My orgasm ripped through me like a machete, every muscle locked as release spilled out of me like a fucking tsunami. It gushed out of me, and while I’d never squirted and the sensation was impossibly embarrassing, Vinny couldn’t get enough. He moaned as he continued to lick me through my orgasm, drinking me as if I were the only source of water he’d never need. He kept it up until I was sobbing and shaking from overstimulation.
And even still, he kept going. His tongue was gentler now, just small laps and kisses, almost like a cool down after a workout.
I shook beneath him, hands slipping from the sheets to his hair. My fingers trembled as I raked my fingers through his hair, and finally, he let go.
His arms unhooked from around my thighs, muscles visibly twitching.
He looked down at me, his face was soaked, but he looked at me as if I were a piece of art.
“Feel better?” He asked.
I tried to sign something, but my hands flopped uselessly against the sheets.
He chuckled, low and warm, crawling up the bed with his bad arm tucked in close.
“Yeah,” he murmured, “didn’t think you’d be able to sass me after that.”
I cut him a glare as I tried to catch my breath, and he stood as if nothing even happened.
Finally, I managed to signWhere are you going?
He lifted his good shoulder. “After Benji’s stunt, I need to make sure he’s making something good for breakfast as an apology.”
Chapter 18
Violet
Benji was mad at me. That much was obvious.
As the five of us sat around the breakfast table, Benji kept shooting me lingering glances, each one dissecting a different piece of me, and I did my best to act normal.
Slowly, I cut my pancake into even triangles, trying not to gag as the half-cooked strawberries bled into the melted chocolate chips. To me, it looked like bits of flesh had fallen out of someone, and my stomach rioted at the thought of eating it.
Vinny had told me to ask Benji if I wanted something else.
And I did. But I wouldn’t be caught dead asking Benji for anything. Not right now.
So I picked at the neatly cut grapes on the edge of my plate.
Benji stopped chewing and watched me.
“Violet, you need to feed the baby.” He pointed at my stomach, then to my plate.
I blinked, caught off guard.
I’m trying,I signed, before going back to nudging the grapes around.
“Trying isn’t eating.”
He didn’t sound angry, just worried. But his voice was clipped, like he was holding something back. “You’re already thin. The baby needs nutrients. That’s not optional. Skye is a good boy. He eats.”
Vinny’s knife clinked against his plate.“You don’t get to boss around my omegas,” he said, not looking up. “Violet is fine.”
Benji’s jaw twitched as he looked down at his plate.
“Some of us are bonded to her via marks,” he muttered, unbuttoning the top of his chef’s coat and pointing to one of the bite scars on his shoulder. “Violet is starving. She needs to eat.”
“Hey, can we maybenotget into an alpha-beta dick measuring contest?” Serena said, raising her coffee mug.
