Jude presses his hand further along my side, brushing my ribs, and leans in for another kiss at my temple. My body shudders, muscles tightening and releasing in reflex.
Every nerve is alight, every sense hyperaware.
Ryker’s lips brush mine again, this time teasing. My hands move instinctively, tangling in his hair, feeling the fire beneath his skin.
My body is caught in a trap of desire, unable to disentangle, and yet I don’t want to.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers in my ear.
His words make a pulse jump through me. My body reacts, every muscle, every nerve, responding instinctively.
Ryker slides forward again, capturing my lips fully, and I give myself over, letting him taste, let him claim, while Jude’s hands roam.
I’m an Omega, yes, but here, right now, I’m theirs. Both of them, simultaneously, and my body responds without shame, without hesitation.
When Ryker pulls back, groaning low and heavy, I’m still catching my breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. Jude presses his lips to my shoulder, teeth grazing, sending another shiver down my spine.
I can’t think past the sensation, past the closeness, past the overwhelming need thrumming in my body. I let myself surrender completely, body and mind.
Warm hands press against me, cupping and massaging my breasts through my sweater. I don’t know whose they are, but the sensation has my body betraying me instantly.
I whimper, breath hitching, the wet heat between my thighs making me dizzy. Jude’s lips find mine again, and I can’t help the small sigh that escapes.
His voice is low against my lips. “You need to be quiet.”
“Okay,” I breathe, but my body protests, every nerve alive, every inch of me craving more.
Ryker’s fingers curl under the hem of my sweater, tugging it up just enough for his lips to ghost over my stomach, teasing the soft skin above my belly button.
A hot pulse flares in my chest, spreading low and heavy through my body. My hands dig into his shoulders, nails catching on his skin as I shiver, a small gasp slipping out before I can stop it.
Ryker’s lips trail upward from my stomach, teasing closer to the edge of my bra. His hand cups the curve of my breast again, thumb circling over the nipple through the sweater.
My hips shift automatically, pressing into him, and I feel him stiffen against my side.
“You’re making me so hard,” Ryker groans low, just above a whisper. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Jude’s hands tighten on my waist, sliding over my sides, fingers grazing the thin fabric of my jeans, and I shiver violently.
“Yeah,” he murmurs against my lips, tongue tracing over mine for a moment before he pulls back just enough to whisper, “you have no idea what you’re doing to us.”
My body betrays me completely—thighs pressing together, stomach twisting with heat, chest heaving. Every brush of their hands and lips sends shockwaves through me.
The friction of my jeans against my lower body makes the coil of need between my legs almost unbearable. My hands clutch their arms, digging nails into skin, pulling them closer.
“I… I can’t… not… want…” I gasp, my voice trembling, the words barely forming. Every nerve is alive, begging for contact, craving more, needing more.
I’m lifted, pressed against the sofa cushions, my legs folding beneath me as Jude slides closer on the other side. Their hands trail over me in different ways—one palm brushing over my side, thumb circling the tender skin just beneath my ribs, the other fingers threading through the waistband of my jeans, barely touching.
My back arches without thought, chest rising and falling as their mouths claim my jaw, my neck, tracing the curve to my collarbone. Each lick, each kiss, sends sparks from my spine to the tips of my fingers.
Heat pools between my thighs, tight and insistent. My hands wander despite myself, clutching their arms, trying to anchorthem to me, feeling the sinew under skin, the warmth of their bodies.
They mirror me, pressing closer, their fingers gliding over my hips, tracing lines that make my knees press together instinctively. One of them brushes against my panties over my jeans.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Ryker groans. “I can’t… not like this.”
Jude leans in, lips brushing the hollow of my neck, his hand gliding over my ribs, teasing the skin above the edge of my jeans.
