Claimed by three Alphas

Chapter 3: The Second Claim

Thorne pulled out slowly.

His pierced c**k dragged along every sensitive inch on the way out. The thick bars caught on my rim, sending sharp sparks of overstimulation shooting through my core. I gasped, the sound raw and involuntary. My hole stayed open for a long, humiliating second after he withdrew, slick and his release leaking out in a slow, thick drip that pooled beneath me on the leather bench. The emptiness hit like a physical ache, hollow and insistent. I hated how much I noticed the loss, how my walls fluttered around nothing, already craving the stretch again.

Thorne stepped back without a word. He wiped himself clean on the shredded remains of my shirt, the motion casual, almost careless, as though I were nothing more than a convenient rag. The fabric was already ruined, torn open, soaked, stained, but the indifference in the gesture burned worse than any bruise.

He looked at Aurelius, green eyes dark and satisfied. “Your turn.”

Aurelius grinned. Wide. Feral. All sharp teeth and unrestrained hunger.

He had already stripped his shirt off earlier. Now golden skin gleamed in the shifting firelight, every muscle flexing as he prowled closer. His pants hit the stone floor with a soft thud. His c**k sprang free, thick at the base, veins bulging along the shaft, the knot already half-swollen and heavy, promising to lock and hold. It bobbed with his movement, flushed dark and leaking at the tip.

He climbed onto the bench between my spread legs. The leather creaked under his added weight, protesting the shift. His hands gripped my thighs hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh just above the straps. Bruises would bloom there later, dark purple fingerprints I would feel for days.

“Been waiting for this,” he said, voice rough with anticipation. “Since I scented you in the clearing. Sweet. Ripe. Begging.”

I turned my head away, staring at the flickering shadows on the far wall. “f**k you.”

He laughed, low and dark. “Soon, little omega. Soon.”

Cassian still knelt at my head. His large hand remained on my throat, steady pressure, not choking, just enough to remind me who controlled even my breath. His thumb rested lightly over my racing pulse, feeling every frantic beat.

Aurelius lined up. The blunt, leaking head pressed against my slick entrance. Thorne had already stretched me open, but Aurelius felt different. Wider at the base. Hotter. More aggressive, like he intended to claim every inch with force rather than patience.

He did not ease in.

He thrust forward in one hard, brutal push. Half his length buried inside me in a single stroke.

I cried out, the sound tearing from my throat. My back arched off the bench as far as the straps allowed. Leather bit into my wrists and ankles, holding me down while fire and stretch ripped through me. Pain flared bright and immediate, but pleasure twisted through it, treacherous and undeniable. My walls clenched around him, trying to push him out, pulling him deeper at the same time.

“f**k yes,” Aurelius groaned, head tipping back for a moment. “Tight. Wet. Perfect.”

He pulled back almost to the tip, then slammed in again. Deeper. Harder. His hips snapped against mine with punishing force. The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin echoed through the chamber, amplified by the slick that coated us both. Every thrust forced more of my own release out around him, dripping down to join the mess already pooling beneath me.

I bit my lip until I tasted copper, trying to hold back the sounds clawing up my throat. I failed. Moans slipped out anyway, broken, shameful, rising higher with each brutal drive.

Aurelius leaned down until his sweat-slick chest pressed flush to mine. Our skin stuck together. His mouth found the side of my neck. Teeth grazed the tender skin there, not biting, not yet, just teasing the spot where my pulse hammered beneath the surface.

“You like it,” he growled against my throat, breath hot and ragged. “Say it.”

“No,” I gasped, the word cracking.

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through my chest. He thrust harder, hips pistoning with ruthless precision. His knot bumped my rim on every inward stroke, swelling thicker with each pass, stretching me wider, threatening to lock and trap me on him.

Cassian’s thumb brushed along my jaw in a slow, almost tender arc. The gentleness made everything worse, the contrast between Aurelius’s violence and Cassian’s quiet possession twisted something deep inside me. Cruelty wrapped in care. I hated how it made my body arch toward them both.

Aurelius sped up. The rhythm turned brutal, relentless. Each thrust punched the air from my lungs in sharp, helpless bursts. My c**k, hard despite everything, bobbed against my stomach with every impact, leaking steadily, untouched and aching.

“Gonna knot you,” Aurelius panted, voice fraying at the edges. “Gonna fill you up. Make you mine. Mark you so deep you’ll feel me for weeks.”

I shook my head, tears slipping down my temples to disappear into my hair. Denial was all I had left.

He slammed in one final time. Deep. So deep I felt him in my spine. His knot caught, swelled impossibly larger, and locked.

Heat exploded inside me. His release flooded hot and thick, pulse after heavy pulse, filling me until my belly tightened, distended slightly from the sheer volume. I felt every spurt, every throb as he emptied himself. My own body clenched around the intrusion, milking him instinctively even as I whimpered.

Aurelius groaned long and low, the sound rumbling through both of us. His body shook with the force of it. The knot throbbed inside me, tugging at my rim with every heartbeat, keeping us joined. No escape. No retreat.

He collapsed over me, heavy and spent, chest heaving against mine. His knot pulsed again, sending another aftershock through my oversensitive nerves.

Thorne watched from a few steps away, arms crossed over his broad chest, a satisfied smirk curling his lips. He had not moved, had not spoken since handing me off. Simply observed, like a king watching his court perform.

Cassian’s hand slid from my throat to my hair. He stroked once, slow, soft, possessive, fingers threading through the damp strands.

Aurelius lifted his head at last. Looked at Cassian over my trembling body.

“Your turn soon,” he said, voice still rough from pleasure. “He’s still fighting. You’ll like breaking that.”

Cassian said nothing.

His amber eyes burned brighter in the firelight, pupils blown wide with hunger.

The knot pulsed again inside me, stretching, claiming, holding.

I whimpered, body trembling beneath Aurelius’s weight.

Overstimulated.

Overfilled.

Owned.

And it was only the second alpha.

Cassian’s gaze never wavered from mine.

He waited.

Patient.

I knew what came next.