Page 50 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)
thirty-five
Vespera
Heat burned through every nerve ending, consuming rational thought and leaving only desperate need in its wake.
My skin felt like it was on fire, hypersensitive to every touch, every shift of air.
The nest cradled my naked body: soft fabrics Oakley had gathered with such careful attention.
Dorian's cashmere sweater, pillows from the settee, the throw blanket that still carried traces of their scents.
God, I needed them so badly it was killing me.
Three Alpha scents surrounded me, each one triggering something primal in my heat-addled biology.
Dorian's sandalwood sharp with possession.
Oakley's warm cedar that should have been comforting but only made me ache more.
Corvus's dark chocolate and midnight, clinical even in his arousal.
Combined, they created an intoxicating fog that made resistance impossible.
The rich Alpha musk filled Dorian's bedroom completely now, layering with my own desperate pheromones until the air itself seemed thick with imperative.
"Please," I heard myself whisper, though I wasn't sure what I was begging for anymore.
Relief. Release. Anything to make this burning stop.
Dorian's hands were on me then, strong and claiming, his touch leaving trails of electricity across my fever-hot skin. His ice-blue eyes were wild with rut, pupils blown wide as he breathed in my heat scent.
"You've been fighting this for so long," he murmured, voice rough with need. "Fighting us. Fighting yourself. Fighting what we all knew was inevitable."
I wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him this wasn't inevitable, but another wave of heat crashed through my system and all I could do was whimper.
Couldn't think past the burning, couldn't see past the need.
The nest felt like the only solid thing in a world gone liquid. I clutched at the soft fabrics, trying to ground myself. His cashmere sweater still smelled like him, and breathing it in made something deep in my chest purr with satisfaction.
"She's beautiful like this," Oakley said from somewhere to my left, his cedar scent wrapping around me. "So perfect."
His hands joined Dorian's, gentler but no less possessive as they traced my flushed skin. I should have fought this. Should have pushed them away, screamed, done something to stop what was happening.
Instead, I arched into their touch with a broken sound.
Traitor body wanted this more than pride wanted freedom.
"The body knows what the mind denies," Corvus observed from the foot of the bed, his analytical tone somehow more terrifying than outright hunger. "Biology is the ultimate truth."
He was methodically removing his tie and jacket while his dark eyes cataloged every reaction, every shudder. There was nowhere to run from the three Alphas who had spent months systematically breaking me down for this exact moment.
When Dorian's fingers found my breast, brushing against skin so sensitive it felt like it might combust, I cried out with desperate need.
The sound seemed to break something loose in all of them, because suddenly there was efficient movement: clothes being stripped away while I lay naked and trembling in the nest.
"So perfect," Dorian growled, eyes traveling over my exposed body with predatory hunger. "Ours. Always meant to be ours."
Shame warred with arousal as I felt slick coating my thighs, the humiliating evidence of my body's preparation. The scent of my own need filled the room, thick and unmistakable, mingling with their rut pheromones in a cocktail that made rational thought impossible.
Couldn't hide how much I wanted this, how much my biology was screaming for them.
"Please," I whispered again, the word falling from my lips like a prayer. "I can't—it hurts—"
"We know," Oakley murmured, his hand gentle on my cheek. "We're going to help you. Make the pain stop."
His touch was different from Dorian's: softer, more comforting, though no less claiming. When his lips found my throat, pressing against the sensitive scent gland that pulsed with every racing heartbeat, I melted into the contact with a small sound of relief.
Finally, something that didn't hurt.
Dorian growled at the sight, something territorial flashing in his ice-blue eyes. "Mine first," he said, words barely human. "My claim is primary."
Corvus nodded, dark eyes never leaving my face. "Pack hierarchy demands it."
I should have been terrified by their casual discussion of claiming me, by the assumption that I belonged to them. Instead, my heat-drunk body responded with a fresh wave of slick that made Dorian's nostrils flare with satisfaction.
Even now, even knowing what they were, my body wanted them.
"She agrees," he said, moving between my spread legs with predatory intent. "Her body knows who she belongs to."
My last coherent thought was that I should fight, should maintain some shred of dignity. But then his hands were on my hips, pulling me to the edge of the nest, and all rational thought evaporated beneath the desperate need consuming me.
When he pressed against me, hot and hard and ready, I made a sound I'd never made before: half sob, half plea. The heat was unbearable now, a ravenous ache that demanded satisfaction.
Please make it stop burning.
"Say it," Dorian demanded, voice rough with rut. "Say you're ours."
"I can't..." I gasped, trying to cling to the last shreds of defiance even as my body arched toward him, seeking relief.
"You can," Oakley encouraged, lips at my ear, cedar scent wrapping around me. "Let go, Vespera. Let yourself have what you need."
Corvus's hand found my throat, gentle but unmistakable assertion of dominance as he tilted my face toward him. "The longer you resist, the more it will hurt. Surrender is inevitable."
Trapped between the three of them, surrounded by their scents and their touch and their absolute certainty, I felt the last of my resistance crumble.
"I'm yours," I whispered, the admission torn from somewhere deep inside me. "Please—I need—"
Needed them needed this needed anything to make the emptiness stop.
The words were barely out before Dorian surged forward, claiming me in one powerful thrust that knocked the breath from my lungs. The stretch was intense, the sudden fullness making me gasp and arch beneath him. My body clenched around him instinctively, desperate to keep him inside.
"Fuck, you're tight," he growled, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "So perfect around my cock. Made for this."
He withdrew almost completely before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that had me crying out with each thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming, bordering on pain, every nerve ending on fire as he claimed me with ruthless precision.
Oakley's mouth found mine, swallowing my desperate sounds as Dorian's movements grew more erratic. I could taste the Alpha's arousal on his lips, could smell how much watching this was affecting him.
Corvus watched with predatory focus, his hand still resting on my throat, thumb stroking the sensitive skin as he cataloged every reaction.
"Look how she takes him," he murmured with something like wonder in his usually analytical voice. "Perfect little Omega, made to be fucked by her Alphas."
Was I? Was this what I was made for?
Every thrust sent shockwaves through my system, the angle hitting something deep inside that made me see stars. When Dorian's pace quickened, I responded without conscious thought: internal muscles clenching around him, body arching to take him deeper, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in.
"Mine," he growled against my throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin. "Say it again. Tell me who this pussy belongs to."
"Yours," I gasped, the crude words shocking me even as they spilled from my lips. "Please, Dorian—I'm so close—"
His teeth found my scent gland then, not breaking skin but pressing with unmistakable intent. The claiming bite. The thought should have terrified me, but instead I tilted my head back, offering better access, my body knowing what it needed even when my mind couldn't accept it.
Biology recognizing what my mind refused.
The moment his teeth pressed harder, something inside me exploded.
The orgasm tore through me with devastating force, stealing my breath and making me scream his name as waves of pleasure crashed through my system.
I felt myself gush around his cock, my body convulsing as the most intense climax of my life ripped me apart.
Dorian followed immediately, his body tensing as he buried himself to the hilt and came with a roar that seemed to shake the room. But instead of the knot I'd been prepared for, he pulled back, denying the complete claiming that would have sealed our bond irreversibly.
"Not yet," he panted, forehead pressed against mine as we both fought to catch our breath. "Not until all of us have had our turn."
Should have been humiliated but my body clenched with want for more.
Before I could process what was happening, they were moving me deeper into the nest, rearranging my limp body with gentle but firm hands. My thighs were slick with arousal and Dorian's release, the evidence of what we'd done impossible to ignore.
Dorian stretched out beside me, possessive hand on my waist, while Oakley took his place between my trembling legs.
"My turn," he said softly, cedar scent warm with protective desire. "I'll be gentle with you."
And he was. Where Dorian had been consuming fire and brutal claiming, Oakley moved with careful precision. His fingers traced through the mess between my thighs, gathering the slick and using it to prepare me with reverent touches.
"So beautiful," he murmured, pressing one finger inside me, then two. "So wet and ready for us."
When he finally pressed his cock inside, it was with a tenderness that made me gasp with surprise rather than pain. He was thicker than Dorian, the stretch different but just as overwhelming.