She pulls off, and a string of saliva slides from her lips, trailing down her chin and neck. Her chest heaves as she catches her breath, and her eyes find mine.
“Is Thistle okay?”
The question is so normal, so grounded, that it nearly breaks me. Here she is, naked and flushed and kneeling between two men, and she’s asking about her cat.
“Perfect,” I tell her. “He ate. He’s fine.”
She smiles. Then she turns back to Griffin, presses a kiss to the tip of his cock, and swallows him again.
My hands are on my belt before I even realize I’m moving. I shove my pants down, step out of them, and wrap my hand around my cock. I stroke myself once, twice, the friction almost painful against my oversensitive skin. Pre-come beads at the tip and slides over my knuckles.
I stand there, just inside the doorway, watching her work. Watching the way her cheeks hollow when she sucks, the way Griffin’s abs tense with every stroke, the way her ass sways in the air. Silas is behind her on the cushions, his hands on her hips, guiding her back and forth. She’s rocking against his lap, grinding down on him, and the sight of it—the three of them moving together, connected—makes my balls tighten.
“Come closer, Damon.”
This is a command from an Omega to her Alpha, and my body obeys before my brain catches up.
I cross the room in five strides. She reaches for me without taking her mouth off Griffin, her hand finding my cock and pulling me toward her. Her fingers wrap around the shaft, and I hiss through my teeth. Her grip is slick—maybe from Silas, maybe herself—and the glide of her palm is obscene.
“That’s it,” Griffin groans. “Just like that.”
I slide my hand into her hair. It’s soft between my fingers, still slightly damp from the rain. I don’t push or pull. I just hold her, feeling the movement of her head through my palm as she works us both. She switches between us—three strokes on Griffin, three on me, back and forth, her tongue doing somethingwicked to the underside of my cock before she returns to Griffin and takes him deep enough that he curses.
Silas is watching from behind her. His hands are on her hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh just above her ass, and he’s rocking her back and forth. The knot has gone down enough that he’s freed from her, but he’s not done. Not even close.
“Your mouth feels so good,” Griffin says. The words come out broken, barely held together. His free hand finds her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “So fucking good, baby.”
She hums around him, and he shudders.
I look down at her—at this woman who has occupied every quiet moment of my thoughts for the past few months—and I feel something crack open in my chest. Not lust, though there’s plenty of that. Something deeper. Something that has no place in a scene like this but refuses to leave anyway.
She pulls off Griffin and turns her face toward me, her lips swollen and wet, and takes me into her mouth.
The heat of her mouth is enough to make my knees buckle. She takes me deep, her throat fluttering around the head of my cock, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from coming right there.
Griffin shifts beside me. His cock is wet from her mouth, and his eyes are locked on where she’s taking me in. There’s a tension in his jaw, a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. I recognize it. I’ve seen it in my own reflection enough times.
Possessiveness. The Alpha instinct screaming that she’s his, not mine.
“She’s good at that,” Griffin says. The words come out clipped.
“Yeah.” I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I look at him, I’ll see the challenge in his eyes, and I’ll have to respond to it. “She is.”
Caroline pulls off me with a slick pop, gasping for air. A strand of saliva connects her lips to my cock before breaking. She turns to Griffin and takes him back into her mouth, and the sight of it—her lips stretched around him, her cheeks hollowing—makes something primal surge in my chest.
Mine, my Alpha snarls.She’s mine.
No. Not mine.Ours.
The distinction matters. It has to matter, or this whole thing falls apart.
Silas’s hands tighten on Caroline’s hips. He pulls her back against his lap, grinding her down on his cock, and she moans around Griffin. The vibration makes him curse, his hand flying to her hair alongside mine. Our fingers brush. We both pull back like we’ve been burned.
“Easy,” Silas says. Not to her. To us. “You’re both crowding her.”
“She can take it,” I snap.
“Doesn’t mean she should have to.” Silas’s eyes meet mine over her shoulder. Dark. Calculating. “There’s three of us and one of her. If we don’t figure out how to share, we’re going to hurt her.”
