondering when I'm alone, I give him another truth in a hushed tone. "I'm ashamed of what happened."

His purring stops at this. "Ashamed? Like you didn't want to be with us sexually, or that we might've seen you vulnerable and relied on someone other than yourself for something you need for once?"

How could he possibly hit the nail on the head like that so perfectly and mirror my thoughts from the shower? "You barely know me."

"So," he says, starting to purr again and tightening his arms around me. "I like what I do know, and I'd like to get to know the rest, too. Look at it this way, if you decide to keep us around at least you know the sex is good."

I bark out a laugh between the pecs of his chest where my face is still buried and he adds, "I can't promise that either of us can cook you a decent meal without burning something unless there's a grill involved. But we'll be here if shit hits the fan. Plus, you can ride my knot again anytime you're ready."

Maybe there's something to this whole ‘dating younger guys’ thing. At least my libido thinks so as my lower belly tingles. Lifting my face, I find him smiling down at me and I can't help but push up to give him a kiss. I think he knows I'm not ready because it only lasts a few moments, just long enough to appreciate each other without wanting to strip our clothes off.

He presses a kiss against my forehead with a sigh. "Better?" When I nod, he says, "Okay, well you better get that beautiful butt up and get dressed because I'm going to go attempt some breakfast and if you don't want everything extra crispy you might want to come down and help me."

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