Page 26 of Welcome to Seaman’s Cove: Part Two

That thought terrifies me, but my pulse kicks up, cock swelling against my thigh. The ship lifts on a wave, the movement rolling me toward Hunter. Our feet touch. I don’t move away. Neither does he.

The movie plays on, all explosions and spies and action, but I’m not paying attention to it. My focus is firmly locked on the man next to me. He’s breathing hard, slouching a little. Is he in pain again? What is he feeling through the bond?

Tentatively, I put a hand on his leg, just above his knee, and give what I hope is a reassuring squeeze. Hunter sighs, and his breathing steadies. I did that. There’s something powerful about that realization. It makes me want to do more to comfort him. I get the impression he’s usually the one providing comfort and security for others. He must feel so helpless to be separated from his mate like this, to feel so alone.

I start to move my hand away, but he sets his atop mine, stopping me without a word. My chest swells with pride as he offers me a tiny smile. I like making this alpha smile. I’ve always loved taking care of Phoenix, and it surprises me how much I enjoy doing the same for Hunter. I’m overwhelmed by the urge to make him feel better—not just better, but good. So good that he forgets, just for a minute, that he’s isolated from his mate. Could I do that?

I catch Phoenix eyeing us from the other side of the bed. He gives me an encouraging nod, and I scoot around, acting like I’m just trying to get comfortable, but moving a little closer to Hunter in the process. Phoenix puts his hand on Hunter’s other thigh. His eyes stay on me. Light from the movie flickers over his sharp features.

Hunter’s scent changes, strong enough for even my beta senses to pick up. Fragrant plumeria and warm sandalwood sweep through the room, sweet and heady. He’s turned on.

The bed sways, rain pattering overhead, thunder sounding from farther away. Phoenix kisses Hunter’s neck. It’s barely a brush of his lips, but Hunter shudders, a soft moan slipping past his lips even though his eyes are still on the TV.

There’s something about the dark room, lit only by the lightning and the flashing scenes on the screen, that makes this feel unreal, like something we’re allowed to explore without needing to define it.

Hunter’s hand is still over mine, and Phoenix's joins ours. He slowly guides my palm higher on Hunter’s thigh. Neither of us stop him. I swallow hard when my fingertips brush against the thick rod in Hunter’s shorts. He sucks in an audible breath.

“Okay?” Phoenix asks.

I’m not sure if the question is directed at Hunter or me, but we both nod. It’s a small motion, barely an acknowledgement. I’m not sure either of us really want to admit what’s happening. I know I don’t.

I’m not ready for Phoenix to read more into it than what’s there. But… I don’t want to stop. My body is buzzing with electricity, its own kind of storm. The thick combination of our scents intoxicates me. I want to explore this, if only in the dark.

The music on screen shifts into something quick tempoed to match the chase scene playing out. The crescendos may as well be aligned to my heartbeat the way it races.

Hunter drags his fingers up my arm, and I can tell it’s a silent invitation. He’s letting go of my hand, letting me decide if I want to move further or stay here. Phoenix’s gaze bores into the side of my face, but I don’t look at him. My eyes are on the bulge in Hunter’s shorts and how close my hand is to it.

When Phoenix moves his hand to Hunter’s waistband, I do, too. Pausing, we wait for Hunter to stop us, unsure if I want him to or not. He doesn’t. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and the other around Phoenix’s in a move that’s pure alpha. With his arms around us, he guides us together until our foreheads touch, heads hovering just over where our hands rest.

Phoenix stretches the elastic up and pulls down. I do the same. Hunter lifts his hips to help us as we move his shorts and boxers down his thighs.

Once his cock is free, all I can do is stare at it. Until now, the only alpha I’d seen naked was Phoenix.

Hunter is hairier than my firebird, his balls and knot bigger, though I don’t think he’s fully engorged yet. My ass clenches as I stare down at him, thinking about how his thickness would stretch me. Phoenix’s cock is beautiful, silky smooth, and so long it hits spots I never knew existed, but Hunter is thick. He’d push my limits in the best way.

Phoenix doesn’t move. Neither does Hunter. It’s as if they’re both waiting for me to act first. I’m almost scared to touch it, but I can’t resist. With my head resting on Hunter’s abs just next to Phoenix’s, I drag one finger from the base of his shaft to the weeping tip. I gather a bit of pre-cum and bring it to my lips. He tastes sweet and woody with a touch of saltiness that has me moaning.

My eyes drift closed, then lift to the screen, needing a moment of distance. It doesn’t help much since the actors are skinny dipping, all slick skin and glistening bodies. The taste lingering on my tongue begs for more. Has my firebird experienced this flavor? I know they shared one night together, but I don’t know what exactly transpired. The need to share with Phoenix has me repeating my touch, this time bringing Hunter’s essence to my boyfriend’s lips.

Everything is slow, relaxed, dreamlike. Until Phoenix closes his mouth around my fingers and sucks hard. He lets out a throaty groan, and Hunter bucks his hips in response.

“Oh fuck,” Phoenix gasps when I remove my fingers.

He practically lunges for Hunter’s cock, swallowing him all the way to the base in one motion. I wiggle up the bed until I’m sitting beside Hunter with his arm around me while we watch Phoenix bob up and down his cock.

It’s not the first time I’ve watched my alpha with someone else. Seeing him give pleasure has always been a turn on for me. I thought it’d be different with Hunter, though, that I’d feel more threatened by it. I was wrong. My heart’s racing a mile a minute, and I’ve never been more turned on in my life.

Hunter’s hand tenses on my arm, his body shaking with restraint. Our eyes lock, the movie forgotten. Curious how he’ll respond, I reach my hand into my shorts and give myself a firm jerk.

“You smell good, beta,” Hunter says, voice husky and low. Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s resting the heavy weight of his hand on Phoenix’s head.

“You do, too,” I confess, stomach doing little fluttering somersaults.

The rain pitter-patters, the sway of the ship turning gentler now that the worst of the storm has passed. The movie creates a buzzing background noise that blankets what we’re doing and makes it feel like something secret and hidden.

Phoenix makes a muffled grunting, groaning sound, but I can’t look away from Hunter. It’s like he holds me captive in this moment, like he’s begging me for something, but I don’t know what.

My hand glides up and down my shaft, faster and faster. That familiar burn starts at the base of my spine and spreads outward. I’m close.