Chapter 1: The Heat That Broke the Study Session
The dorm room smelled like stale coffee and highlighter ink. Derek Hale shifted on the futon, trying to focus on the textbook balanced precariously on his knees. Across from him, Nate Jacobs, all coiled alpha intensity even when sitting still, tapped his pen rhythmically against his own calculus book. Peter Kavinsky, sprawled more comfortably beside Nate, was doodling what looked suspiciously like lacrosse plays in the margin of his notes. The soft, warm glow from Derek’s desk lamp painted long shadows on the walls plastered with band posters.
"Okay, so the derivative of velocity is acceleration, right?" Derek asked, pushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead. His green eyes scanned the page. "Which makes sense… but then why does integrating acceleration get you displacement, not just velocity again?" He frowned, the equation blurring slightly.
Nate grunted, leaning forward. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the space. "Think of it like steps. Velocity is how fast you're changing your position each second. Acceleration is how fast you're changing that speed each second. Integrating acceleration adds up all those tiny speed changes over time to get the total change in velocity."
"Which," Peter chimed in, flashing his signature grin that could disarm a referee mid-penalty, "then you integrate that to add up all the velocity changes and find out how far you actually went. It’s like stacking Legos, dude. Tiny bricks of speed and acceleration."
"Legos? Seriously, Kavinsky?" Nate shot him a look, but there was a hint of amusement in his deep voice.
Peter shrugged, his muscular arm flexing as he stretched. "Hey, whatever makes the math stick. Not all of us speak textbook, Nate." He nudged Derek’s knee with his foot. The casual contact sent a small, unexpected jolt through Derek, warm and pleasant. "Right, Derek?"
Derek’s reply caught in his throat. A different warmth had begun pooling low in his belly, subtle at first, easily dismissed as nerves or the close quarters. But then it intensified, a slow, insistent thrum radiating outwards. His skin felt suddenly too sensitive. The worn fabric of his sweats seemed abrasive. He shifted again, trying to find a cooler patch of the futon.
"Yeah, Legos," Derek managed, his voice a little tight. He forced his eyes back to the textbook, but the numbers swam. The scent in the room changed. Beneath the coffee and old paper, a new aroma bloomed – musky, sweet, undeniably potent. His scent. Heat.
Panic fluttered in his chest. Not now. Not here. Not with them. He clenched his thighs together instinctively. It was too early. Wasn’t it? He tried to calculate dates in his head, but his thoughts felt foggy, syrupy. The warmth between his legs became unmistakable, a slick wetness that soaked into the thin cotton of his sweats. His face flushed crimson. He ducked his head, pretending to be engrossed in an equation.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate and electric. Nate’s rhythmic pen-tapping stopped dead. His head snapped up, nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. His knuckles went white around the pen, his gaze locking onto Derek with laser focus. The easy confidence that usually radiated from him hardened into something fierce, primal. Protective. His jaw clenched, muscles standing out in sharp relief along his neck. A low rumble vibrated in his chest, barely audible beneath the distant thump of music from another room.
Peter inhaled sharply, his playful demeanor evaporating. His eyes, usually bright and mischievous, darkened with a sudden, intense hunger as they fixed on Derek. The doodling hand stilled. The air crackled. He subtly adjusted his position, the prominent ridge of his erection visibly straining against the worn fabric of his sweatpants. His scent shifted too, deepening into something heady and alpha, reacting instinctively to the omega in distress.
Derek felt their gazes like physical heat on his skin. Mortification warred with the rising tide of need the heat was pulling him under. He kept his head down, praying the floor would swallow him whole. "S-Sorry," he stammered, the word thick and clumsy. "I think… I think I need a minute. Or… or maybe you guys should go?" He risked a glance up, his green eyes wide and pleading.
Nate’s voice was a low growl, rough with restraint. "We're not leaving you like this." His protective instinct warred visibly with the alpha urge rising within him. He remained seated, but his posture was rigid, coiled tension radiating from every muscle.
Peter leaned forward, his usual playful grin replaced by a look of smoldering intensity. He didn't touch Derek, but his proximity felt overwhelming. The scent of aroused alpha, mingling with Derek's rising heat, was dizzying. "Go?" Peter breathed, his voice husky. "Derek, look at you. Look at us. Equations are the last thing anyone's solving tonight." His gaze flickered down Derek's body for a fraction of a second, hot and appreciative, before returning to his face. "You're burning up."
Derek whimpered. Peter was right. The heat was cresting now, a wave of pure, desperate need washing away the last dregs of his embarrassment. The slick between his thighs was undeniable, a warm, slippery reality. The scent of it – of him – filled the small room, thick and intoxicating. He saw it reflected in their eyes: Nate’s fierce protectiveness warping into something darker, more possessive; Peter’s playful charm stripped back to raw, primal desire.
Nate finally moved, slowly, deliberately. He placed his textbook aside, the action deliberate and controlled, though his hands trembled slightly. He didn’t push Peter away, but his larger frame subtly shifted, placing himself slightly between Peter and Derek, a silent assertion. His intense gaze never left Derek’s face. "You need…" His voice was thick. "What do you need, Derek?"
The direct question, the raw intensity in Nate’s eyes, the palpable heat radiating off both alphas, the slick warmth coating his thighs… it shattered Derek's last resistance. The shyness, the fear of imposition, the awkwardness – consumed by the biological imperative roaring through his blood. He wasn’t just comfortable now; he was ready. He met Nate’s gaze, his own green eyes wide, dilated, and filled with a need that mirrored theirs. He didn't speak. Instead, he reached out, his hand trembling only slightly, and placed it flat against Nate’s broad chest, feeling the powerful thud of the alpha’s heart beneath his palm. Then, turning slightly, he mirrored the gesture against Peter’s equally hard torso, his touch lingering, an unspoken invitation crackling in the charged air. He leaned back slightly, opening himself to them both, his flushed face tilted up, his breath coming in short, soft gasps. The silent question hung between them, heavy and electric: This. Now.
Nate moved first. A low growl vibrated in his chest, primal and possessive, as his large hand covered Derek’s where it rested on his pec. His other hand slid behind Derek’s neck, fingers tangling roughly in the dark hair at his nape, pulling him close. Not harsh, but undeniable. His breath, hot and heavy, fanned Derek’s lips. The clean, sharp scent of alpha dominance – pine and cold stone – intensified, clashing and mingling with Derek’s sweet, cloying heat scent.
"Need you," Nate rasped, the words thick and guttural, stripped bare of his usual controlled intensity. His forehead pressed against Derek’s, the contact searing. "Can't think."
Peter wasn't idle. While Nate claimed Derek’s upper body, Peter surged forward on the futon, his strong hands finding Derek’s hips. He pulled, effortlessly shifting Derek onto his lap, the omega’s back pressed flush against Peter’s broad, defined chest. The hard ridge of Peter’s cock pressed against the cleft of Derek’s ass through the soaked fabric of his sweats.
"Damn, Derek," Peter breathed against the sensitive shell of his ear, his voice husky with a mix of amusement and raw hunger. His hands slid under the hem of Derek’s worn t-shirt, warm palms gliding possessively over the smooth, heated skin of his abs and chest. "Burning alive, aren't you? Smells like heaven finally cracked open." He nuzzled Derek’s neck, inhaling deeply, sending fresh shivers cascading down the omega’s spine.
The dual assault was overwhelming. Nate’s fierce, focused intensity held him captive. Peter’s playful, sensual invasion stoked the fire raging inside him. Derek gasped, arching back into Peter’s solid heat while pushing forward instinctively into Nate’s anchoring presence. He was pinned between them, a shivering, slick mess, every nerve ending screaming for more. His sweats were soaked, clinging obscenely, the musky scent of his readiness thick in the air.
Nate’s mouth found his, not asking, taking. The kiss was deep, demanding, tasting of mint and pure alpha need. Derek moaned into it, opening eagerly, his hands scrabbling against Nate’s impossibly hard shoulders, then sliding around his neck. Nate’s grip on his hair tightened possessively.
Peter chuckled, the sound a low rumble against Derek’s back. One hand drifted lower, palming Derek’s hip, the other slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats at the front. "Easy there, Big Guy," Peter murmured, though his own breathing was ragged. "Let the man breathe." But his hand continued its exploration, fingers tracing the outline of Derek’s cock through the wet cotton of his boxers, drawing a sharp, keening whine from the omega that vibrated against Nate’s mouth.
Nate finally broke the kiss, breathing harshly. His eyes, dark pools of molten intensity, locked onto Derek’s. "Clothes. Off. Now." It wasn't a suggestion. His hands were already tugging at Derek’s t-shirt.
Peter, ever the opportunist, helped, his fingers joining Nate’s in peeling the damp fabric up Derek’s torso. Cool air hit Derek’s heated skin, making him gasp. The shirt was discarded somewhere on the floor. Peter’s hands immediately returned, skimming over Derek’s flushed chest, thumbs brushing over his peaked nipples, making him cry out and writhe.
Nate’s focus shifted lower. His large hands settled on the waistband of Derek’s sweats and boxers. Derek lifted his hips instinctively, a needy sound escaping him. Nate pulled both down in one swift motion, baring Derek completely to the lamplit room. The scent of slick intensified, sharp and intoxicating. Derek instinctively tried to close his legs, flushed with sudden vulnerability, but Peter’s strong hands on his thighs held him open, spreading him wider on the alpha’s lap.
"Look at you," Peter breathed, his voice thick with awe and desire. His gaze raked over Derek’s exposed body – the flushed skin, the hard cock weeping against his belly, the glistening evidence of his heat pooling where he sat. Peter’s own erection pressed insistently against Derek’s exposed backside. "Perfect fucking mess."
Derek whimpered, beyond words, the last shreds of shyness incinerated by the overwhelming need and the heat of their shared gaze. Nate’s expression was fierce, possessive, his jaw clenched tight as he took in the sight. He leaned down, his breath hot on Derek’s skin, scenting him from collarbone to hip. His rough cheek grazed the sensitive skin of Derek’s inner thigh.
Peter bent his head, nipping lightly at the juncture of Derek’s neck and shoulder. "What do you need, Derek?" he whispered, echoing Nate’s earlier question, but with a teasing, sensual edge. "Tell us." His hand slid firmly up Derek’s inner thigh, fingertips brushing through the slick warmth, dangerously close to the source.
Derek’s head fell back against Peter’s shoulder, his green eyes hazy, lost. "Please," he gasped, the word trembling. "Alpha... both... please."
Nate didn't hesitate. With a low snarl that was pure instinct, he surged forward, his mouth finding the slick, puffy entrance revealed between Derek’s spread thighs. He licked, a broad, hot stripe that made Derek arch off Peter’s lap with a sharp cry. Nate groaned against him, the vibration ripping through Derek’s core. He licked again, deep and demanding, tasting him fully, his large hands gripping Derek’s hips hard enough to bruise, holding him open and utterly still for his tongue’s invasion.
Peter groaned, tightening his arms around Derek’s chest. "Fuck, Nate," he gasped, grinding his own hard length against Derek’s back. His hands slid possessively over Derek’s heaving chest, pinching a nipple lightly, then soothing it with his thumb. He watched Nate devour Derek, his eyes dark with shared lust. "Look at him... taking you apart."
Derek was shuddering uncontrollably, lost in the dual sensations. Nate’s tongue was relentless, probing, licking deep inside him, setting every nerve ending ablaze. Peter’s hands and mouth on his upper body, the hard press of his cock, the possessive hold – it was too much, not enough. He felt stretched thin, every sensation amplified a thousandfold by the heat raging through him. His own cock throbbed, neglected, precome beading heavily at the tip. Whimpers and half-formed pleas spilled from his lips.
Nate lifted his head, his mouth glistening. His eyes burned with a feral light. He looked at Peter over Derek’s trembling body, a silent, primal communication passing between them. An agreement. A challenge accepted.
With a grunt of effort, Nate shifted, maneuvering Derek forward off Peter’s lap until the omega was kneeling on the futon, facing away from them, supported on his hands and knees. The position left him utterly exposed, vulnerable. Nate positioned himself directly behind him, his large hands gripping Derek’s hips again. Derek heard the frantic rustle of clothing, the sharp intake of breath. He felt the broad, blunt head of Nate’s cock, hot and slick with his own arousal, press firmly against his slick, stretched entrance, nudging against the tight ring of muscle Nate’s tongue had prepared.
Peter moved in front of him, kneeling. He caught Derek’s chin, forcing his head up. Derek looked into Peter’s face, seeing the same raw hunger mirrored there, softened only slightly by that familiar playful spark now turned predatory. Peter leaned in, capturing Derek’s mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, silencing his whimpers. His hands slid down Derek’s body, one wrapping firmly around Derek’s aching cock, the other sliding back to grip his ass cheek, pulling him open wider for Nate.
Nate pushed.
The stretch was immense, burning, perfect. Derek cried out against Peter’s mouth, a sound swallowed by the alpha’s kiss. Nate growled, a deep, possessive sound that vibrated through Derek’s core as he sank in, inch by thick inch, filling him completely. The sensation was overwhelming – a fullness that bordered on pain, a pressure that ignited every nerve, the searing heat of Nate’s body pressed flush against his own. The heat inside Derek roared, welcoming the invasion, demanding it.
Nate paused, buried to the hilt, his breath ragged gusts against Derek’s back. He leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against Derek’s spine, his mouth finding the mating gland at the juncture of Derek’s neck and shoulder. He bit down, not breaking skin yet, but hard. Possessive. Claiming.
Peter broke the kiss, his eyes blazing as he watched Nate’s teeth on Derek’s neck. His hand tightened rhythmically on Derek’s cock. "That’s it," he breathed, his voice rough. "Take him, Nate. He’s ours."
Nate began to move. Slow, deep thrusts that pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in with controlled power. Each drive sent shockwaves through Derek, forcing choked gasps from his throat. Peter stroked him in time with Nate’s thrusts, his grip firm, his thumb swiping over the leaking head on the upstroke. He leaned in again, kissing Derek fiercely, his free hand tangled in Derek’s hair, holding his head still.
Derek was adrift in a sea of sensation. The relentless stretch and drag inside him, the exquisite friction on his cock, the press of Peter’s body and mouth, the sharp sting of Nate’s bite on his neck, the mingled scents of aroused alphas and his own desperate heat – it fused into a single, unbearable point of need. The heat crested with terrifying speed, coiling tight in his belly, pulling him towards the edge with brutal efficiency. He couldn’t hold back. A broken sob escaped him as the orgasm tore through him, violent and consuming. His body clenched hard around Nate’s invading length, spilling hot stripes over Peter’s fist and the futon cover beneath him.
Nate groaned, deep and guttural, at the sudden, vice-like tightening. His thrusts became frantic, losing their rhythm, driving into Derek with abandon, spurred on by the clenching heat and the raw scent of the omega’s release. His teeth pressed harder against Derek’s neck. With one final, brutal thrust, Nate buried himself fully, his body rigid. A ragged shout tore from his throat as he pulsed deep inside, filling Derek with his release, the hot rush triggering another, smaller aftershock from the omega.
Peter watched them, his own breath coming in sharp pants, his hand still working Derek’s oversensitive cock through the last tremors. He saw the exact moment Nate’s teeth broke skin, the brief flash of pain and then overwhelming pleasure that crossed Derek’s slack, blissed-out face. The scent of blood – Nate’s claiming bite – mingled with the sweat and sex and heat in the cramped room. Peter leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Derek’s, his own need a palpable ache ignored for the moment. He watched Nate’s jaw work, locking the claim onto Derek’s skin.
There was a beat of strained silence, filled only by harsh breathing and the distant thrum of the building’s HVAC. Nate finally eased his bite, licking roughly at the small, bleeding wound on Derek’s neck before collapsing heavily against his back, still buried deep. His arms wrapped possessively around Derek’s waist.
Peter slowly released Derek’s spent cock, his hand coming up to gently trace the fresh bite mark. He met Nate’s exhausted, fiercely triumphant gaze over Derek’s shoulder. A slow, predatory smile spread across Peter’s face. He tilted Derek’s head to the other side, exposing the unmarked juncture of neck and shoulder. His eyes locked onto Nate’s.
"Mine," Peter stated, his voice thick with intent and a challenge Nate didn't refuse. Peter lowered his head. Derek barely registered the sharp sting before the wave of pure, possessive satisfaction washed over him, locking the second claim deep into his bones as Peter’s teeth sank into his flesh.
The second bite hit deeper than Nate’s. Peter’s teeth weren't just claiming; they were anchoring. Derek gasped, a ragged inhale that tasted like sweat and alpha musk. Pain flared, sharp and bright, radiating from the fresh puncture on the opposite side of his neck from Nate’s mark. It wasn’t just skin breaking; it felt like something primal snapping into place deep within his marrow. A wave of dizzying possessiveness, warm and utterly encompassing, crashed over him, washing away the lingering haze of his own orgasm and the burn of Nate’s earlier claiming.
Peter growled against his skin, a low, continuous rumble that vibrated through Derek’s bones. Unlike Nate’s initial fierce possession, Peter’s hold felt different – still dominant, undeniable, but layered with a fierce, almost smug satisfaction. Like he’d won a prize he’d been eyeing for years. His tongue lapped roughly at the wound, the sting mixing with a strange, addictive pleasure that made Derek’s toes curl against the crumpled futon cover.
Nate, still buried deep inside Derek’s trembling body, tightened his arms around the omega’s waist. His own breath huffed hot against Derek’s other shoulder. He watched Peter’s claiming, his expression unreadable except for the intense focus in his dark eyes. There was a flicker there – possessiveness, sure, but also… acceptance? A primal acknowledgment of the triad now irrevocably forged. His hips shifted minutely, a subtle pulse within Derek that drew a weak, oversensitive whimper.
Peter finally eased his bite, pulling back just enough to admire his handiwork. He traced the bleeding mark with a surprisingly gentle thumb, smearing the crimson against Derek’s dusky skin. He met Nate’s gaze over Derek’s shoulder, a challenging smirk playing on his lips despite the raw hunger still burning in his eyes. "Mine," he stated again, the word less a question, less a challenge to Nate this time, and more a declaration to the universe. "Now too."
Derek felt it. The dual claims. Two distinct, potent signatures etched onto his soul, thrumming beneath his skin like live wires. Nate’s felt like deep earth, solid and unyielding, anchoring him. Peter’s was wildfire, bright and consuming, promising endless heat. They didn't clash; they intertwined, weaving a complex, overwhelming tapestry of belonging he’d never imagined. He felt claimed. Owned. Utterly filled in a way that went far beyond the physical fullness of Nate still lodged inside him or Peter’s possessive grip on his hip.
Peter’s smirk widened as he saw the dazed surrender in Derek’s wide, green eyes. His hand slid from Derek’s hip, trailing possessively down the omega’s flank, over the curve of his ass, slick with sweat and Nate’s release. His fingers dipped lower, finding the stretched, sensitive rim where Nate was still sheathed. He pressed a fingertip against the stretched muscle, right beside Nate’s thick base, testing the give. Derek jolted, a shocked gasp tearing from his throat. The oversensitivity was brutal, a lightning strike of sensation.
"Fuck," Derek choked out, his body instinctively trying to clench, trapped between Nate’s immovable presence inside and Peter’s invasive touch outside.
Peter chuckled, the sound dark and thrilling. "Getting tight again already, sweet thing?" He rubbed the pad of his finger in a small, torturous circle. "Still hungry?" His other hand drifted to Derek’s spent cock, which twitched pathetically at the renewed attention despite its sensitivity. Peter gave it a slow, considering stroke, watching Derek shudder. "Or is it just greedy?" He leaned close, his lips brushing Derek’s ear, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper thick with intent. "Want another knot already? Want my knot?"
A fresh wave of slickness trickled from Derek, a humiliating, involuntary response to the raw filth in Peter’s words and the promise they held. He was wrecked, trembling, Nate’s seed leaking around the alpha’s softening cock inside him, Peter’s fresh bite throbbing, yet the heat, momentarily banked by his own climax and the overwhelming claiming, surged back with terrifying speed. His body was a traitor, craving more, demanding more, even as his mind screamed it was impossible.
Nate groaned, a deep, resonant sound vibrating through Derek. He shifted, his softening cock slipping free with a slick, obscene sound, leaving Derek feeling strangely hollow. Nate moved with surprising gentleness, carefully easing Derek down from his knees onto his side on the futon amidst the damp, rumpled chaos. Nate’s large hand splayed possessively across Derek’s lower belly, warm and grounding, while his other arm curled under Derek’s head, cradling him. His eyes, still intense but softened with a possessiveness that now felt protective, locked onto Derek’s face.
Peter, however, wasn't done. He tracked Nate’s movement, his gaze lingering on the glistening mess between Derek’s thighs, the slick and seed coating his inner skin. His own cock, still thick and demanding, strained against his sweatpants. He licked his lips, the playful charmer now entirely replaced by the hungry alpha. He pushed himself up onto his knees, looming over Derek where he lay cradled against Nate. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, shoving them down just enough to free his erection.
Peter Kavinsky was uncut. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, flushed a deep red, the head glistening with pre-come beneath its hood. The foreskin was drawn back tautly by his rigid state, revealing the swollen crown. Veins stood out starkly along the shaft. It was a weapon, beautiful and intimidating.
"Plenty of room left," Peter murmured, his voice thick and low. He wasn't asking. He guided the broad, slick head of his cock through the mess coating Derek’s inner thigh, leaving a glistening trail, nudging insistently against Derek’s already well-used, slick-smeared entrance. Nate’s claiming bite pulsed on one side of his neck, Peter’s on the other. Nate’s hand on his belly felt like a brand. Peter’s cockhead pressed relentlessly against his tender rim.
Derek whimpered, a high, broken sound. He was impossibly sensitive, stretched and filled only moments before, marked irrevocably by both Alphas. Yet the heat roared back, a furnace stoked by Peter’s proximity, his scent, the blunt pressure at his entrance. His body, traitorous and needy, softened reflexively, trying to yield. His hole clenched around nothing, desperate for the fullness again.
Peter met Nate’s gaze, a silent question passing between them. Nate’s jaw tightened, a flicker of something possessive – maybe reluctance, maybe fierce anticipation – crossing his features. But he gave a single, almost imperceptible nod, his arm tightening around Derek’s shoulders. Permission. Claim.
Peter’s grin was pure feral triumph. He leaned forward, bracing one hand beside Derek’s hip, the other guiding his cock. "Gonna fill you up, Omega," he breathed, the words hot against Derek’s sweat-slicked temple. "Gonna knot you so deep you taste it." He pushed.
The stretch was different this time. More immediate, more brutal. Derek’s body was sensitized, protesting the fresh invasion even as slick gushed, easing the way. It burned. He cried out, arching against Nate’s hold. Nate murmured something low and unintelligible, his hand pressing firmly on Derek’s belly, holding him down, holding him open.
"Fuck, yeah," Peter groaned, sinking deeper. "Tight little fuckhole. Still stretched for Nate, but squeezing me so good." He pushed relentlessly, his thick shaft spearing Derek open again, the head popping past the tight ring of muscle. Derek gasped, the breath knocked out of him by the searing fullness. Peter didn't stop. He bottomed out with a final, forceful thrust, his pelvis slamming against Derek’s ass, his heavy balls slapping against the omega’s taint. He was thicker than Nate in a different way, the prominent ridge of his head pressing fiercely against Derek’s prostate immediately.
Peter threw his head back with a guttural shout. "Christ! Like fucking a velvet vise!" He didn't pause. He pulled back almost all the way, then slammed back in, setting a punishing rhythm from the start. No gentle build-up. This was claiming. Possession. Marking Derek internally just as thoroughly as his teeth had marked the skin.
Each deep, hard thrust forced a punched-out gasp from Derek. The pain was intense, a deep, stretching burn compounded by the raw sensitivity, but it was inextricably tangled with blinding pleasure as Peter’s cock ground relentlessly against his prostate. Stars burst behind his eyelids. He scrabbled weakly at Nate’s arm, overwhelmed, overstimulated, his own cock twitching back to half-mast against his belly.
Nate held him firmly, his own arousal evident in the hardness pressing against Derek’s hip. He watched Peter fuck their omega, his dark eyes smoldering, a possessive growl rumbling in his chest. He dipped his head, licking roughly at the bite mark he’d left earlier, a silent reassertion of his claim even as Peter dominated Derek’s body.
Peter fucked like he played lacrosse: aggressive, skilled, and utterly relentless. His hips pistoned, driving into Derek with powerful snaps that rocked the futon frame. Sweat dripped from his brow onto Derek’s back. The wet slap of skin on skin, the guttural groans from Peter, the sharp little cries from Derek, the musky scent of sex and heat and dual alpha claims – it filled the cramped dorm room, thick and suffocating.
"Take it, Omega," Peter grunted, his breath coming in sharp bursts. "Take my fucking cock. Gonna breed this tight hole. Make you ours." His thrusts became shorter, harder, more erratic.