Minutes tick by with agonizing slowness. Juniper shifts occasionally, little movements that make Carlisle's breath catch, and every time she does, her scent gets stronger. By the time Carlisle's knot finally goes down enough for him to pull out, I'm gripping the arms of the chair hard enough that the wood creaks in protest.
"Fuck," Carlisle breathes as he withdraws, and I catch a glimpse of his come dripping from her before she shifts position. "I'll go get some supplies. Water, snacks, towels. She's going to need to stay hydrated."
He grabs a towel from the nightstand, wiping himself off with movements that are surprisingly practical for someone who just had what looked like transcendent sex. But that's Carlisle—he can go from fucking to planning murder to discussing tea preferences without missing a beat.
"Who do you want next, Juney?" Felix asks, his voice carrying that protective edge that says he's ready to kick all of us out if she shows even a hint of discomfort.
Juniper's eyes scan the room, taking in her options like she's selecting from a particularly appealing menu. When her gaze lands on me, something in my chest seizes. Those hazel eyes are blown wide with heat and want, but there's clarity there too. Choice.
"Bane," she says, and my name on her lips hits like a siren's song. "Come here."
I'm moving before my brain catches up, drawn to her like gravity finally remembered I exist. The nest is even softer than it looks, blankets and pillows arranged with the kind of obsessive attention to detail that speaks to deep omega instincts. It smells like all of us now, but underneath it all is her, sweet and wild and fucking perfect.
Juniper's sprawled in the nest like a goddess of chaos, all soft curves and flushed skin, her brown hair spread across the pillows like silk. She looks thoroughly fucked, lips swollen, marks already forming on her throat and breasts from Carlisle's attention, but her eyes are bright with need for more.
"Hi," she says, almost shy, which is amusing considering she just had Carlisle's cock buried in her while the rest of us watched. But our little hellcat, as Carlisle calls her, is full of contradictions, and that's part of what makes her so fascinating.
Not a bad name, I have to admit.
"Hi yourself," I manage, settling beside her with more care than I'd approach a bomb with. Because that's what she is, explosive potential wrapped in soft skin and a smart mouth.
She reaches for my hand, and fuck, hers looks so small in mine. "Your hands are huge," she observes, turning my palm over like she's studying it.
"Everything about me is proportional," I say before I can stop myself, and she laughs, bright and delighted.
"Is that a promise or a threat?"
"Whichever turns you on more."
She pulls my hand to her breast, and the first touch of her skin against mine is electric. She's so soft, so warm, and when I carefully squeeze, she arches into the touch with a little gasp that goes straight to my cock.
"More," she demands, because of course she does. Juniper doesn't do anything by halves.
I use both hands now, kneading her breasts like I'm moulding the softest clay. Worshiping at the altar of an omega who could kill me with a paperclip but is instead letting me touch her. Her nipples are already hard, sensitive from Carlisle's attention, and when I roll one between my fingers, she keens.
"Fuck, your hands," she gasps. "They're perfect, you're perfect, I need?—"
"What do you need?" I ask, even though the answer's obvious from the way she's squirming, thighs pressing together like she's trying to find friction that isn't there.
"Your mouth," she says, then adds with that trademark Juniper charm, "Unless you're all talk and no action, Daddy Bear."
The challenge in her voice makes me grin. "Oh, I'm all about action."
I kiss my way down her body, taking my time because when the fuck am I going to get this chance again? Each kiss draws a sound from her, a gasp here, a moan there, a creative curse when I nip at her hip bone. By the time I settle between her thighs, she's trembling with need.
The first taste of her nearly breaks my control entirely. She's sweet and salty, Carlisle's come mixed with her own arousal, and instead of being turned off by tasting another man, it just reinforces that she's ours. All of ours. That we can share this, share her, without the usual alpha posturing bullshit.
"Fuck," she gasps when I lick a long stripe from entrance to clit. "Your tongue, it's like…"
Whatever comparison she was going for gets lost in a moan when I seal my lips around her clit and suck. Her hands fly to my hair, gripping hard enough to hurt, but the pain just makes everything sharper, better. I work her with the single-minded focus I usually reserve for missions, cataloging what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her legs shake. Reality has narrowed to the single point of her, but I'm vaguely aware of the others watching us in the background, breathing hitched. They're enjoying the show.
When I slide two fingers inside her, she's so wet they go in easily despite her tightness. The angle lets me hit that spot that makes her whole body seize, and I curve my fingers just right, pressing up while my tongue circles her clit.
"Bane, fuck, I'm going to?—"
She comes with a scream that probably wakes the entire mountain, her pussy clenching around my fingers so hard it almost hurts. I work her through it, gentling my touch as she becomes oversensitive, until she's pushing at my head weakly.
"Too much," she gasps. "Need—need you inside me."
