Page 93 of Desperate Omega

Then they start to purr.

I cannot hear it over the chanting of the crowd, but I can feel it, deep vibrations gliding over my body like a physical touch, caressing, licking. It’s the same sensation I felt that day in the graveyard when Thorus undid Markus’s knot. The difference is that this time there are three voices moving over my skin.

Did Thorus teach the two younger alphas how to do that?

He must have.

And they’ve been keeping it a secret all this time, waiting to surprise me with it now at the start of the mating ritual.

The alphas continue to circle. They are closer now, but still outside the ring of candles, and still well beyond arm’s reach. Nevertheless, they are able to touch me with their voices—and touch me they do, inside and out. Their purring passes over me and through me, massaging my most personal and sensitive places, my breasts, my buttocks, my clitoris, my anus.

Even my womb.

I writhe and moan in ecstasy as my hands chase the alphas’ voices. I rub myself through the fabric of my ceremonial gown. I caress my own curves. I squeeze my own breasts. I touch between my legs.

If the alphas keep this up, they won’t need to rip this gown off me; I’ll do it myself.

Around us, the chanting of the crowd intensifies.

They are already enjoying the show.

My three alphas have reached the ring of candles, but they do not step inside yet. They continue to circle and purr. They join forces and focus their vibrations between my legs, coordinating their efforts so it feels like they are thrusting into me, fucking me with their voices, breeding me with their song.

When my climax comes, it is hard and quick, like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. It is so sudden, so unexpected, that it buckles my legs, and I start to go down.

Three pairs of strong hands catch me, arresting my fall.

My alphas are with me inside the ring of candles now.

The ritual has truly begun.

CHAPTER 38: SYRA

Thorus is standing right in front of me, and he is the first to claim my mouth. He drags my body against his and kisses me so hard it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain, the kind that leaves no question about who is in charge. He holds me tight, flattening my breasts against the hard expanse of his torso. Lower down, I feel his massive erection throbbing through the leather of his loincloth and the patchwork fabric of my gown.

When he has drunk his fill of me, Thorus tugs my head back none too gently. Then, with his fist still clutching my hair, he turns me around so the other two alphas can have a taste. Brik’s kiss is rough and hungry. Markus’s is deep and soulful. They both make my heart flutter and my slick flow.

My heat cycle ended several days ago, and I would say there’s no way my estrus could be starting again so soon, but the way these alphas are making me feel, I’m not so sure.

As long as I am with them, I fear I am doomed to be in a permanent state of arousal.

They are my affliction, and my cure.

When Markus and Brik are done kissing me, Thorus turns me to face him again, and he tugs my head back so that I am looking up into his dark, stern face. All around us, the crowd is chanting loudly, but I barely even hear them. All my attention is on Thorus.

“Little one,” he whispers. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

I’m beyond ready. Were it not for Thorus’s fist in my hair, I would already be on my knees in front of him, and he would already be in my mouth. I don’t even care that a crowd is watching us. I want him inside me. I want all three of my mates inside me.

Thorus nods in satisfaction at my answer, then his eyes shift away from my face, and he looks at the two younger alphas standing behind me.

“Remove her gown,” he growls.

Markus and Brik close in on either side of me, two alphas moving as one. They grab the shoulders of my gown and pull in opposite directions. There is a whisper of ripping fabric as the garment peels away from me in two clean halves, and just like that, I am naked.

With one exception.