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her jaw open so I can force more in. Her eyes stretch wide as I surge to the back of her throat, and I lift my head and snarl with pleasure.

Her body rocks harder as Hawthorn plows her, mouth and tight throat working over the tip of my cock.

I ease out of that hot little mouth as Hawthorn’s climax and knotting tip her over once again.

We fall into instinct. Glorious, animal lust consumes us all; we converge upon her together.

Priya

I’m lost in a dream-like state where I experience ravenous hunger. It does not matter how often they make my body sing; I always want more. My aggression rises even as I become weakened. I snarl at mates who do not give me enough. No matter how well they rut me, there is a terrible emptiness inside.

On my knees with my face and chest collapsed into the soft nest as I’m rutted from behind. My belly is full. They have fed me cum, forced spewing cock into my ass and pussy until my body aches with the strain. Hawthorn’s knot stretches my tired inner muscles. The thick swelling sets my pussy convulsing, drawing yet more of his seed into me, although there is nowhere for it to go.

I am spent, limp, but I still hiss complaint.

The sting of a slap on my ass sees me turn and snarl. “Grip me,” Hawthorn commands, big palm connecting again when I don’t respond quickly enough. I squeeze my pussy, but weakly, for I’m exhausted.

Clawed fingers scrape over my nipple before the rough fingers squeeze cruelly. “Squeeze his knot,” Raglan growls. His voice is low and roughened, and it instills a frisson of fear. The clawed fingers could maim me terribly, and the sensation of him tugging sharply on the little bud makes me swift to obey.

“Good girl,” Hawthorn praises. Then his hands brace my hips, lifting me, thumbs pressing into flesh to pull my pussy open, and the knot slips out in a rush. I screech my protest, earning myself another pinch to my nipple. Cum splatters out, giving some small relief to the fullness.

“Goddess, she is so open,” Brook says. Fingers probe me as Hawthorn holds me open and up. I feel them working in, stretching the walls of my pussy. I twitch and snarl half-hearted complaints, for it sets nerves aflame and makes me impatient once again.

“Pet her little slick gland,” Caden says. “She is sensitive there and cannot help but come.”

My eyes roll back. Cum saturated fingers are thrust between my lips, and I suck and lap them with greedy obedience forgetting all about the burning stretching sensation of fingers then cock, fingers then cock.

More cum is pressed between my lips just as a thick club snags the entrance to my pussy. I fret, but hands are holding me everywhere, pinning me securely and keeping me absolutely still. Goddess, the pressure.

“Nmmmmm!” I groan around the fingers filling my mouth.

“Bear down upon it, Priya,” Hawthorn commands. “Your pussy is well opened. You can take this. You need this.”

Fingers are at my clit, strumming the over-sensitized bud, a tongue laps at one nipple, while the other is tugged with ruthless intent, and behind, a blunt club that feels bigger than my arm is sinking into me. My mouth holds the lingering salty essence of cum.

I groan, feeling the tip sink into me. A distant part of me is terrified, but the part that commands me is intrigued by the delicious sense of fullness.

I no longer try to push away. I relax into the blissful sensation.

A moan rises from the pit of my stomach. The thick cock slides in, and I feel every ripple as it passes deeper, more and more stretching me and flaring nerves to glorious life. It keeps sinking deeper, and panic looms that it does not have an end. The hands tighten over me. I’m a mess of too many stimulations. Just as the monstrous cock nestles, bringing pelt covered thighs to brush against my ass, I splinter, pussy spasming over that impossible rod.

The beast howls. He slides out, only to surge back in.

The many binding hands are gone. Now only two claw-tipped hands are bracing my hips as the giant rod is forced in and out. I keep coming, over and over, skin feverish, and my body bathed in flames.

Mine.

The thought echoes in my mind, but it is not one voice; it is many. It is four, my four mates.

Come.

The thought blisters through my mind. It commands me. It takes all my free will.

I come. Sentience is lost to everything but the voice and what it wills me to do.

Come harder.

I scream. A sea of lava is lapping at my skin.

Come harder, still.

I lose sight and sound. I am a convulsing mass of feelings too big to contain. Double knots are swelling, ruining me. I am lashed and bound, locked upon dreadful rapture.

Ours.

I feel jets and jets of thick cum fill me up. More cum covers me, splashing over my prone body, filling my mouth. I am drenched with it. I am so high I can no longer touch the ground.

Come again.

Sharp teeth, inhuman teeth, pierce my throat, and the coppery scent of blood fills my nose. I soar.

Hawthorn

“I am not dead then?”

The lass sounds confused about this, and it brings a chuckle to my lips. We are a tangle on a bed not big enough for four Alphas. Thankfully, Raglan shifted to human again before sleep took us; otherwise, none of us would have fit. “Foolish lass,” I mutter. “No Omega has ever died from a rutting.”

“I don’t think that was a normal rutting,” she says. “I can’t move, and I need to go.”

Raglan shifts on the other side of her, displacing Brook, who falls out of the decimated nest with a thud and a curse. Raglan scoops our little mate up and stalks toward the bathing chamber. “Start her bath,” he orders Brook, using a bit of the Alpha force.

“Fuck,” Brook mutters, staggering to his

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