Page 82 of Unhinged Alphas

Whiskey swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Uh, why?"

I feel my cheeks flush as I try to articulate my thoughts. "It's just... you're so different. Plague's all buttoned up, you know? Always in control, always composed. And you're..." I gesture vaguely at him. "Well, not."

Whiskey laughs nervously. "Yeah, I guess we are pretty different."

"And he's so lean while you're so…big," I continue, my voice dropping to a whisper as my hand drifts lower, caressing the base of his impossibly huge shaft. It's all I can reach in the tight space, considering he's already so hard.

Whiskey's breath hitches. "Ivy, I?—"

"I want to know what happened," I insist with alittle grin, my free hand working at his belt. "Educate me."

He groans as I free his cock, the thick shaft springing up between us. I wrap my hand around it, marveling at how my fingers barely meet.

"It was in the infirmary," Whiskey starts, his voice strained. "After Wraith busted my shoulder up."

My hand glides up and down Whiskey's thick shaft, encouraging him, feeling his cock pulse and twitch against my palm. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps as he bucks into my hand. I can't help but marvel at the contrast—my hand failing to wrap all the way around his girth, my body dwarfed by his bulk.

"Keep going," I urge, my voice low and breathy. "What happened next?"

Whiskey groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. "Plague, he...fuck, Ivy, do we have to do this?"

I slow my strokes, teasing him. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" he blurts out, then catches himself. "I mean... shit."

I grin, picking up the pace again. "Then keep talking."

He lets out a shaky breath. "Alright, alright. SoPlague offered to help me out, said I couldn't jerk myself off with my shoulder in that shape…"

"And you agreed?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Whiskey nods, his eyes squeezed shut. "Yeah, I... we were both pretty worked up. Your scent was everywhere, driving us crazy."

A thrill runs through me at his words. I hadn't realized how much power my presence had over them. "So what did he do?"

"W-well, you didn't want anything to do with us back then…"

"And?" I urge.

"He, uh..." Whiskey swallows hard. "He took both of us in his hand. Together."

"Both your cocks?" I ask, tilting my head. "Explain."

He groans again, his head falling back against the edge of the seat cushion on the recliner. "Fuck," he rasps, his hips bucking again. "He grabbed us both. Our cocks were pressed together, and he just... stroked. Like you're doin' now, but… fuck…"

My mind races with the image, heat pooling low in my core as my imagination springs to life in vivid detail. I lean down, my tongue darting out to taste the precome beading on Whiskey's crown. He jerks beneath me, a strangled sound escaping his throat.

"Keep going," I urge, my lips brushing against his sensitive flesh. "I want more details."

His cock twitches against my tongue as I trace the thick vein along its underside. "Fuck, Ivy," he pants. "What more do you want?"

"Everything," I breathe. "How did it feel? What did Plague do?"

Whiskey's massive hands dig into the blankets beneath us, his knuckles turning white. "It was... intense," he manages. "Plague's hand barely fit around both of us. He's got those long fingers, though…"

"Mhmm," I murmur, taking him into my mouth and sucking lightly.

Whiskey's thick fingers tangle in my hair, not pushing, just holding on as if he needs an anchor. His voice comes out strained, breathless. "Plague, he...fuck... he started slow… teasing. You know how he is… he's a dick…"