Page 23 of Pack’s Pledge

“No,” I hurried to correct, bringing one foot up around his thigh, holding him steady. “You feel amazing.”

“You want more?” he asked. There was a faint sheen of perspiration on his bare chest, and I realized he’d been holding back, hovering above me.

“Please,” I said, and the groan that escaped his chest made me smirk for a second before his cock pushed further inside. “Oh,oh,” I moaned, as the stretch became overwhelming. He was so deep, his cock pressing tight against places I’d never felt before. “Conall,” I moaned, and he let out a shuddering breath, sinking deeper. “Hold on— Slow down—” I gasped, bracing my arms against the headboard, taking a deep breath.

“You’re halfway there,” he said, and an incredulous laugh escaped me.

“Fuck,” I swore, but I rocked my hips up. My walls were tight around his cock, and I was too far gone to stop. I needed release, I needed more, I needed him—

He sank deeper, inch by excruciating inch, until finally, his hips met mine. I couldn’t move, pinned to the bed, barely able to breathe due to the overwhelming fullness of his cock deep within my belly. My spine was buzzing with pain and pleasure as my body adjusted, my walls fluttering around his cock.

“Britt,” he groaned. His arms were shaking. “Tell me, is it too much?”

It was. Itwas—my brain was fuzzy and I thought if I opened my mouth, his cock might be there, lodged in my throat, but—

“You feel so good, Conall,” I sighed, “move, please, just—”

He did, but instead of withdrawing, he flexed his hips, punching another sigh from me as he ground against me, deep, so deep.

“I’m not going to last,” he said, and I looked up at him to see his brows drawn tight, his muscles straining to keep still, his movements small and tight. “You’re so fucking tight, Britt, I—”

“Please, Conall,” I whimpered, and his hips flexed again, then again, and then he rolled his hips, his eyes never leaving my face, his lips parted with concentration. “Oh, fuck, yes,yes,” I chanted, as I felt his shaft slide against my sensitive walls, slow and thick like molasses. My clit was pulsing, the pain melting away as I adjusted, leaving only the heat of desire, my body spiraling higher and higher, tighter and tighter around the intrusion of his cock, from the blunt, thick head, all the way down to the loose ring of skin at the base and I remembered vaguely that there wasmore, thatthis wasn’t even all of it—

My body pulled taut, my eyes closed tight against the blinding white light of my orgasm, almost painfully powerful, and over the rushing in my ears I could hear Conall’s grunt, the way he groaned my name,Britt, as his cock lurched inside me, pulsing, letting loose a torrent of warmth that filled me from my toes to my fingertips, leaving behind a ringing aftershock of sensation. He collapsed heavily to one side of us, pulling me over to him, his cock still lodged within me, still spurting thickly as he panted, pulling my mouth to his for a bruising, desperate kiss that slowly softened.

“Britt,” he whispered, as my body loosened, and then again, as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. “Britt. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I said. Wrapped in the cocoon of his body, my walls still fluttering weakly around his cock, I felt dazed, unsure of everything but that. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

He’d ruined me instead.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Britt

At first,I never saw much of Conall’s two roommates. We would go out to dinner, and back to my place, Conall’s expensive suits draped over the cheap furniture I’d bought with tip money, or his place, only when his roommates were out. Where did they go? I asked once, and he shrugged.

But they were there, often, in the mornings, drinking coffee with us around the breakfast table. Beau and Adrian, teasing each other and flirting harmlessly with me, their eyes flicking to Conall, either for permission, or to test his boundaries, I couldn’t tell.

It wasn’t my business.

Conall had told me so. His pack life and his personal life—me—were separate.

For Conall, it was normal, I guessed, the way they were together, but even as a beta, I knew from my time at Ardor that this wasn’t how most packs lived. I didn’t want to ask—and it wasn’t the kind of thing I really could ask about, anyway, was it—but I attempted to tease out the relationship the three men had in my own way, without the benefit of pheromones and bonds to help me decipher it. Conall had told me they were roommates, and that was true, but I also knew that Beau and Adrian slept together, sometimes, outside of Beau’s heats, and I’d walked in on them kissing in the kitchen once, Adrian’s hands snugged into Beau’s back pockets. I never heard the three men call each other by their titles, either alpha or omega—except in jest, once or twice—but Adrian called Beaubabysometimes.

Then again, he called me baby, too.

“Ask her permission, first,” Conall had said once, upon hearing it, “before you call her that.” He’d looked up from his laptop at where Adrian was sitting in an armchair, fiddling with his phone. My heart had thumped heavily as I looked from alpha to alpha, looking for the joke, but Adrian had just nodded.

“Of course,” he’d said, leveling those emerald green eyes at me. “Britt.”

I nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

“Can I call you baby?” he asked, and I thought,with another pack, I’d be his, too.

I nodded again, hoping my blush wasn’t visible.

I knew it was by the twitch of his lips as he looked away from me, back down at his phone.