Page 29 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

When he’s fully seated, his hips flush against mine, he pauses, letting me adjust. My inner walls pulse around him, my body greedily taking what it needs. Another wave of slick gushes from me, easing the way as he begins to move.

He takes me slow, agonizingly thorough, his cock dragging against spots inside me I didn’t know existed. His control is incredible—every thrust measured, every kiss deliberate, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has me clawing at his back, leaving red welts in my desperation.

“More,” I demand, wrapping my legs around his waist, trying to force him deeper, faster.

“Patience,” he murmurs against my throat, his teeth scraping lightly over my pulse point. The threat—the promise—of his bite makes me clench around him, a moan tearing from my throat.

I’m dimly aware of the others watching, their scents heavy with arousal, their eyes tracking every movement, every expression.

In any other circumstance, I might feel self-conscious.

But in the throes of heat, with Caleb’s cock stretching me open, all I feel is a primal satisfaction at being witnessed, being wanted.

The next orgasm catches me by surprise, washing over me in a wave that makes me cry out, my back arching, my core clenching around Caleb’s length. He growls in response, his thrusts growing more forceful, his control slipping.

“Mmm,” he rumbles, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me steady as he pounds into me. “Take me, Leah. Take all of me.”

The base of his cock begins to swell—his knot, the part of him designed to lock us together, to ensure his seed takes root. My heat-addled brain screams for it, my body producing another flood of slick in preparation.

“Please,” I gasp, knowing exactly what I’m begging for and not even a little bit ashamed. I need it. Need to be filled. “ Please , Caleb.”

His growl vibrates through me, his rhythm faltering as his release approaches.

“Oh fuck, Leah.” His teeth find my neck again, scraping but not breaking skin—not claiming, not yet, but the promise is there.

When he finally lets go, it’s with a snarl that seems to shake the room, his knot swelling to full size, locking us together as his release floods my core. The sensation triggers another orgasm, more intense than the first, making me scream his name, my nails carving half-moons into his back.

For long moments, we stay joined, his weight a comforting anchor as aftershocks ripple through me. His breathing is harsh against my neck, his body still trembling with the force of his release.

I’m boneless, sated, drifting in a pleasant haze of post-orgasmic bliss?—

“My turn.” Jude’s voice cuts through the fog, playful but edged with hunger. “Let me soothe her.”

Caleb’s knot has barely subsided enough for him to pull out when Jude’s hands are on me, turning me, arranging me how he wants me. His touch is different from Caleb’s—lighter, teasing, his fingers dancing over my oversensitive skin like he’s playing an instrument.

“Like my hands, omega?” he purrs, dragging them up my thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I try to glare up at him, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite being naked, flushed, and dripping with both my slick and Caleb’s release. “If you’re going to talk, make it worth my while.”

He laughs, the sound bright with genuine delight. “Oh, I do like you.”

Then his expression shifts, his playfulness giving way to something darker, more primal, as he catches a fresh wave of my heat scent. My body is already ramping up again, the brief respite after Caleb’s attentions fading as my heat demands more.

I whimper, the sound small and needy—and his control shatters.

“Leah—”

He doesn’t hold back. He can’t. His hips snap forward, his grip bruising, his mouth crashing into mine like he’s starving. His cock fills me in a single thrust, different from Caleb’s—slightly less thick but longer, reaching places inside me that make my toes curl.

Where Caleb was controlled, Jude is chaotic. Where Caleb was measured, Jude is wild. He fucks like he lives—with joyful abandon, his rhythm unpredictable, his hands everywhere at once.

And I love it.

“So fucking good,” he pants against my mouth, his citrus-and-woodsmoke scent wrapping around me like a second skin. “Knew you’d be perfect. Knew from the moment I saw you.”

His words, his touch, his scent—they all combine to push me toward another peak, this one building faster, higher, more intense than before. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, demanding more.

When I come, it’s with a cry that he swallows with his kiss, his hips never slowing, driving me through the pleasure and straight into another orgasm that crashes over me like a tidal wave.

His knot swells, catching at my entrance, stretching me almost to the point of pain before pushing fully inside, locking us together as he follows me over the edge. When he finishes, it’s with my name on his lips, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged against my face.

“Worth the wait,” he murmurs, his usual sass temporarily subdued by satisfaction.

Liam is already there when Jude’s knot subsides enough for him to pull out, a glass of water in hand and a damp cloth to clean the evidence of our combined pleasure from my thighs.

“Drink,” he murmurs, his voice steady even as his eyes darken with desire.

I drink gratefully, suddenly aware of how parched I am. The water soothes my throat, raw from crying out, and helps clear my head for a moment—though I know the reprieve is temporary. My heat is far from over, my body already warming again, preparing for more.

Liam’s hands shake slightly as he sets the glass aside, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges. His scent intensifies as he leans closer, his breath hitching when another wave of my pheromones hits him.

“Your turn?” I ask, my voice scratchy but teasing.

His smile is shy but hungry. “If you want me.”

“I want all of you,” I admit, the raw honesty surprising even me. “I have from the beginning.”

His pupils dilate, swallowing the warm brown of his irises. He watches me as he strips slowly, his throat working. His body is leaner than the others’, but no less powerful, his muscles defined and his cock impressively thick.

He’s methodical, worshipful—tracing every inch of me like I’m a recipe he’s determined to memorize. His touch is reverent, his gaze adoring as he explores me, finding spots that make me gasp, that make me arch, that make me beg.

His fingers lace with mine, pinning them gently above my head as he finally, finally sinks into me. The stretch is divine, my body welcoming him even after two alpha knots, slick easing his way.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, and for the first time in my life, I believe it.

He takes his time, his movements slow, deep, reverent, until I’m shaking beneath him, my thighs trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Where Caleb was controlled and Jude was chaotic, Liam is thorough—hitting every sensitive spot with precision, watching my reactions with focused intensity.

“Please,” I whimper, teetering on the edge of another orgasm, desperate for release. “Liam, please.”

His rhythm falters at the sound of his name from my lips, his composure slipping. “Say it again.”

“Liam,” I gasp, arching into him. “Liam, please, I?—”

His cock seems to harden even more. The pressure is exquisite , the fullness almost too much to bear. When he finally slams home, bottoming out and locking us together, the stretch sends me hurtling over the edge, my orgasm tearing through me with such force that tears spring to my eyes.

“Leah,” he groans, his release pulsing inside me, his body shuddering above mine. “My Leah.”

When I come back to myself, I’m cradled against Liam’s chest, his knot still tying us together, his hands gentle in my hair. The heat haze has receded slightly, giving me a moment of clarity amidst the biological storm.

Mason is waiting when Liam’s knot finally subsides enough for him to pull out, his dark eyes watching us with patient hunger. He hesitates, his instincts warring with the desire evident in every line of his body.

“Mason,” I murmur, reaching for him, surprised at how much I want this—want him—despite having taken three knots already.

“I’ve wanted this since day one,” he admits, voice rough as he sheds his clothes. “Since I saw you at that wedding and you pretended to be ours.”

His body is beautiful—broad shoulders, narrow waist, strong thighs, and a cock that makes my mouth water despite my exhaustion. Not as thick as the alphas’, with no knot to swell at the base, but perfect in its own right.

“I wasn’t pretending,” I confess, the words spilling out. “Not really. Part of me wanted it to be real from the moment Jude mistook me for your date.”

Something shifts in Mason’s expression—a softening, a deepening, his usual stoic facade cracking to reveal raw emotion beneath. He comes to me slowly, settling between my thighs with careful control, his hands tracing patterns on my skin that leave fire in their wake.

His touch is firmer than I expect, his control absolute as he enters me—until I arch into him, my nails scraping down his back, a fresh wave of heat-scent filling the room.

Then he breaks.

He buries his face in my neck, inhaling my scent like it’s oxygen, his hips snapping forward with enough force to make me cry out. His usual restraint shatters, his thrusts deep and powerful, each one sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my oversensitized system.

“ Mine ,” he growls against my throat—the first alpha word he’s ever spoken to me, though he’s not an alpha at all.

But in this moment, with my heat and their combined desire pushing us all beyond our usual boundaries, it doesn’t matter. He claims me as thoroughly as any alpha, his possessiveness matching theirs, his desire burning just as hot.