Chapter Fifty-Eight

Eve

Not even Marcus's special homemade hamburgers can rouse my appetite. Not when I feel this heavy.

It's been an unfortunate cycle: I can't bring myself to eat for hours, sometimes all day, between the false contractions and general ooft -iness that is late pregnancy. And then, suddenly, I'll be so starving I can hardly stand up straight.

I spend some time fidgeting in the nursery. Sometimes just being active is enough to remind the pup that Hey, maybe now would be a good time to let me eat ?

Then again, sometimes it just makes the pup angry.

"Agh—" I grunt, gripping the edge of the crib. A cramp grips my lower stomach, wrapping around my back.

Almost instantly, Marcus appears at the door. "Hey, you," he says, "doing okay?"

"Great," I return.

He gently guides me down onto my yoga ball. The rubber gives just the right amount to my body weight, freeing some of that pressure. I heave a sigh.

"Good job," Marcus murmurs. "Just breathe it out."

Holding Marcus's hand for balance, I swivel around, more frustrated than I am in pain. These false contractions are driving me up the wall. If they're not ruining my appetite, they're making me dizzy, and if they're not making me dizzy, they're making me short of breath. Doesn't exactly bode well for when I actually go into labor.

I notice Marcus's fingers on my wrist, subtly checking.

"I'm not going to faint," I tell him. "I'm just annoyed."

He withdraws, puppy-dog-eyed.

"Not at you," I clarify. "I'm … sorry."

And now there are tears in my eyes. Get it together, Eve.

"Hey." Marcus crouches down. "It's alright. I'm sorry—I should've realized." I sniffle as he rubs my stomach. "It's just a few more weeks, princess. You're doing really, really well."

"I'm so tired," I confess. "Or hungry. I don't know. But these contractions aren't helping."

"Of course they're not," he coos. He stays crouched down, eyes overcast with thought. "I think I know what might help."

"Yeah?"

He helps me up, quickly scanning my features for impending dizziness, before guiding me into the nesting room. "Still feeling tense? Maybe a little achy?"

"Yeah." Suddenly it dawns on me. "Wait. Marcus, I–I really love you, and appreciate you, so much, but if you're about to tell me to try some breathing exercises, I have to warn you—I might actually cry."

He laughs. "Don't worry, no breathing exercises required. What I'm prescribing is much more … vigorous."

I angle my head as he pulls out his phone, trying to sneak a glimpse of his screen. All I can tell is that he's typing a text message—and that it's going to the Maddox alpha group chat. Barely ten seconds after he's hit ‘send', there are footsteps thundering up the stairs. I brace myself, wondering what on earth he could've said to inspire such urgency.

Red arrives first. "For real?" he pants excitedly.

Marcus nods. "I think it's what she needs."

"First," Red blurts out. "I got here first, I'm going first." He strips his shirt and comes right at me, gently but firmly pushing me back onto the bed. For a second I think I feel another cramp coming on, but then he's yanking my shorts down, and my nipples are hardening, and all I feel is arousal.

I'm too hot to do anything but comply as Red drags my shirt over my head. He bullies kisses all down my neck, eagerly finding my naked breasts.

"Jesus." Riley's voice. "It's hardly been a minute and you've already gotten her clothes off."

"Yeah, well—" Red sneaks a grin over his shoulder. "You snooze you lose, Riles."

"He's efficient," I giggle.

"One has to hope he's a little less efficient when he's inside you," Baxter comments, entering the room.

Red snarls, kissing me with more fire. "I can last way longer than a minute."

"Weird brag," Thorn notes, suddenly appearing, "but good for you."

Tearing away for breath, I glance around the room, taking stock of all five of my alphas. "Hang on …" I look at Marcus. "This is why you texted them?"

Marcus shrugs. "It looked like you were a little pent up. Thought we might blow off some steam."

After everything that happened with Marcus, who can still be wary about sexy times, I did not see this coming. A part of me worries he's trying to prove something—to properly bury the hatchet—but it's not like him to take such extremes.

Not unless he really means them.

Suddenly I cringe, another cramp striking me out of nowhere.

"It's okay," Marcus says, surprising everyone. "I think all the tension is just starting to take its toll. She'll feel better once we loosen her up." He blushes. "So to speak."

All eyes are on me. Checking my response.

Though I'm still grappling with that tightening pain, Marcus's words ring true. I am tense, and it's making everything else feel ten times worse. Contractions included.

Slowly, lustily, I nod. "Please. Can we?"

My alphas' restraint dissolves like sauna vapor. They start to undress, a little slower and more deliberately than Red, but with that same hunger in their eyes.

Red rolls his tongue around my left nipple, making me arch. "Fuck, that's hot," he breathes. "Thorn—rub her right there. She needs it so bad."

"Mm?" Thorn slides in behind my head, his pale, chiseled chest most of what I can see. "That true, omega? Need me …" he takes a handful of my breast. "Here?"

I gasp, arching higher.

"Good girl," he purrs.

Satisfied, Red levels his head above my core. "I'm gonna eat you out," he says, "make sure this fertile pussy is nice and wet for my knot."

My inner thighs are already gleaming with anticipation. The words alone send lightening through my clit, but then he actually puts his tongue on it.

Hot. So hot. Like we're on fire.

It's not often Red is the one who eats me out—he's normally too impatient. But lately, so am I. He devours me with that same urgent energy, like he knows this is just the starter and can hardly wait to move on to the main course.

I take a fistful of his hair. Crimson eyes flick up to me, gleaming hotly.

He crawls up my stomach, planting much gentler kisses all around the bump. My hips buck as much as my new body weight will allow, silently begging for someone to please, please fill me.

"Don't leave her hanging," Baxter instructs.

It's all the motivation Red needs, sheathing his cock into me inch after inch. My walls sting, quickly remembering his shape, sucking him all the way in.

"That's it, Red," Marcus purrs, kissing up his packmate's spine. "Deep … and steady."

I can already feel Red's knot start to swell. He's getting off on my alphas' praise almost as much as I am. He's so hard inside me, so uncompromising—letting my walls do all the work of molding around him.

The stimulation is almost too much—Thorn's pressure on my breasts, massaging intently, plus Baxter, Marcus and Riley growling in heated approval, all while Red fucks into me. I catch a glimpse of Riley's underwear, drenched, and want more than anything to rip them off so I can taste her.

"Riley," Thorn rumbles, following my eye.

Her breath hitches, finally slipping free of her waistband. Her pussy glows for me—a pink, molten heat. Baxter and Marcus follow suit, exposing themselves one cock after another.

If my mouth wasn't watering before …

"Go on, little one," Baxter smiles. "You have our permission to touch."

Oh god, where to start? I wrap one hand around Marcus's length and slip two fingers into Riley. I really should've rubbed her first, but she's already so wet, and so sexy, and so—

" Fuck ," Red, Riley, and Marcus groan in unison.

Marcus rocks his hips, meeting my hand's messy rhythm. Riley strokes her clit as my fingers curl up against her walls.

"A–alpha," I pant, noting Baxter is still left out—twitching above me.

"Be patient, omega," he purrs. "Everyone will get their turn."

I growl low in my throat, wanting everything, all of them, all at once. I'm their omega. I can take it.

"Oh god she's tight," Red hisses, "she's trying to milk me so fucking hard."

"Better give her what she wants," Marcus grunts, rocking into my hand a little faster.

Riley shudders, fluttering on my fingers. "Make her come first."

Red whines. I can feel it happening—knot swelling, pressure building, cock twitching. His hips stutter like he doesn't know whether to speed up or slow down.

"Fill me up," I beg, "please—I—it's what I need."

"Want you to come," he groans.

I growl. "Then fill me up ."

Red chokes, slamming hard into me, balls-deep against my pussy. Rope after rope of come fills me up, his knot so swollen I can hardly stand it.

And just like that, I'm coming, too.

Tension peaks on the tip of every nerve in my body, then collapses into waves of pleasure. Every time I think it's over, someone pinches my breasts, or purrs in my ear, and I'm feeling it again, and again, and again.

The first words I'm lucid enough to hear are, "So, you knotted her."

Red breathes hard on top of me. If not for my pup bump, he'd have probably squashed me by now. "Uh-huh."

Riley sighs. " This is why you're never allowed to go first."

"But I called it."

"You can't call sex."

A low rumble sounds from Baxter's chest, silencing them. He cups the side of my face, checking my eyes. "Still with us, little one?"

I try to nod. My head is still in Thorn's lap. "Mm-hm."

Baxter glances at Marcus, who's now leaking in my palm. "Let's give it a few minutes," he grits out.

My inner omega is not quite so patient. I grip Marcus a little harder, determined to finish him off.

"Ah—Eve," he gasps.

"Easy," Thorn says, but his hand on my breast, still rubbing, only spurs me on.

Riley spasms. "Oh," she gasps as my fingers push back in.

No-one has the willpower left to stop me—not that they want to. Marcus's quickening pants and Riley's messy core seem to have all of my alphas distracted. Red hisses as I tighten, my pussy already gearing up for round two.

"O–omega," Marcus says, "omega. Omega , I'm about to come."

"Together," I command. Riley groans assentingly.

They come in beautiful unison, completely surrendered to the mercy of my touch. Marcus gives a long cry, while Riley dissolves into whimpers. Their joint release makes the air sing, pheromones thicker and hotter than blood.

Suddenly Red curses, his hips bucking as much as they can with that knot in place, another load of come pumping into me. He hangs his head, barely able to keep himself upright.

"Breathe," Thorn orders, surprisingly not to me but to Red. He pushes his packmate's hair back, exposing his face. "You did well."

Baxter nods. "You all did."

If they're not careful, that kind of praise will rile up the whole room for round two. Or is it three? It's hard to keep track.

Especially when I still have several more knots to take.