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“So,” Mack said breathlessly.
The roar of the crowd was still a phantom vibration in their bones, the adrenaline a live wire under their skin as they stumbled into the private lounge attached to the locker room. It was usually saved for emergency mating if a heat or rut was triggered during a game.
This wasn’t an emergency, but it was definitely important.
The door muffled the distant, celebratory chaos of their teammates. The silence it created was thick, charged, and unbearably intimate.
Mack leaned back against a polished conference table, his gear shed, wearing only his team-issue hoodie and sweats. His heart wasn’t pounding from the game anymore. It was hammering against his ribs for an entirely different reason. His eyes were fixed on Cherny who stood just inside the door, looking like he’d been struck by lightning.
Will was a silent, brooding statue by the minibar, his arms crossed over his chest. The quiet protectiveness was still there, a low hum in the room, but it was edged now with a sharp, biting jealousy he’d agreed to swallow.
For Mack. Anything for Mack.
Cherny’s blue eyes, usually so wide and star-struck, were now blazing with a focused, primal heat.
Before the game, in order to motivate Cherny, but really all of them, Mack made a wager. Anyone who scored a goal during the game would get to fuck Mack right after.
Cherny scored two. He hadn’t said a word since the final buzzer, just followed Will and Mack like a lovestruck puppy, his gaze locked on Mack with an intensity that made the air feel thin.
“Two goals,” Mack finally said, his voice a low rasp. He pushed off the table, taking a single step forward. The movement made the loose sweatshirt shift across his shoulders. “You were kind of amazing out there, huh?”
Cherny swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Was for you,” he said, his Russian accent thicker with emotion. “The promise. I could think only of this.”
Will shifted on his feet. “Mack, you don’t have to do this.”
Mack didn’t look at Will. He kept his eyes on Cherny. “I’m no quitter. We made a bet and I intend to follow through.” His eyes dipped to Cherny’s mouth. “Cherny saved us tonight. He deserves this. I want to.”
It was all the permission Cherny needed. He crossed the room in two long strides, not with the graceful power of his skating, but with a predatory directness that made Mack’s breath hitch. Cherny’s hands, still smelling of melted ice and sweat, came up to frame Mack’s face. They were trembling, just slightly.
“So pretty,” Cherny murmured, his breathless words falling like a secret between them. And then he was kissing him.
Cherny’s mouth was hot and desperate, slanting over Mack’s with a hunger that spoke of months of silent, worshipful longing. Mack melted into it with a soft, surrendering moan, his hands coming up to clutch at Cherny’s broad shoulders. The kiss was all tongue and heat and the faint, metallic taste of Gatorade. It was messy and perfect and so fucking hot.
From the sidelines, Will watched, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. He saw the way Mack’s body arched into Cherny’s, the way his fingers dug into the his shirt. He saw the raw, unadulterated want, and it was a knife-twist in his gut.
But he’d promised. Mack had been so low during their losing streak, so frustrated. Seeing the fire this bet lit in Cherny had lit one in Mack, too. Will would endure this jealousy if it meant Mack was happy, if it meant Mack was here, fiery and wanting and alive.
Cherny broke the kiss, breathing ragged. He pressed his forehead against Mack’s, his blue eyes searching the green. “Is okay?” he asked, vulnerability flashing briefly through his hunger.
“More than okay,” Mack panted, a dizzy smile playing on his kiss-swollen lips. “Don’t stop. Please.”
That was it. Cherny’s hands slid down, gripping the hem of Mack’s hoodie and pulling it up and off in one swift motion. The cool air of the room hit Mack’s skin, pebbling his pale pink nipples, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Cherny’s gaze drinking him in. His hands, calloused and strong, skated down Mack’s ribs, over the tight muscles of his abdomen, coming to rest at the waistband of his sweatpants.
Mack leaned back, bracing himself on the conference table as Cherny knelt. The sight of gorgeous, powerful Cherny on his knees before him sent a jolt of pure lust straight to Mack’s core. Cherny hooked his fingers in the waistband of Mack’s pants and underwear and pulled them down together, revealing Mack’s pussy in one slow, deliberate motion.
A low, guttural sound escaped Cherny. “Fuck,” he breathed. He didn’t touch yet, just stared, his hot breath ghosting over Mack’s sensitive folds. “So beautiful, Mack.”
Mack whimpered, his head falling back. The intensity of being looked at like that, worshipped like that, by someone who had idolized him from day one… It was an aphrodisiac all its own. “Cherny, please. Touch me.”
Cherny needed no further urging. He leaned in, and instead of using his fingers, he pressed his mouth directly against Mack’s cunt.
The sensation was devastating and electric. Cherny’s tongue was broad and flat, laving a slow, wet stripe from his entrance all the way up to his clit. Mack cried out, a sharp, unfiltered sound that echoed in the quiet room. Cherny ate him out like a man starved, with a messy, enthusiastic lack of finesse that was somehow infinitely more arousing than any practiced technique. He moaned against Mack’s flesh, the vibrations making Mack’s thighs shake. He licked and sucked, delving deep with his tongue before focusing on Mack’s clit, circling the tight bud with relentless pressure.
“Fuck, yes, right there, oh god,” Mack babbled, his hands tangling in Cherny’s blond hair, holding him close. He was already trembling on the edge, the adrenaline from the game and the sheer taboo of the situation hurtling him toward climax with terrifying speed. He glanced over, his vision blurry, and saw Will still watching, his face a mask of conflicted desire, one hand subtly palming the growing bulge in his own track pants.
The sight of Will, watching, jealous, aroused, pushed Mack over. His orgasm ripped through him, sudden and violent. He shouted, back arching sharply off the table as waves of pleasure crashed over him, his cunt clenching around nothing, around Cherny’s relentless tongue. Cherny held him through it, drinking down every tremor, every pulse, until Mack was a shuddering, gasping mess, weakly pushing at his head.
Cherny pulled back, his chin glistening. He looked utterly wrecked and supremely proud. He surged to his feet, kissing Mack deeply again, letting him taste himself on Cherny’s tongue. Mack could feel the hard, massive length of Cherny’s cock straining against his own sweatpants, and the reality of it, the size of it promised through whispers in the locker room, sent a fresh thrill of nervous anticipation through his spent body.
“My turn,” Cherny growled against his lips. His hands went to his own pants, shoving them and his briefs down over his hips in one impatient thrust.
Mack’s eyes widened. The rumors hadn’t done it justice. Cherny was huge. Long and thick, veined, ruddy with need, the tip already leaking pre-come. It was an alpha’s cock, intimidating and magnificent. A low whimper escaped Mack’s throat, a mix of awe and sheer want.
“You take me,” Cherny said, it wasn’t a question. It was a reverent command. He fumbled with the pockets of his discarded pants, pulling out a wallet and a small foil packet. He sheathed himself with clumsy, urgent hands, the latex straining to contain him.
Mack spread his legs wider on the table edge, offering himself. He was slick and open from his orgasm, but the sight of Cherny lining up that monstrous head against his entrance made his breath catch. “E-easy,” he breathed, a nervous smile touching his lips. “It’s my first time with, um… your size of equipment.” Will was big for an alpha, but he wasn’t a monster like Cherny.
Cherny’s eyes softened for a second, and he leaned in, kissing Mack gently. “I go slow. For you.”
He pushed forward, and the stretch was immediate and unbelievable. Mack gasped, a sharp “Ah!” as the thick head pressed past his entrance, spreading him wide. It burned, a delicious, full ache that stole his breath. Cherny froze, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back.
“Fuck,” Cherny whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “You are so tight. So perfect.”
“Keep going,” Mack urged, wrapping his legs around Cherny’s waist, pulling him closer. “I can take it. Give it to me.”
With a groan that was half prayer, half surrender, Cherny obeyed. He pushed in deeper, an inexorable, slow invasion that filled Mack beyond anything he’d ever known. Mack could feel every inch, every vein, the impossible stretch as his body struggled to accommodate Cherny’s girth. It was overwhelming, a sensation so intense it bordered on pain before it tip-toed into mind-blowing pleasure. When Cherny was finally fully seated, balls-deep, they both lay frozen for a moment, panting, connected.
Cherny’s face was buried in Mack’s neck, his hot breaths coming in ragged bursts. “Mack,” he choked out. “You feel…” He said something unrecognizable in Russian then gasped, “Unreal.”
Then he began to move.
He started slow, pulling back almost all the way before sliding back in with that same steady, devastating pressure. Each stroke dragged against Mack’s inner walls, lighting up nerves he didn’t know he had. The slap of skin, Cherny’s low, Russian curses, Mack’s own high, broken whimpers filled the silent room. Mack clung to him, nails digging into the powerful muscles of Cherny’s back, meeting each thrust as best he could.
“Look at him, Mack.” Will’s voice cut through the haze, low and strained from across the room. “Look at how much he wants you. How he’s wanted this from the start.”
Mack turned his head, his cheek pressed against the cool table. Will had moved closer, standing a few feet away, his own cock now freed and fisted in his hand, stroking in time with Cherny’s thrusts. The sight was obscenely hot—his boyfriend, jealous and turned on beyond bearing, getting off on watching him get fucked by their rookie.
“Will,” Mack moaned, reaching a hand out toward him. “Will.”
Cherny’s thrusts were becoming less controlled, more powerful, driving Mack up the table with each snap of his hips. The pace was relentless, a punishing, glorious rhythm that was quickly driving Mack toward another dizzying peak. Cherny was hitting a spot deep inside him with every plunge, a spot that made stars burst behind Mack’s eyelids.
“You like? You like my cock, Mack?” Cherny grunted, his accent thick with exertion.
“Yes! God, yes, Cherny, don’t stop!” Mack screamed, his body bowing. The friction was incredible, the fullness was everything. He felt owned, claimed, utterly used in the best possible way. His second orgasm was building, coiling tighter and tighter in his gut, amplified by the voyeuristic thrill of Will’s heated gaze.
Cherny was losing his rhythm, his own end approaching. He fucked into Mack with brutal, deep strokes, his hips pistoning. “I—I cannot last. You are too good.”
“Come in me,” Mack begged, the words filthy and perfect. “Fill me up, please, you earned it, please.”
With a roar that was pure alpha triumph, Cherny slammed home one final time and held, his body seizing. Mack could feel the thick pulse of his cock through the condom, the phantom heat of his release, and it was the final trigger. Mack’s own orgasm detonated, a silent, breathless scream ripping from his throat as his cunt convulsed violently around Cherny’s still-throbbing length, milking him through his climax.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing. Cherny collapsed forward, his weight a comforting press on Mack, his face buried in Mack’s sweaty neck. They were a tangled, spent mess on the conference table.
Slowly, carefully, Cherny pulled out. He disposed of the condom and then, with a tenderness that contrasted starkly with the fierce fucking, he leaned down and kissed Mack softly. “You are perfect,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
Mack just smiled, boneless and utterly fucked-out.
Will finally approached, his own need evident. He looked down at Mack, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned in and kissed him, deep and possessive, tasting of jealousy and lust and an enduring, complicated love. When he pulled back, he glanced at Cherny, who was pulling his pants up with a dazed look.
“You got your prize,” Will said, his voice rough. “Now it’s my turn.”
Will’s next kiss was a brand, tasting of ownership and a simmering anger twisted into desperate lust. It was a punctuation mark at the end of Cherny’s performance, a stark reminder of the hierarchy in this room. Mack felt it sear through his post-orgasm haze, sharp and clarifying, making him gasp and shake.
When Will pulled back, his blue eyes were dark, pupils dilated with arousal and something fiercer. He didn’t look at Cherny. He kept his gaze locked on Mack, who was still sprawled on the conference table, slick and trembling from Cherny’s onslaught.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” Will whispered.
Cherny, standing a few feet away pulling his sweats back on, froze. His eyes flicked from Will to Mack, a flicker of confusion and dawning realization crossing his handsome, flushed face. He’d had his moment. His worship. His claim.
But Will was the alpha Mack belonged to, and it was only because Will allowed it that Cherny was able to have a taste.
Will’s hands moved to Mack’s thighs, far from gentle. His fingers dug into the soft muscle, and he pushed Mack’s legs wider apart. Mack gasped, the sudden movement making his oversensitive flesh twitch. He was utterly exposed, the cool air of the room kissing the wetness Cherny had left behind.
“Look at you,” Will murmured, his voice a low, possessive rumble. He traced a finger through the mess on Mack’s inner thigh, collecting the evidence of Cherny’s passion. “All opened up for him. All sweet and wet for the rookie.”
Mack’s breath hitched. Will’s tone wasn’t cruel, but there was an edge to it that Mack only heard when he was being especially difficult and bratty. It was the voice of a man looking at something he loved that had been temporarily taken from him. A man who now intended to reclaim it thoroughly as his.
Will finally glanced at Cherny. “You watch,” he commanded, the words leaving no room for argument. “You stand there and you watch how he belongs to me.”
Cherny’s jaw tightened. A flush of humiliation colored his cheeks, being ordered by another alpha, but he didn’t move or speak. He just stood there, his own body still humming from release, doing exactly as he was told.
Will’s attention returned to Mack. He leaned down, his broad shoulders blocking out the overhead light, casting Mack in his shadow. He didn’t kiss him again. Instead, he lowered his head between Mack’s legs.
The anticipation was a coiled wire in Mack’s gut. Will had watched Cherny taste him. Now, Will would taste what Cherny had left.
Will’s tongue was different. It wasn’t Cherny’s enthusiastic, starved exploration. It was deliberate. Skilled. He licked a slow, firm path up Mack’s slit, collecting the mingled flavors of Mack and the condom-lubricated remnants of Cherny’s spend. Mack shuddered, a moan escaping his lips. It was an act of dominance, of re-mapping. Will was tasting the interloper’s presence and replacing it with his own.
He focused on Mack’s clit, swollen and hyper-sensitive from Cherny’s attention. He circled it with the tip of his tongue, precise and relentless, applying a pressure that was just on the edge of painful. Mack cried out, his hands flying to Will’s hair, but Will caught his wrists in a firm grip and pinned them back against the table.
“No,” Will growled, the vibration against Mack’s core making him jolt. “You don’t get to touch. You just take. You let me remind you.”
He continued his assault, sucking Mack’s clit into his mouth, applying a rhythmic pressure that was utterly controlled. Mack writhed, but Will’s grip on his wrists held him fast. He was trapped, pinned by Will’s strength and his intent. The pleasure was acute, sharp, layered with the psychological weight of being claimed back. Will was erasing Cherny’s mark, overwriting it with a deeper, more possessive imprint.
From his vantage point, Cherny watched, his breathing shallow. He saw Will’s powerful back flexing, saw Mack’s body arching in helpless response. He saw the way Mack’s eyes, glazed with pleasure, sought Will’s face even as Will denied him touch. It was a different kind of intimacy, one that excluded him completely. It stung.
And yet, it also stirred something. To see Mack, his idol, so utterly surrendered to another man’s command. To see the star he worshipped be dominated so completely.
Mack’s third orgasm of the night approached, not as a crashing wave, but as a steady, rising tide pulled by Will’s demanding mouth. It built under the unyielding pressure, a tension that had nowhere to go but over the edge. “W-Will… Will, I’m gonna—” Mack whimpered, his voice breaking.
Will released his wrists only to grab his hips, holding him down against the table as Mack bucked. “Come,” Will ordered, his voice muffled against Mack’s flesh. “Come for me, baby. Show me you remember who you belong to.”
The command, coupled with the final, sharp suck Will gave his clit, broke Mack. He came with a choked, sobbing cry, his cunt clenching around nothing, the release pouring through him in a hot, shuddering rush. Will drank it down, lapping at him until every tremor subsided, until Mack was limp and pliant beneath him.
Will rose then, his own cock thick and angry-red, standing rigid against his abdomen. He was still fully dressed except for his cock freed from his track pants. The contrast was stark: the clothed alpha, and the utterly naked, ravished omega beneath him. He looked at Mack, his eyes burning with a heat that had finally burned through the jealousy, leaving only raw, possessive desire.
“He stretched you out for me,” Will said, his hand stroking his own length, a slow, torturous pump. “Made you nice and open.” He leaned forward, his tip nudging against Mack’s dripping entrance. Mack felt the blunt, familiar pressure of Will’s cock, different from Cherny’s—thick, but not as monstrously wide. A known territory. Home.
“Take me back, Mack,” Will whispered, the words a plea and a demand all at once.
Mack nodded, his voice gone. He spread his legs wider, an open invitation.
Will pushed in, his cock sliding into the slick, well-used channel Cherny had carved, filling a space that now felt made for him. It was a reclamation in the most physical sense. Will didn’t go slow. He didn’t need to. Mack was ready, loose and wet and aching for this specific possession. Will buried himself to the root in one smooth, powerful thrust.
Mack gasped, a sound of pure relief. Yes. This. The fit was perfect. The angle was perfect. Will’s scent, his weight, his presence enveloped him. Cherny’s fucking had been a spectacular, overwhelming novelty. Will’s was like returning home.
Will began to move, and his rhythm was nothing like Cherny’s frantic, worshipful pace. This was punishing, deep, measured, hard. Each withdrawal was almost complete, each return a forceful, driving slam that rocked Mack’s body up the polished table surface. The sound was different too—a heavier, wetter slap of flesh, a grunt of effort from Will that was less about passion and more about making a statement.
“You feel him inside you?” Will grunted, his hips pistoning. “You feel where he was?”
“I—I feel you,” Mack moaned, his head lolling back. “Only you.”
“That’s right,” Will said, his voice tight with strain. “You forget him. You forget his cock. You only feel mine.”
He changed his angle slightly, driving upward, and the new pressure against Mack’s swollen inner walls sent a fresh bolt of lightning through him. Will knew his body, knew exactly how to work him. He was hitting spots Cherny had missed, re-igniting nerves with a proprietary expertise.
Mack’s hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth table. He found none. He was utterly at Will’s mercy, being fucked with a deliberate intensity that was both loving and vengeful. He looked past Will’s shoulder, his eyes finding Cherny.
Cherny was still standing there, obedient to Will’s command. His face was a canvas of conflicted emotions—a residue of awe, a sting of humiliation, a dark, dawning arousal at the scene unfolding before him. His own cock, semi-hard again, was visible through his loose sweats. He was watching Mack be taken, be dominated, be reminded of his true place. And he couldn’t look away.
“Look at him, Mack,” Will ordered, catching Mack’s line of sight. “Look at him watching me take what he just had. Look at him knowing it was never really his.”
Mack’s gaze locked with Cherny’s. Cherny’s blue eyes were wide, hungry, ashamed. Mack felt a strange pang of sympathy mixed with a perverse thrill. He was the prize, the object of this silent, brutal contest between the two alphas. And Will was winning.
Will’s thrusts became faster, losing some of their measured control as his own climax approached. The force was incredible. Mack felt himself being pushed, his shoulders inching toward the edge of the table. Will’s hands gripped his hips tighter, holding him in place, anchoring him as he drove into him again and again.
The room was a symphony of their sounds: Will’s ragged breathing, Mack’s high, continuous moans, the wet, rhythmic slap of their joining, and the quiet, tense silence from Cherny.
“You’re mine,” Will growled, each word punctuated by a deep thrust. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” Mack gasped, the words torn from him.
“Always mine.”
“Always!”
Will’s control snapped. His final drives were frantic, powerful, burying himself as deep as possible with each plunge. Mack could feel the tension in his body, the coil of his own release tightening once more under the relentless assault. Will was fucking him through the oversensitivity, through the exhaustion, into a fourth, staggering peak.
With a shout that was more triumph than pleasure, Will slammed home and held, his body shuddering as he came. Mack felt the hot pulse of his release through the condom, the intimate flood marking his insides, and it triggered his own climax. It was less violent than the others, a deep, rolling wave of sensation that left him trembling and gasping, his cunt spasming weakly around Will’s still-hard cock.
Will stayed buried inside him for a long moment, his weight pressing Mack into the table, his forehead resting against Mack’s shoulder. His breathing was ragged in Mack’s ear.
Slowly, carefully, Will pulled out. He stood up, disposing of the condom with a methodical motion. He looked down at Mack, who lay utterly wrecked, a sheen of sweat and come glistening on his skin, his green eyes half-lidded and unfocused.
Will’s expression softened, the fierce dominance melting into something more familiar—a deep, weary affection. He leaned down and kissed Mack’s forehead, a tender gesture that felt like an apology and a reaffirmation all at once.
Then he turned to Cherny.
Cherny hadn’t moved. He stood like a soldier awaiting judgment.
Will walked over to him, his presence looming. He stopped a foot away, looking Cherny up and down. “You get it then?”
Cherny nodded, a single, stiff dip of his head. “Yes.”
“Good.” Will’s hand came up, not in anger, but to grip Cherny’s shoulder. The hold was firm, almost familial, but the intent was clear. “You played a great game, and you’re a fantastic skater. We couldn’t have won this without you.” Will’s voice was low, devoid of malice now, but full of finality. “But he’s mine.”
Cherny met Will’s gaze. The star-struck awe for Mack was still there, but it was tempered now by a hard, learned respect. “I understand,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Will gave his shoulder a final squeeze, then released him. He turned back to Mack, pulling him gently up from the table. Mack staggered, his legs unsteady, and Will held him, supporting him with an arm around his waist.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Will murmured, his voice now entirely gentle.
As Will began to lead Mack toward the adjoining shower area, Mack looked back at Cherny, who stood alone in the center of the room. His eyes met Mack’s, and in them, Mack saw not resentment, but a deeper, more complex hunger.
Will’s hand tightened on Mack’s waist, pulling his attention back. “Don’t look at him,” Will said softly, but firmly. “Look at me.”
Mack turned his head, leaning into Will’s strength. He was exhausted, fucked-out, and deeply claimed. The confusing, thrilling night was over. The lines had been redrawn.
But as they reached the door to the showers, Mack couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted permanently.