Chapter 11: Plague

Chapter

Eleven

PLAGUE

I can't tear my eyes away from Ivy as she stands there, flushed and trembling, her fingers still glistening with her own arousal. The sight of her touching herself while watching us has my spent cock twitching with renewed interest. But more than that, it stirs something deeper.

She deserves better than me.

Better than any of us.

Yet here she is, watching us with those ocean eyes dark with hunger. My failures replay in my mind. How I couldn't protect her, couldn't save her from what she endured. The guilt claws at my chest even now.

I want to claim her.

To mark her as ours.

To show her exactly what two alphas can do to please their omega. To prove I can be worthy of her trust. But I need to be careful. Calculated.

Clinical detachment is my shield, my way of maintaining control when everything threatens to spiral into chaos. This isn't just about physical pleasure. It's about control. About pushing boundaries and seeing how far we can go.

About proving to myself that even if I failed to protect her, I can at least please her.

"Come here, little one," I purr, holding out my hand to her. She hesitates for just a moment before stepping closer, her bare feet silent on the cold stone. I can smell her arousal, sweet and intoxicating. It takes every ounce of self-control not to bury my face between her thighs right then and there.

Instead, I guide her to stand over Whiskey's prone form. He stares up at her with a mixture of awe and lingering embarrassment, his cock already stirring despite having just come.

Alphas and their recovery time.

So predictable.

"Why don't you have a seat?" I suggest, nodding toward Whiskey's face. "I'm sure our friend here would love a closer view, and it'll help him hold still."

Whiskey's eyes widen. "Wait, what?—"

I silence him with a sharp look. "Quiet."

To my delight, Ivy doesn't hesitate. She straddles Whiskey's broad chest, then slowly lowers herself onto his face. The soft moan that escapes her as his tongue makes contact with her core makes me shiver.

"There we go," I murmur, running my hand along her trembling spine. "Nice and still now. We wouldn't want him getting any ideas about moving, would we?"

Ivy shakes her head, her eyes fluttering closed as Whiskey's muffled groans vibrate against her. He's clearly distressed about what I mean by holding him still, but his big hands still come up to clutch her hips, pulling her down onto his face. Ivy gasps and arches her back as Whiskey lavishes attention on her pussy.

"Good boy," I praise him. "You're learning."

I turn my attention back to Ivy, drinking in the sight of her. She's so beautiful like this, lost in ecstasy, her inhibitions stripped away. I want to see how far I can push her. How much she's willing to explore.

"Now then," I say, keeping my voice clinical and detached despite the spike of fresh arousal coursing through me. "I think it's time for a little experiment. You've been so curious about alpha cocks, but have you explored one freely for as long as you'd like?"

She shakes her head, her gaze filled with curiosity.

I gesture to Whiskey's rapidly hardening length before settling behind Ivy and gripping his wrists. "Go on. Touch it. Do whatever you like to it. Anything," I encourage her. "Consider it a hands-on anatomy lesson."

Whiskey tugs against my hands and growls a little. "Anything?" he echoes, his voice muffled by her pussy.

"But first," I say, ignoring him, "could you sit back so he doesn't talk?"

My hands tighten around Whiskey's wrists as Ivy settles back onto his face, cutting off whatever smartass comment he was about to make. His muffled groan vibrates against her core, making her gasp and arch. The sight sends fresh arousal coursing through me despite having just come.

"Good girl," I murmur, keeping my voice clinical and detached even as my cock twitches with renewed interest. "Now he can focus on making himself useful."

Ivy trembles as Whiskey's tongue works between her folds, her thighs clenching around his head. His hands strain against my grip but I hold firm, keeping him pinned. The frustrated growl that rumbles in his chest just makes Ivy moan louder.

"That's it," I encourage her, drinking in every micro-expression that crosses her face. "Show him what you need. Use him."

She rocks her hips, grinding down against his mouth. The movement is hesitant at first, but grows bolder as Whiskey's tongue delves deeper. His cock hardens fully, already recovered and leaking.

I lean in close to Ivy's ear, still maintaining my iron grip on Whiskey's wrists. "Look how hard you make him just by using his mouth," I murmur.

A whimper escapes her as Whiskey redoubles his efforts, clearly spurred on by my words. His muscles strain beneath me and I can feel his pulse racing through his wrists beneath my thumbs, his heart working overtime to compensate for the lack of oxygen. His boots scrabble for purchase on the cave ground as he lets out a muffled growl. But he doesn't try to break free even though I can tell he's having trouble not passing out.

Good. He's learning.

A soft moan from Ivy draws my attention. She's exploring Whiskey's cock with careful curiosity, tracing the prominent veins and ridges. Her small hand wraps around the base, unable to fully encircle his girth. The contrast of her pale fingers against his flushed skin is striking.

"Do you see his knot swelling at your touch?" I encourage, keeping my voice steady despite the sight sending heat and hunger rushing through my body.

Ivy's fingertips brush over his knot. Whiskey's cock twitches and come dribbles from his crown at her touch as he lets out a muffled groan against her pussy. She gasps and squirms in response, grinding against his face. As her hands drift back down his stomach toward his throbbing cock, he arches his back and bucks as much as he can in his precarious position.

"Easy," I murmur, more to Whiskey than to Ivy. "Relax."

Another groan. Whiskey's hips twitch, seeking more contact. Ivy's fingers trail lower, tracing the prominent vein along the underside of Whiskey's cock. Her touch is light, curious. Experimental.

My breath catches as I watch Ivy's delicate fingers explore Whiskey's thick shaft with such innocent curiosity. The way she traces each vein and ridge, mapping his anatomy like she's conducting her own experiment… it stirs something primal and possessive in my chest.

And also something darker.

A thought takes root in my mind as I observe her careful exploration. The way she instinctively knows how to touch him, how to draw those desperate growls from his throat. My cock throbs as I imagine what it would be like to share her. To feel her stretched around both of us at once.

The image sends a fresh wave of heat through my veins. I've always prided myself on control, on cold calculation. But watching her like this makes me want to lose that control completely.

My hands tighten around Whiskey's wrists as Ivy's fingers drift lower, tracing patterns on his inner thighs before returning her attention to his leaking crown. His hips buck desperately, seeking more contact. I can feel his pulse thundering beneath my thumbs.

"Careful," I murmur, keeping my voice steady despite the hunger coursing through me. "He's sensitive there."

She glances back at me, those ocean eyes dark with curiosity. The sight makes my cock throb painfully. I want to tell her exactly what I'm imagining. Want to see if she'd be willing to try it.

But not yet.

I want to enjoy this sight first.

Whiskey lets out a muffled groan as Ivy's hand wraps around him again and she drives down harder against his face. His thighs tremble with the effort of holding still. I can feel the tension coiled in his massive frame, the way he fights against his instincts to thrust up into her grip.

"Good boy," I praise him, knowing how it drives him crazy. "You're learning control."

His growl vibrates against Ivy's core, making her gasp and arch again. The movement draws my eyes to the elegant curve of her spine, the way her borrowed shirts—our shirts—slip off one shoulder to reveal more of her skin.

"Experiment with pressure," I instruct her, my clinical tone belying the heat pooling in my core. "See how he responds to different stimuli."

She obliges, alternating between feather-light touches and firmer strokes. Each variation draws new sounds from Whiskey. Desperate growls and whimpers muffled by her pussy. His hands flex in my grip but he doesn't try to break free.

The power dynamics at play fascinate me. The way our proud, aggressive alpha submits so beautifully when properly motivated. The way our fierce little omega takes such natural control.

It would be so easy to guide her. To show her exactly how to take us both. My cock twitches at the thought of stretching her slowly, carefully, until she's ready.

Until she's begging for more.

"You're doing so well," I tell her, my voice rougher than intended.

Ivy shivers at the praise, her fingers tightening around Whiskey's shaft. Precome beads at his tip, dripping onto his stomach.

My fingers dig into Whiskey's wrists as I watch Ivy explore him with such delicate curiosity. Her small hands map every inch of him, drawing increasingly desperate sounds from his throat. The raw need in those muffled groans as he eats her pussy like his last meal…

"Good," I murmur, maintaining my clinical tone despite the heat pooling in my core. "Note how the vasocongestion increases with direct stimulation."

Whiskey lets out a particularly sharp growl at my academic observations. I know he'd like me to shut up, but pissing him off is part of the fun, and if I'm ruining the mood, he'll last longer. His hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact, but I maintain my iron grip on his wrists. The way his pulse races beneath my thumbs betrays how affected he is by all this.

"Keep him still," I instruct Ivy. "We wouldn't want to ruin such a fascinating experiment, would we?"

My grip tightens on Whiskey's wrists as Ivy grinds down harder against his face, her breath coming in short gasps. The honeysuckle sweetness of her arousal fills my nose, making my head spin. She looks utterly exquisite like this.

Wild and unrestrained.

My breath catches as I watch Ivy rock her hips, pressing herself more firmly against Whiskey's eager mouth. Her head falls back, exposing the elegant line of her throat as a soft moan escapes her parted lips. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

I can feel Whiskey straining against my grip, desperate to touch her, to pull her even closer. But I maintain my iron hold on his wrists, relishing the way his pulse races beneath my thumbs.

"That's it," I murmur, my voice rougher than I intend. "Show him exactly what you need."

Ivy's eyes flutter open at the sound of my voice, locking onto mine. The raw hunger I see there makes my cock throb painfully. She holds my gaze as she grinds down harder, her movements growing more desperate. I can only imagine how Whiskey's tongue must feel, lapping and probing at her most sensitive areas.

A particularly loud moan escapes her, and I have to bite back a groan of my own. The way she moves, so uninhibited and free... it's intoxicating. I want to memorize every detail. The flush spreading across her chest, the way her fingers grip Whiskey's thighs for leverage in between grabbing at his cock again, the little gasps and whimpers that fall from her lips with each roll of her hips.

Whiskey lets out another muffled growl, the vibrations clearly intensifying Ivy's enjoyment of his precarious situation judging by the way she arches her back. His hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction, but I tighten my grip on his wrists in warning.

"Focus," I command him, though my own voice shakes slightly. "Make her feel good."

He responds with renewed vigor, and Ivy cries out, her thighs trembling on either side of Whiskey's head. I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he devours her, clearly savoring every drop of her arousal. The wet sounds of his eager mouth fill the cave, mingling with Ivy's breathless moans and my own ragged breathing. Her shaky hand, sticky with Whiskey's come, flies up to cover her mouth and muffle her cries as she continues rocking and squirming on Whiskey's face.

I'm mesmerized by the way Ivy moves, the fluid grace of her body. She's a goddess astride her willing supplicant, taking exactly what she needs. The power she wields over us both is intoxicating.

"Beautiful," I breathe, unable to keep the awe from my voice. "You're doing so well, little one. Show us how good it feels."

My praise seems to spur her on. She grinds down harder, her movements growing more frantic. I can see the tension coiling in her body, the way her toes curl against the cave floor. She's close—so close—and I'm desperate to see her fall apart.

"What a good girl," I encourage her in a rough whisper, my clinical detachment slipping further with each passing second. It's killing me to not touch my aching cock, but that would mean letting go of Whiskey's arms. I have a higher purpose right now than self-fulfillment. "Let go. Come for us, Ivy."

Her eyes lock onto mine again, and the intensity I see there nearly undoes me. She's flushed and panting, her hair a wild tangle framing her face.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

With a final, sharp cry only partially muffled by her hand, Ivy's orgasm crashes over her. Her body goes taut, thighs clamping around Whiskey's head as she shudders through the waves. I drink in every detail—the way her lips part on a silent scream, the arch of her back, the trembling of her limbs.

Whiskey groans against her, clearly struggling for air but unwilling to stop pleasuring her. His hips buck wildly, seeking any kind of friction. I know he must be aching for release, but I maintain my iron grip on his wrists. This isn't about him. Not yet. He can wait.

As Ivy's climax begins to ebb, she slumps forward slightly, catching herself on Whiskey's broad torso. Her eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide. A lazy, satisfied smile curves her lips as she looks up at me.

"Holy… shit," she murmurs, her voice husky and raw.

The simple words send a jolt of electricity through me. I want to pull her close, to kiss her senseless, to show her exactly how much she affects me. But I hold back, clinging to the last shreds of my self-control.

"You did beautifully," I tell her instead, keeping my voice steady despite the hunger raging inside me. "How do you feel?"

She considers for a moment, then grins. "Like I want more."

Her boldness catches me off guard, and I can't help but chuckle. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

Ivy's eyes dance with mischief. "You're the one who wanted to experiment. Shouldn't we be thorough?"

The challenge in her voice sets my blood on fire.

Oh, the things I want to do to her...

The ways I want to take her apart and put her back together again...

"You're absolutely right," I purr, unable to keep the predatory edge from my voice. "We've only just begun."

My mind races with possibilities as I drink in the sight of Ivy, flushed and trembling. The hunger in her eyes stokes the fire burning in my veins. I want to push her further, to see just how much she can take.

"Tell me, little one," I purr, my voice low and controlled despite the need thrumming through me. "Do you think you could handle both of us at once?"

Ivy's eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering across her features. "Do you mean… both of you inside me?" she asks carefully. "Is that even possible?"

The innocence in her tone sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I lean in closer, my breath ghosting over her ear. "We can try," I murmur. "And if it's too much, one of us can always use your other hole."

A deep blush spreads across her cheeks at my words. I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers the possibilities. Her teeth worry at her lower lip, a gesture that makes my cock throb with renewed interest.

"I want to try," she says finally, her voice soft but determined.

"Are you sure?" I ask softly. "It might hurt."

She hesitates, then nods.

I don't have to be convinced further.

My hands tremble slightly as I guide Ivy into position over Whiskey's prone form. Her skin is flushed as she glances with wary hunger at our hard cocks, a light sheen of sweat making her glow in the dim light. She's so tiny compared to us. I drink in every detail, committing it to memory.

"Easy now," I murmur, my voice low and controlled despite the hunger raging through me. "We'll go slow."

Whiskey's chest heaves as he gulps in air, his face slick with Ivy's arousal. His honey-brown eyes are dark with a mixture of lingering embarrassment and renewed hunger as Ivy settles over his hips. His cock stands rigid, already recovered and leaking.

I position myself behind Ivy, my chest pressed against her back. The heat of her skin burns through the layers of borrowed shirts she's wearing. My cock throbs almost painfully, but I force myself to focus.

This isn't about me.

It's about her.

About pushing limits.

About control.

My turn will come.

"Are you ready?" I ask, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

She nods, a soft whimper escaping her as I guide her hips down. The head of Whiskey's cock presses against her entrance, already slick from her previous orgasm and his eager tongue. I hold her steady as she sinks down, taking him inch by inch.

Whiskey lets out a strangled groan, his hands flexing uselessly against the stone floor. "Fuck," he hisses through clenched teeth. " Fuck ."

I can feel the tension in Ivy's body as she adjusts to the stretch. Her breath comes in short gasps, head falling back against my shoulder.

"You're doing so well," I praise her, my voice rough with need. "Just relax."

When she's fully seated on Whiskey's cock, his swollen knot bumping against her folds, I line myself up. The angle is awkward, but I manage to press the head of my cock against her stretched entrance and it slides in just enough alongside Whiskey's shaft.

She tenses, a soft cry escaping her lips.

"Shh," I soothe, stroking her sides. "We've got you. Tell us if it's too much."

She nods, whimpering again, digging her nails into Whiskey's broad chest for purchase. He grunts, eyes rolling back into his head as she draws beads of blood on his flushed tan skin.

Slowly, so slowly, I push forward. The tight heat engulfs me, made even tighter by Whiskey's massive cock already filling her. It takes every ounce of self-control not to thrust in hard and fast. Not to take and claim. Instead, I ease in carefully, giving her time to adjust with each inch.

Ivy's fingers scrabble against Whiskey's chest before grabbing at my thighs, her body trembling between us. Whiskey shakes beneath her, his jaw clenched tight as he fights for control. I can see the strain in every line of his body, the way his muscles cord with the effort of holding still.

"That's it," I murmur, pressing soft kisses along Ivy's neck. "You're taking us so well."

When I'm finally halfway seated inside her alongside Whiskey, we all freeze. The sensation is overwhelming. Tight, hot, perfect. Ivy's inner walls flutter around us, adjusting to the stretch. I can feel Whiskey's cock pulsing against mine, his knot throbbing and hot.

"Move," Ivy gasps after a long moment. "Please."

I roll my hips experimentally, drawing a chorus of moans and growls from all three of us. The friction is exquisite, unlike anything I've ever felt before. Whiskey bucks up slightly, his self-control finally snapping.

"Easy," I growl at him. "Let her set the pace."

He snarls in frustration but stills his hips. Ivy starts to move, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down. The drag of her tight heat along our cocks sends delicious sparks shooting through me. I grip her hips, guiding her movements.

"Good girl," I praise her. "Just like that."

As Ivy finds her rhythm, bouncing between us with increasing confidence, I lose myself in the sensations. The slick slide of her around us, the way her body trembles with each thrust, the soft cries and whimpers falling from her lips.

It's nothing short of intoxicating.

Whiskey's hands come up to grip Ivy's thighs, his fingers digging into her milky skin. I can see the battle for control raging in his eyes, the way he fights against his instincts to thrust up hard and fast. But he follows my lead, letting Ivy dictate the pace.

"Look at you," I murmur in Ivy's ear, my voice rough with need. "Taking both of us so perfectly. Such a good girl."

She moans in response, her head falling back against my shoulder. I take the opportunity to trail kisses along her exposed neck, tasting the salt of her sweat on my tongue. My hands roam over her body, mapping every curve and plane.

I ease deeper into Ivy's tight heat, relishing in the feeling of Whiskey's thick shaft pulsing against mine as I slowly push forward.

The sensation is exquisite torture.

Her slick inner walls clenching around us both, squeezing us together…

I grit my teeth, fighting for control as I sink in inch by agonizing inch.

"That's it," I murmur against Ivy's ear, but it comes out more as a growl. "You're taking us so well. Such a good girl."

She whimpers, her body trembling and shaking violently between us as I bottom out. My knot crushes against Whiskey's, the friction sending sparks shooting up my spine.

Ivy cries out, her back arching at a sharp angle as she's stretched to her limit, her head slamming back against my shoulder. I wrap my arms tightly around her, pinning her in place against my chest so she doesn't hurt herself. She quakes in my arms, clawing at me, panting, whimpering, one of her breasts bouncing loose from the borrowed shirts. Her silky breast and pebbled nipple rub deliciously against my forearm.

"Fuck," Whiskey groans beneath us, his strong chest heaving. Crimson scratches, some of them bleeding slightly, mark his torso everywhere Ivy's been able to reach. "So… so fucking tight."

I can feel every twitch and pulse of his cock against mine. The heat and pressure is almost unbearable. I have to pause, panting against Ivy's neck as I struggle to maintain my composure. If I'm not careful—if we're not careful—we're going to tear her apart.

My hand slides down her flat stomach, my fingers dancing over the bulge where our cocks are stretching her so fully. I trace the outline with my fingers, marveling at how much she's taking, and when I realize I can feel my hand through her trembling flesh, I can't resist the urge to press in gently.

A strangled cry escapes Ivy's lips as my fingers press against her lower abdomen, tracing the outline of our cocks stretching her impossibly wide. My other hand flies up to cover her mouth, muffling her cries before she attracts any unwanted attention from the other alphas in the cave.

The sensation is intoxicating. Feeling the heat of her skin, the slight give as I apply pressure, the way I can actually feel the ridges and veins of our shafts through her flesh.

"Fascinating," I murmur, my clinical tone belied by the roughness in my voice. "Can you feel this, little one?"

"Oh god," she whimpers against my palm, her nails digging into my thigh. "I can... I can feel you touching yourselves through me..."

I stroke firmly along the visible bulge, marveling at how clearly I can make out our shapes. Ivy writhes between us, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around our cocks. The added pressure is exquisite.

Beneath us, Whiskey lets out a guttural groan. His hips buck upwards involuntarily, driving us both deeper. "Fuck... what are you doing to us?"

I smirk, though neither of them can see it. "Merely conducting an experiment on internal pressure and tactile sensation." My fingers dance lower, pressing more firmly.

"Shut the fuck up and move," Whiskey snarls, but there's no real heat behind it. His cock throbs against mine, hot and insistent as he grips Ivy's hips, helping me pin her in place on our cocks.

I press my fingers more firmly against Ivy's lower abdomen, feeling the outline of our cocks through her flesh. The sensation is almost too much for me, too, not just her. Her soft skin yielding under my touch, the hard ridges of our shafts clearly defined as we throb inside her. Ivy whimpers against my palm, her body trembling violently as we hold her still.

"Shall we begin?" I purr.

Without waiting for a response, I start to move. Slowly at first, easing out just an inch before pressing back in. The drag of her tight heat around us is exquisite. Whiskey groans beneath us, his hips twitching upwards.

I growl hoarsely in her ear. "Good girl…"

Her breasts, still resting on my forearm, heave with every ragged breath as I increase my pace gradually, each thrust a little harder, a little deeper. Her muffled cries and whimpers vibrate against my palm as I fuck into her alongside Whiskey. My fingers trace the bulge in her belly, following the path of our thrusts as we slide in and out of her tight channel, her inner walls clenching and fluttering around us and squeezing our cocks tighter.

It's the most delicious ache I've ever felt.

"Look how well she takes us," I pant, addressing Whiskey. "So eager, so willing…"

Whiskey snarls in response, his hands gripping Ivy's hips hard enough to bruise as he starts thrusting up in earnest. The force of his movements drives her back against my chest, impaling her further on our cocks, the bulge of his crown through her soft skin thrusting into my palm.

I match his rhythm, pounding into her relentlessly. Ivy screams against my hand, her body writhing between us as we fuck her with increasing fervor. Her nails rake down my thighs, leaving stinging trails in their wake. The pain only spurs me on.

"That's it, little one," I growl in her ear. "Take it all. Show us how much you love being stuffed full of alpha cock."

My free hand continues to stroke along her distended abdomen, marveling at how I can feel our movements through her flesh. With each thrust, I press down slightly, adding to the pressure, stroking us off through her even as the sensation makes my see stars until my consciousness fizzles in and out.

Ivy bucks wildly in response and bites me with a savage growl.

The sharp sting of Ivy's teeth sinking into my palm sends a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. I growl low in my throat, tightening my grip on her face as she thrashes between us. The metallic taste of my own blood fills my mouth as I bite down on my lip, desperately clinging to the last shreds of my control.

But it's slipping away with each roll of her hips, each clench and flutter of her inner walls around our cocks.

"Fuck," I hiss through gritted teeth, my hips snapping forward with bruising force. The wet heat of her pussy is heaven in spite of the ache from how tightly she's gripping us, stretching impossibly wide to accommodate us both. "That's it, little one. Take it all."

My free hand presses harder against her lower abdomen, pushing against the outline of our cocks. Ivy's muffled screams of blissful agony vibrate against my palm as I increase the pressure, essentially jerking us both off through her body. Her teeth dig deeper into my hand, drawing blood, but the pain only fuels my frenzy. I twist my other hand to press my fingertips against her clit, rubbing it in rapid circling strokes as I grind against the bulge of our cocks with the heel of my palm.

"Can you feel that?" I growl in her ear, my voice rough with need. "Feel how full you are? How we're reshaping you from the inside out?"

She nods frantically, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Whether from the pain or the pleasure, I can't tell. Probably both. The sight of her completely wrecked between us, taking us both so perfectly, nearly undoes me.

I redouble my efforts, pressing harder as I jerk us off through her trembling flesh. The added friction is maddening. I can feel every vein and ridge of Whiskey's cock sliding against mine as we pound into her relentlessly. My knot aches where it's crushed against his, leaving little room for movement other than harsh thrusting.

Ivy's teeth finally release my hand as a particularly sharp cry escapes her. I quickly clamp my palm back over her mouth, muffling her screams.

"Shh," I murmur in her ear, my voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "You don't want the others to hear, do you? To come investigate and see you split open on our cocks like this?"

She shakes her head frantically, but her pussy clenches around us at my words. Interesting. I file that information away for later.

My vision blurs, consciousness fading in and out as the storm of ecstasy builds to almost unbearable levels. But I force myself to focus. To memorize every detail.

I want to remember all of it.

Need to remember.

Because this... this is perfection.

Whiskey's hips buck up harder, driving us both deeper. Ivy cries out against my palm, her nails raking down my thighs before scrabbling on Whiskey's chest and stomach instead, grabbing at him for purchase.

" Fuck ," Whiskey groans, gripping her harder. "So fucking tight. Can't... can't hold back much longer."

I growl in response, increasing the pressure of my hand on our omega's abdomen. I can feel our knots beginning to swell, stretching her entrance impossibly wider even though we're not inside her at the same time.

We need to be.

I'm going to snap if I don't knot her.

"Not yet," I grit out, though I'm dangerously close to the edge myself. "Make it last."

Ivy writhes between us, her body trembling violently. Her pussy clenches rhythmically around our cocks, fluttering and pulsing as another orgasm builds. My fingers work faster on her swollen clit, determined to push her over the edge before we lose control.

"That's it," I murmur in her ear, my voice rough with need. "Come for us. Show us how much you love being stuffed full of our cocks. Be a good girl."

Ivy's whole body goes rigid at my words, her back arching at a sharp angle. A muffled scream tears from her throat as her orgasm crashes over her. Her inner walls clamp down on us like a vice, pulsing and fluttering frantically as she comes undone.

The added pressure is almost too much. But I fight it back, determined to make this last as long as possible.

Whiskey isn't so lucky. With a strangled roar, he bucks up hard enough to shove Ivy against my chest, driving impossibly deeper. His cock pulses against mine as he starts to come, flooding her already stuffed channel with hot spurts. I grit my teeth, desperately clinging to the last shreds of my control.

But it's a losing battle.

Ivy writhes between us, overstimulated and desperate. Her teeth find my hand again, biting down hard enough to draw more blood. It's enough to push me over the edge.

With a growl, I give in to the inevitable. My hips snap forward erratically as my orgasm tears through me. It crashes over me in overwhelming waves as I empty myself inside her alongside Whiskey. I don't know how I have anything left to give her, but I do.

Our combined release is too much for Ivy's overstretched channel. Come leaks out around our still-pulsing cocks, dripping down onto Whiskey's stomach in thick rivulets.

I continue grinding against her stomach, stroking us both through the aftershocks. Each pulse sends sparks shooting through my oversensitive nerves.

But I can't stop.

Don't want to stop.

Ivy trembles violently between us, soft whimpers escaping despite my hand still clamped over her mouth. Tears streak down her flushed cheeks as her eyes roll back into her head, her body going boneless in my arms.

I should stop. Should pull out and let her recover. But the feeling of her stretched around both of us is too intoxicating to give up just yet.

So I keep moving, slower now but no less intense. My hand continues to work over the outline of our softening cocks. I can feel every twitch and pulse as we empty the last of our release into her, her belly swelling slightly from the come we've pumped into her.

"Beautiful," I murmur, my voice hoarse.

Ivy moans against my palm, her body still trembling with aftershocks. I slowly release her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

"You did so well," I praise her softly. "Such a good girl for us."

She lets out a shaky breath, sagging back against my chest. Her heart races against our cocks, her pulse fluttering wildly beneath my hands.

Whiskey's own hands come up to stroke her thighs, then her sides, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. "You okay, wildcat?" he asks huskily.

She nods weakly, though I can see the strain in her eyes.

We've pushed her to her absolute limits and beyond.

Good.

That was the point of this experiment, after all.

To see just how much she could take.

How far we could push her.

And she exceeded every expectation.

But we're still not done. And I can tell from the hungry way she looks at me from under her lashes as she glances back over her shoulder that she isn't done, either.

"What do you think?" I murmur, my breath tickling her ear. "Do you think you can take our knots?"

She shakes her head weakly. "Not… not there," she whispers breathlessly. "But maybe…"

"Maybe what?" I press, stroking her full belly. She squirms against my hands, panting, arching into my touch as aftershocks rock through her again, making her shiver on our cocks. "Are you asking us to knot you in both holes?"

A shaky nod. My cock twitches inside her at the admission.

"Good girl," I praise. "So eager to please us."

Whiskey's eyes go wide as he processes her words. "Holy shit," he breathes. "Are we really gonna...?"

I nod, already planning the logistics in my head. "We'll need to be careful. Strategic. Your cock is very slightly shorter, but thicker than mine, and if you're on top, she'll be crushed beneath us," I explain. "It makes the most sense for you to stay in her pussy while I take her ass."

Whiskey swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He rakes a hand through his chestnut hair. "Fuck. Okay. Yeah."

I turn my attention back to Ivy, stroking her sides soothingly. "Are you sure about this, little one? It's going to hurt. And not just a little bit."

She nods again, more firmly this time. "I want it," she whispers. "Please."

The naked need in her voice makes my cock throb. "You certainly don't need to say please," I say hoarsely, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "We'll go slow. I'll get you ready first."

With utmost care, I begin to ease myself out of her pussy. She whimpers at the loss, her inner walls clenching around our cocks as if trying to keep me inside. There's a slick, wet pop when I fully withdraw myself, and the cool air from the surrounding cave stings against my throbbing cock. It aches where I ground against Whiskey's shaft, but none of that matters.

Not when she's about to go through something much more intense.

I guide her forward until she's laying on Whiskey's padded belly and broad chest, her trembling legs—sticky with come—straddling his muscular thighs.

"Hold her still," I instruct Whiskey. "We don't want her thrashing and hurting herself."

Whiskey grunts in acknowledgment and his massive arms wrap around Ivy's smaller frame, pinning her in place. She squirms and adjusts her position, wincing as her stomach presses against Whiskey's. She must be so full, so sore from our cocks thrusting at once inside her. The sight of her, so tiny against his bulk—like a doll in the arms of a giant beast—sends another surge of heat through me.

I position myself behind her, drinking in the view. Her ass is pert and round, perfectly framed by Whiskey's thighs. His cock is still buried to the hilt inside her, stretching her pussy wide. Her folds glisten with our combined release where she's joined to the other alpha.

"So perfect," I murmur, trailing my fingers along the curve of her ass. She shivers and squirms at my touch, at least as much as she can, a soft whimper escaping her.

I dip my fingers into the edge of the well of her pussy, coating them in the slick mixture of our come and her arousal. Then my fingers begin to circle Ivy's puckered entrance, spreading our mingled fluid like lubricant. She tenses at first, a soft whimper escaping her lips. I can feel the tight ring of muscle fluttering beneath my touch, virgin and untried.

"Relax," I murmur, keeping my voice low and soothing. "It will hurt, but I'll be gentle. Just breathe, and if it's too much, say no."

"I won't say no," she mumbles into Whiskey's chest, still so proud despite her precarious position. His cock is still buried deep inside her pussy, twitching with each brush of my fingers against her other entrance. She must be clenching around him.

I continue my ministrations, tracing and rubbing slow circles around her rim. Gradually, I feel some of the tension leave her body. Her breathing steadies, falling into a rhythm with my movements.

Good.

The more relaxed she is, the easier this will be.

"That's it," I encourage, letting a hint of praise creep into my voice. I know how it affects her. "You're doing so well."

A shiver runs through her at my words, her hole twitching.

When I feel she's ready, I increase the pressure slightly. The pad of my index finger presses more firmly against her entrance, not quite breaching, but letting her feel the possibility of it.

She gasps, her hips jerking in Whiskey's grasp.

"Stay still," I command, my other hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "Let me work."

Whiskey growls low and impatient in his chest.

I shoot him a withering glare. "Behave."

He subsides with a grumble, but I can see the hunger burning in his eyes. The way his hands flex against Ivy's skin, itching to move. To take.

But he restrains himself.

Good boy.

I return my focus to Ivy, to the delicate work at hand. My finger continues its maddening circles, each rotation bringing me closer to her center. Her pulse races in her puckered hole and in her spine beneath my palm. Her breath comes in short, sharp, nervous pants.

"Breathe deeply," I instruct. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

She obeys, her small body expanding with each inhale. As she exhales, I feel some of the tension leave her muscles.

Perfect.

I start applying steady pressure until the very tip of my finger pushes into Ivy's hole. Her breath hitches, a strangled cry escaping her throat. She muffles her own sounds in Whiskey's chest, but she's already shaking violently.

"Shhh," I soothe. "You're alright. Just relax."

"I've got you," Whiskey growls into her fiery hair.

I pause there, unmoving, letting her adjust to the sensation. Beneath her, Whiskey groans in spite of himself. I can only imagine the clenching of her inner walls around his cock as she struggles to accept this new intrusion.

Slowly, so slowly, I increase the pressure.

The tight ring of muscle begins to yield, stretching around the tip of my finger. Ivy gives the sweetest, smallest whimper. And I know she doesn't whimper easily.

"Good girl," I murmur, caressing her back to soothe her.

With agonizing slowness, I work the first knuckle of my finger fully inside her. The heat is incredible, her body gripping me like a vice. I pause there, giving her time to adjust as she trembles and shakes, practically convulsing. I'm sure if Whiskey weren't holding her so tightly, she'd be thrashing against him. The corded muscles in his arms bulge from the effort of keeping her still.

"How does it feel?" I ask, my voice rougher.

"F-full. Strange," Ivy whispers. "It... it hurts, but..."

"But?" I prompt, rotating my finger ever so slightly.

She gasps, her hips jerking. "But good. Oh god, it feels good..."

A smirk tugs at my lips.

I focus on the exquisite tightness gripping my finger. On the way Ivy's body trembles and quakes beneath my touch. On the soft, desperate, feral sounds she makes as I work deeper inside her.

"More," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Please..."

I press forward at her urging, easing my finger in to the second knuckle. Ivy cries out before clamping her palm over her mouth, silencing herself even as her back arches. Whiskey's arms tighten around her like a vise.

"Easy," I murmur. "Breathe through it. The pain will pass."

She nods jerkily.

I begin to move my finger, slowly withdrawing before pressing back in. Each thrust goes a little deeper, a little smoother. Ivy's mewls of pain gradually transform into soft moans.

"Look at you," I breathe, unable to keep the awe from my voice. "Taking it so beautifully."

She whimpers in response, pushing back against my hand even as she clamps down harder around my digit. Seeking more.

"So greedy," I chuckle. "But we need to go slow. I don't want to hurt you."

When I'm satisfied she's adjusted to one finger, I press against her entrance with a second digit. She tenses, a sharp gasp escaping her.

"Relax," I command, my voice low and firm. "You can take it. I know you can."

Slowly, inexorably, I push forward. Her body resists at first, the tight ring of muscle fighting against the intrusion. But I am nothing if not persistent. Inch by agonizing inch, my fingers sink into her depths.

Ivy keens, the sound high and desperate. Her hands scrabble against Whiskey's chest and sides, leaving red trails in their wake. He growls, bucking up into her.

"Fuck," he grunts. "I can feel your fingers through her."

The thought sends a jolt of arousal through me. I curl my fingers slightly, pressing my knuckles against Whiskey's shaft through Ivy's inner wall. His cock twitches in response, separated from my touch by only the thinnest barrier of silky flesh. He groans and bucks, jostling Ivy.

She just whimpers, beyond words now. Her hips move in small, desperate circles, caught between the dual sensations of fullness. I begin to scissor my fingers, stretching her wider. She cries out, but she doesn't ask me to stop.

Doesn't pull away.

Such a good girl.

My fingers work deeper into Ivy's tight heat as I stretch her open, adding the tip of my third digit. She whimpers and squirms, her body trembling. The resistance is intense, her muscles clenching desperately as I press forward with relentless force.

"Breathe," I murmur, my free hand stroking her lower back soothingly. "Relax and let me in."

She nods jerkily, her face buried against Whiskey's broad chest as she quakes like never before. His massive arms hold her firmly in place as I work her open, his body rumbling with deep purrs to soothe our omega as we push her to her limits.

Slowly, so slowly, my third finger sinks in alongside the others.

Ivy lets out a strangled scream, quickly muffled by her own hand. Her body bows, spine arching as she's stretched wider than ever before, the globes of her ass bouncing and quivering against my hand. I pause, giving her a moment to adjust to the increased girth.

"Good girl," I praise softly. "How are you feeling?"

She gasps out, unable to speak. "I… I…"

"Should I continue?" I purr.

My fingers begin to move, thrusting shallowly at first. In and out, twisting and scissoring to stretch her further. With each push, I work a little deeper. Her inner walls clench and relax around me in waves as her body struggles to accommodate the intrusion.

She whimpers, the sound muffled against Whiskey's broad chest. Her hips twitch, caught between pushing back against my fingers and trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. I press my palm more firmly against her spine, holding her steady.

"Stay still," I command softly. "Let me take care of you."

Beneath her, Whiskey groans. His cock twitches inside her pussy, separated from my probing fingers by only the thinnest barrier of flesh. The heat of his shaft radiates through Ivy's inner walls.

My cock throbs, aching to be buried inside her alongside him. But not yet. She's not ready. I have to be careful, methodical. This isn't about my enjoyment. It's about seeing how much she can take.

Proving I can be worthy of her trust.

I curl my fingers, seeking that spot that will make her see stars. When I find it, her whole body goes rigid and she lets out an animalistic cry only partially quieted by her hand.

"There we go," I purr, stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves from the other side. "Good girl. Does that feel nice?"

She nods frantically, her fiery hair a wild tangle across Whiskey's chest. I continue my work, alternating between stretching her wider and stimulating that spot that makes her shake and moan.

Whiskey bucks beneath her, clearly struggling to maintain control. I growl at him in warning, but I understand his desperation. The sight of Ivy writhing between us, taking us both so beautifully... it's almost too much even for me. I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her, to feel her stretched around my cock.

But I resist the urge.

This has to be perfect.

I focus on the task at hand, on the exquisite tightness gripping my fingers. On the way Ivy's body yields to me, opening up under my careful touch. On the soft, desperate whimpers and mewls she makes with each thrust and twist of my fingers.

"Such a brave, good girl," I murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of her spine.

She whimpers at the praise, her inner walls clenching around my fingers. I can feel her pulse racing, her heart thundering against my palm where it rests on her back. Every inch of her trembles, caught between pleasure and pain, between wanting more and feeling overwhelmed.

I work a fourth finger in alongside the others, stretching her impossibly wider. The added girth draws another sharp cry from her and her muscles lock up more than ever.

"Shh," I soothe, my free hand stroking her hip. "Breathe through it. The pain will pass."

She nods jerkily, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she hyperventilates. I can see the tension in every line of her body, the way she fights against the instinct to pull away. Fights against the instinct to tell me to stop.

Such strength.

Such determination.

My beautiful, fierce little omega.

I hold still, giving her time to adjust. Beneath her, Whiskey groans and growls, his hips twitching upward involuntarily. The movement jostles Ivy again as she straddles his bulk, driving my fingers deeper. She keens, the sound high and desperate.

"Easy," I growl at Whiskey. "Control yourself."

He snarls in frustration but stills his hips. His hands grip Ivy's waist, fingers digging into her soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. The sight sends a possessive thrill through me. I want to mark her too, to leave my own imprint on her perfect skin.

But not yet.

First, I have to make sure she's ready.

I begin to move my fingers again, slowly withdrawing before pressing back in. Each thrust goes a little deeper, a little smoother, until her ass is taking all four of my fingers and half my hand. It's all that will fit. Ivy's body yields to me, accepting the intrusion with growing eagerness. Her pained whimpers transform into breathy moans.

The thought of how it will feel when I'm finally buried inside her alongside him makes my head spin.

"There we go," I murmur, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice. "You're opening up so beautifully for us."

She pushes back against my hand, seeking more in spite of what must be discomfort at the very least. The movement drives Whiskey deeper inside her pussy, drawing a strangled moan from him. His cock twitches against my fingers as he rolls his hips, and I punish him for moving without permission by turning my knuckles against his crown and pressing hard.

He jerks and hisses through his clenched teeth.

But he stops.

I redouble my efforts, determined to stretch her as thoroughly as possible. My fingers move in a steady rhythm, thrusting and twisting, scissoring and curling. I map every inch of her, committing each reaction, every spot that earns a gasp and cry, to memory. The full-body shudder that runs through her when I graze my teeth against the curve of her ass.

Every response is catalogued, analyzed, filed away for future reference.

"P-please," Ivy whimpers, her voice raw and desperate. "I need... I can't..."

"What do you need, little one?" I ask, though I know the answer.

I want to hear her say it.

Need to hear her beg for it.

She squirms, pressing her ass back against my hand. "Please. Knot me…"

I withdraw my fingers slowly, savoring the sight of Ivy's stretched hole fluttering and gaping open from all the training I just put her through. A primal hunger burns through me at the view.

She's ready.

Positioning myself behind her, I press the head of my cock against her puckered entrance. Ivy whimpers, her body tensing in anticipation. With steady pressure, I begin to sink inside. The tight ring of muscle resists at first, then yields. My crown pops past the barrier and Ivy lets out a hoarse wail muffled by Whiskey's chest, her back arching sharply.

"Shh," I soothe, stroking her hip. "You're doing so well. Just relax."

Inch by agonizing inch, I push deeper. The heat and pressure are exquisite, unlike anything I've felt before. Ivy's inner walls clench and flutter around me as her body struggles to accommodate my girth. She pants, bordering on hyperventilating, convulsing every time I ease in even a fraction. Beneath her, Whiskey groans, no doubt feeling each twitch and pulse through the thin barrier separating us.

"Fuck," he grunts, his hips jerking upward involuntarily. "So tight..."

I growl a warning to him, gripping Ivy's hips to keep her steady as Whiskey's movement jostles her. "Hold still," I mutter.

He groans like I'm killing him.

I continue my slow descent, relishing each whimper and gasp that falls from Ivy's lips. Her hands scrabble against Whiskey's skin, leaving red trails in their wake, but all she can do is writhe in place, her thighs shaking violently.

When I'm fully seated, my knot pressing insistently against her stretched rim, I pause.

Let her adjust.

Let myself adjust.

The velvety heat gripping my cock, the way I can feel Whiskey's shaft pulsing against mine through Ivy's inner walls, the trembling of her small frame caught between us… it's overwhelming, and it's taking every ounce of control I have to not let loose, to not let my baser instincts take over.

"What a good girl," I murmur, leaning down to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "You're taking us so beautifully. How does it feel?"

Ivy lets out a shaky breath. "Full," she chokes out. "So full. It... it hurts, but..."

"But…?" I prompt, rolling my hips ever so slightly.

She moans, the sound low and desperate. "But good. So good. Please... more..."

Who am I to deny such a polite request?

I begin to move, withdrawing slowly before pressing back in. Each thrust goes a little deeper, a little smoother. Ivy's pained whimpers gradually transform into breathy moans. Beneath her, Whiskey growls, his hips surging upward to meet my thrusts.

"Remember," I pant, struggling to maintain my clinical tone. "We need to knot her at exactly the same time or this won't work. Hold off until I tell you it's time."

Whiskey grunts in acknowledgment, his hands gripping Ivy's waist harder. I match his rhythm, our cocks sliding against each other through the thin barrier of Ivy's inner walls. The friction is maddening, unlike anything I've experienced before.

Ivy writhes desperately between us. I reach beneath her to rub tight circles against her clit. From this angle, I can feel Whiskey's rock-hard shaft pushing hard against my forearm with every thrust, bulging through her swollen stomach and pinning my hand against his padded belly. The pressure on his cock is too much for him to keep still and he starts thrusting with renewed vigor.

For a moment, I'm afraid he's going to hurt her, but our brave girl just grinds harder against us with choked mewls.

"That's it," I growl in her ear. "Show us what a good girl you are."

She cries out, her back arching sharply. The movement drives me deeper, my knot pressing insistently against her stretched rim.

Not yet.

Not until Whiskey's ready too.

I increase my pace, pounding into her relentlessly. Whiskey matches me thrust for thrust, our movements growing more frantic as we chase our release. Ivy's muffled cries spur us on.

"Close," Whiskey grunts, his voice strained. "Fuck, I'm close..."

"Not yet," I snarl, though I'm teetering on the edge myself. "Wait for my signal."

The coil of overwhelming ecstasy blooming in my core winds tighter with each thrust. Sweat drips down my spine as I fight against my instincts, determined to make this perfect. To prove I can be worthy of our omega's trust.

Ivy's inner walls clamp down around us as another orgasm tears through her. The added pressure is almost too much. I grit my teeth, desperately clinging to the last shreds of my control. She's falling apart now, but it won't be long before she tenses up again.

"Now," I growl, my hips snapping forward with bruising force. "Knot her now!"

Whiskey roars, his hips surging upward as his knot swells. I press forward at the same moment, feeling my own knot expand. For a heart-stopping second, I think it won't work. That we've miscalculated, that we've locked ourselves out of her. Or worse, hurt her.

Then Ivy screams into Whiskey's chest, her body going rigid between us, and both our knots pop past her stretched entrances simultaneously. The tight heat engulfs us completely as we lock in place, pumping load after load into her trembling body.

Stars explode behind my eyes and I collapse forward, crushing Ivy between Whiskey and myself as aftershocks wrack my frame. Distantly, I hear Whiskey's guttural groans mixing with Ivy's breathless whimpers.

We lay there, a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, as our knots continue to pulse. I can feel every twitch of Whiskey's cock through Ivy's inner walls, can sense the rapid flutter of her pulse where we're joined.

"Fuck," Whiskey pants, his strong body heaving beneath Ivy. "That was..."

"Indeed," I murmur, struggling to catch my breath.

My mind reels, trying to process the intensity of what we've just experienced. The exquisite tightness of Ivy's body, the way she came undone between us, the sounds she made...

It was beyond anything I could have imagined or planned for.

My knot still pulses inside her in time with Whiskey's, still pumping what little come we have left into her already overfull channels. Her inner walls flutter and clench around us with aftershocks, drawing a low groan from my throat.

We're locked together, the three of us, in the most primal and intimate way possible. The thought sends an unexpected surge of possessiveness through me.

Mine.

Ours.

But we can't stay in this position. Ivy is crushed between us, her small frame dwarfed by our bulk. I can hear her labored breathing, feel the rapid rise and fall of her back against mine.

"We need to move," I say, my voice hoarse. "Roll to the side. Carefully."

Whiskey grunts in acknowledgment. With painstaking care, I begin to shift, pulling Ivy with me. She whimpers at the movement, her body tensing. I stroke her back soothingly, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

"Easy, little one. We've got you."

Whiskey follows our motion, rolling onto his side as well. It's an awkward, ungainly process, made more difficult by the fact that we're both still knotted inside her. But eventually, we manage to settle into a more comfortable position.

We end up facing each other, Ivy sandwiched between us. Her head rests on Whiskey's bicep, her back pressed against my chest. The heat of her flushed skin burns through the layers of borrowed shirts she's still wearing.

My arm drapes over her waist, hand splaying across her lower belly. The swell of her abdomen is more prominent beneath my palm now. She's so full of our come, stretched to her absolute limit in every way. I find myself idly tracing circles on her skin.

"You okay, wildcat?" Whiskey asks, his voice gruff.

Ivy makes a soft sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. "Mhmm," she manages, clearly beyond coherent speech. Not that I'd be able to hear her that well over the ringing in my ears.

I press a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent is intoxicating, honeysuckle sweetness mingled with our muskier alpha scents. The combination makes me dizzier.

"You did so well," I murmur against her skin. "Such a good girl for us."

She shivers at the praise, her inner walls clenching around my knot. The sensation draws a sharp hiss from me, oversensitivity bordering on torture. Whiskey echoes the sound, his hips jerking again, drawing a pained cry from Ivy.

"Fuck, sorry," Whiskey mutters into her hair, stroking her to soothe her.

But the roar from the mouth of the cave freezes us in place.

That particular cry wasn't muffled.

At all.