“He’s given in,” James said. “Look at him. This has flipped the switch for him. He still responds” —his hands slid up my ribcage, my nipples tightening in anticipation— “but he’s stopped straining and accepted the restraints. He’s accepted us.” I looked over my shoulder at him, seeing the warm regard there that felt like it sizzled all the way through me. “He’ll start calling for you soon.”
As if on cue… I listened to the noisy suction of Len’s mouth, saw that Jackson had moved up to Tristan’s head and crouched down beside him, stroking his chest as he told him how well he was doing. And Tris? He just lay there, as passive as he’d ever been able to be, all of his usual energy transmuted into the sounds he made.
There would be something almost pitiable in those little kitten sounds, if I didn’t know exactly how he felt. There was this weird, loose limbed, endless pleasure, where nothing and no one else existed, only you and your partner or partners. He would be surfing a sea of ecstasy, rolling with each new wave, feeling it build and build, and all he could do was feel. The noises got sharper, more intense, more desperate, and that was when I knew what to do.
My hands slid across my omega’s thighs, feeling the slick under my fingertips and collecting it until I reached there, a tight little ring that flexed under my fingers, his cries starting to get harsh and demanding. Omegas didn’t have to be knotted, didn’t have to be penetrated, but at the right moment, there was nothing better. I teased the muscle open in the way I knew he liked—sometimes slow and gradual, sometimes forcing my finger within. Tris liked a little bite to his pleasures, and Len, he worked my omega higher in long sucking strokes that would be blowing his mind, but I wasn’t worried Tris would come before I was done. This was going to be perfect, because we needed it to be. He was about to develop an understanding of things he’d always ignored about himself. I added another finger and scissored that inside him, his groans getting deeper, louder, then another.
“He’s ready,” Jackson said finally, stroking Tristan’s hair back from his face.
“I know.”
I didn’t need lube, he was fucking drenched for me, so I leant over, careful to arch my body over Len’s, and then pushed my cock in.
It was now that I realised just how incomprehensible the shitty alphas we had played with before were. I was hovering above Tristan, his cries in my ears, his breath on my face, every fibre of his body communicating what he needed, and the men who’d played with us had seen that in me and just did whatever the fuck they’d wanted. There was something insanely intimate about this. Like, I could feel the bulb working inside me on every downstroke, rubbing hard against that spot that ached the most, but my pleasure didn’t cloud my awareness, it amplified it.
The sweetness in James’ hand on the small of my back, as if he could transmute his alpha energy into me. The wince on Tristan’s face if I went too deep, too quick, but then the languorous release when I shifted the angle of my hips, hitting him in just the right spot. The wave-like ripple of all our bodies, working in time. The noisy slurps of Len’s mouth as he sucked the slick I was forcing out of Tris’ body. And my own coiling pleasure, slick running down my thighs until James’ hand slid lower, collecting it up to suck his fingers dry, only to go back for more. I didn’t know if I’d ever felt more attuned to Tristan, to any of them. For just this moment, we were one multifaceted organism, caught in a cycle of pleasure, over and over and over until…
“Knot…” Tristan croaked out, and once the word was past his lips, the rest came. “Knot!” His cries grew more strident, a ragged siren’s call, begging, pleading, demanding that I service him.
James’ hands went to my hips, stilling me, then held me close as we pushed the knot on the dildo against Tris. His peace became somewhat fractured, his fingers becoming claws as he raked the air, no doubt scoring me if he’d been free to.
“It’s OK, it’s coming, you’re coming,” Jackson said in a steady stream of reassurance. “Kit’s going to give you everything you need because she loves you so much.”
I did, that punched me straight in the chest, and I think that wa
s why the alphas had always been so perfunctory about this. Knotting was a soul deep process, where your body fought to accept what your heart already did. I reached up and jerked his blindfold down, knowing I needed to look into his eyes as I did this. He blinked wildly, then when he finally focussed, it was on me.
“Oh fuck, Kit….”
In the end, for knotting to be a satisfactory thing, an omega had to let you in, just like his body did now. I surged forward, feeling that resistance, then the absence as the faux knot popped in.
“Tris…” I hissed, my cunt clenching hard around the knot inside me. “We did it.”
Jackson seemed to have a sixth sense, unbuckling Tris’ arm restraints, and the moment he did, his arms went around me, holding me tight, Len forced to pull back.
“Jesus, Kit, I’m so fucking glad you were the one to do this. I’m so full, full of you.” Kisses rained down blindly on my face, but when our lips collided, I captured them. So I could suck down his cries as I moved as far as I could, shuttling back and forth, faster and faster, gathering up Tris and pulling him with me.
What happened next was strange, though I guessed in some ways, it wasn’t. Everybody was so focussed on what an alpha, an omega, and a beta was, to the point of trying to get the scientific community to codify it. As if a textbook, telling you this was who you were because of science, would stop all the other feelings and instincts people had.
So when we both reached our peak, me slamming as deep as I could go as my cunt clutched helplessly at the cock that was inside me and inside him, when I felt the frantic spurt of his slick all over my stomach and his own, my mouth opened to pant out my pleasure, to let some godawful sound out. This was well beyond the physical now, a kind of complete and utter oneness filling me as I stared down into those bright green eyes. Then he did that thing that we all do, when an alpha has gotten under our skin—he turned his head to one side and revealed the perfect column of his neck. And me? I bared my tiny little fangs to the world, just before I sunk them into his skin.
“Holy fucking shit!” someone exclaimed. “She’s marking him.”
“Of course she is.” Hands, so many hands rubbing across my shoulders and down my spine as the taste of hot coppery blood filled my mouth and tears filled my eyes.
It felt like every moment I’d spent with Tristan since we’d both revealed was the relentless pursuit of enough—stealing it from alphas we fucked with, tricking our bodies that we had what we needed, while knowing in our hearts we didn’t. Right now, for the first time, we did. Tristan said he was full of me, well fuck, I was just as full of him, my heart throbbing violently as I finally drew away, licking his mark clean.
“Kit.” Tristan was back, his voice containing so, so fucking much, and a little sob escaped my lips as I pulled away. “Kit, what does this mean?”
“You know.” I sobbed out the words, as everything came tumbling back in. Dad, Pa, Mum, Theo, the Chadwicks, every fucking thing that would try to break what we’d just done, but he was my mate, so I shoved that all to one side. My smile was watery, my hands shaking as I stroked his hair. “You’re mine. Time will tell, but I think—”
“You’ve marked him, mated him,” James said, looking just as shell-shocked. “I could feel it. At least I think so. If that wasn’t—?”
“We need to get out of here,” Len said in a gravelly voice, his own skin way too pale. “This isn’t the place for this. Jackson, I need you to drive.”
“Um…sure. Where?”
“My place,” he replied, then both the alphas moved in, as considerate as betas as they helped us disengage, then dress.