Page 51 of The Drama King (The University Players Duet #1)

"Perfect," he breathed against my throat, movements slow and deep. "Taking me so well, sweet Omega."

The contrast was disorienting: the same imperative but experienced so differently. Where Dorian had claimed with brutal possession, Oakley worshipped with gentle reverence. Both equally devastating to what remained of my resistance.

Different Alpha, different approach, same inevitable surrender.

His pace was maddeningly slow, each thrust calculated to hit that spot inside me that made me whimper and clutch at his shoulders. When he finally picked up speed, it was with a focused intensity that had me falling apart beneath him.

Corvus watched with those calculating dark eyes, stroking his own impressive length as he cataloged every reaction. When Oakley's gentle but relentless pace brought me to another shuddering climax, I caught something that looked like wonder in Corvus's expression.

"The way she responds," he murmured, voice rougher than usual. "Extraordinary."

Oakley followed me over the edge with a soft groan, his teeth finding the other side of my throat in a claiming bite that mirrored Dorian's. The double marking sent another wave of aftershocks through my oversensitive system.

Marked by two. One more to complete the set.

As Oakley withdrew, I could feel the combined evidence of their claiming trickling down my thighs. My body was already aching for more, the heat demanding complete satisfaction.

Corvus approached as Oakley moved aside, his expression intense with controlled desire. "Last, but not least," he said softly, positioning himself between my spread legs with methodical precision.

Where Dorian had been fire and Oakley water, Corvus was earth: solid, implacable, rooted in certainty.

When he pressed inside, it was with deliberate slowness, every movement calculated for maximum impact.

His dark eyes never left mine, watching every reaction with focus that made me feel completely exposed.

"You've fought this for so long," he observed, his pace maddeningly controlled despite the obvious strain of his rut. "And for what? This was always how it would end."

No answer left. The heat had burned away all explanations.

I had no words left to explain why I'd resisted what my body clearly wanted. The heat had burned away everything except raw truth.

"We would have had you eventually," he continued, voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "This was always the inevitable conclusion."

His hand moved to my throat then, not squeezing but resting with deliberate weight: a calculating assertion of dominance that made my pulse race beneath his palm.

"Breathe when I allow it," he instructed, dark eyes watching my reaction with clinical fascination. "Submit completely."

Complete surrender. No choice left.

The pressure increased slightly, enough to make each breath a conscious effort. The restriction sent unexpected waves of pleasure through my system, some primal part of my Omega biology responding to the complete surrender of control.

His other hand found the bundle of nerves between my legs, circling with methodical precision while he continued his measured thrusts. The dual control—of my breath, of my pleasure—was overwhelming.

"Perfect," he murmured, watching me arch beneath him. "Every reaction exactly as anticipated."

When the third orgasm hit, it was almost too much: pleasure bordering on pain, my body overstimulated and desperate. I cried out something that might have been his name, might have been a plea, my inner muscles clenching around him desperately.

Corvus followed with controlled intensity, his teeth finding the juncture where my shoulder met my neck—a third claiming mark to complete the set. His release was hot and thick inside me, mixing with the others in a claiming that went deeper than physical.

Three Alphas, three marks, completely claimed.

As the immediate need receded, leaving me limp and dazed in the nest, reality began to seep back around the edges. The combined scent of our joining filled the air, thick and unmistakable.

"Beautiful," Dorian murmured, hand stroking possessively along my side. "Our perfect Omega."

"The pack bond is forming," Oakley observed, nose pressed against my throat where his claiming bite still throbbed. "Can you feel it?"

I could. Something invisible but tangible, connecting the four of us in ways that transcended the physical. A bond that had been forced on me through months of manipulation and pressure.

Bonded now to the very people who had destroyed me.

"What happens now?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Dorian's smile was tender and terrifying in equal measure. "Now we complete the claiming," he said, hand finding the nape of my neck. "When your heat peaks again, I'll knot you properly. Seal the bond permanently."

"But for now, you rest," Oakley added, arranging the nest more comfortably around me. "Gather your strength for what comes next."

Should have been planning escape, but I was so tired.

The respite didn't last long. Within an hour, the heat was building again, more intense than before. My skin flushed, my breathing quickened, and I felt the desperate emptiness returning with renewed force.

Here it came. The final claiming.

"It's starting again," Oakley observed.

Dorian was already moving, positioning himself between my legs with Alpha certainty. "This time," he said, voice rough with renewed rut, "I complete the claiming. The bond will be permanent."

I should have protested. Should have found some last reserve of strength to fight. Instead, I found myself spreading my legs in desperate invitation, my body seeking relief from the unbearable heat.

"Please," I gasped.

Make it stop. Make the burning end.

When Dorian pushed inside, it felt like coming home. My body welcomed him with embarrassing eagerness, already familiar with his shape and rhythm. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back of what biology demanded.

"Mine," he growled against my throat, teeth finding the mark he'd left earlier. "Say it again."

"Yours," I whispered. "All yours."

The truth I couldn't fight anymore.

His movements grew more intense as his knot began to swell at the base of his cock. I could feel the pressure building, the gradual stretch that both terrified and thrilled me.

"Take all of me," he commanded, voice barely human. "Take my knot. Complete the bond."

No going back after this. Never.

When his knot finally locked inside me, the stretch was almost unbearable: pleasure and pain in equal measure as my body yielded to accept the most primal form of claiming possible.

I felt him pulse inside me, felt the hot rush of his release, felt the moment the bond sealed into place with irrevocable finality.

Done. It was done. Forever now.

The sensation triggered my own climax, more intense than anything that had come before. I screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed through me, my body clenching around his knot in rhythmic pulses that seemed to go on forever.

We were locked now, physically and biologically, the knot ensuring his seed remained deep inside me where biology intended. The permanence of it settled over me with strange clarity.

Permanent. No escape now.

"Ours," Dorian murmured against my temple. "Forever ours."

Some broken part of me whispered back: Yours.