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Her slick is pooling beneath her, soaking me. I can smell it, taste it in the air. My knot starts to swell, pressing against her entrance, making the drag even tighter.
"Knot her," Tripp growls, his voice animalistic. "Knot her with me."
I feel his knot begin to inflate, too, stretching her even further. Autumn screams, a raw, guttural sound. Her body convulses around us, her orgasm ripping through her, her cunt milking us both with violent pulses.
"Fill me," she gasps. "Come inside me. Fill me with your knots, please, please."
We knot her together.
The pressure is overwhelming, both knots locked inside her, filling her so completely that she can't move, can't do anything but take it. I feel Tripp's knot grinding against mine, the feel of his swollen flesh inside the same tight space. Autumn is sobbing now, tears streaming down her face, but she's still moaning, still begging for more.
I can't hold back. My release explodes, pumping deep into her. I feel Tripp's cock jerk at the same time, his cum mixing with mine, flooding her pussy until it's running down her thighs. Her walls keep clenching, milking us dry, and I'm growling through the aftershocks, my teeth bared.
We stay locked together for what feels like forever, panting, sweating. Her scent is intoxicating, mixed with our musk and the sharp tang of sex. I lean down, lick the tears from her cheek, tasting salt and sweetness.
"Good girl," I murmur against her ear. "You took us so well."
She manages a weak laugh, still trembling. "Fuck. We're definitely doing that again."
Tripp chuckles, the vibration making both of us wince as our knots shift inside her. "Give us ten minutes."
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Briggs
I’ve spent my whole life underestimating exactly how thin motel walls are. I’m sitting on the bed, leaned against the headboard with the television on and the volume low. Some news reporter I couldn’t care less about is talking about alpha murders increasing.
I couldn’t give you a single detail of what he said because every few minutes the headboard hits the wall. A dull but rhythmic thump that cuts through the drone of the TV. I don’t move, I keep my eyes on the screen, watching the reporter’s mouth move, but I’m not hearing a word.
Autumn’s laugh filters through next, it’s muffled but unmistakable. I’ve heard it a handful of times just tonight at the bar.
I look down at my hands resting on my thighs, palms flat. I spread my fingers wide and watch the tendons move under the skin.
The headboard picks up speed, and then she lets out a sound that’s not quite a word. It’s more a gasp that stretches into a moan.
I press my tongue against the back of my teeth and hold it there.
I told myself this was fine. Back at the bar, when Tripp looked at me over his beer and asked if I was sure, I shrugged and said yeah.
Her voice gets higher, the kind of volume that means she’s close to coming, and my cousins are doing a good job pleasuring her. My throat tightens and I swallow.
The television keeps talking; alpha murder, a string of attacks in Virginia. I stare at the screen and try to focus on the letters.
Autumn cries out. I swear the walls vibrate and the sound sinks into my chest. I look pretty damn stupid sitting in a motel room alone, while my omega is next door.
This is exactly what you wanted.
I close my eyes… big mistake. The second I do, I see her. Standing in the motel lobby earlier in that fucking romper, laughing on the mechanical bull, looking at me across the bar when she caught me staring.
I shift on the mattress as the memories of tonight kick me in the teeth. Not because of the outfit, or because she’s beautiful; everyone with functioning eyesight knows she is.
It’s how she looked at me, like she was giving me every opportunity in the world to stop being a chicken-shit idiot and do something about the fact that we both know we’re scent matched, and I couldn’t.
I can’t stop worrying that she’ll leave. Choosing Montana for a month or two isn’t the same as choosing it forever. Choosing us forever.
The thought pulls a humorless laugh out of me.
