Page 23 of A Murderous Omega

I released his wrists and sat up, still straddling him. His hands immediately went to my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise some more.

“You want to fuck me?” I asked, rolling my hips slowly.

“Yes. I need—” He broke off with a moan as I ground down harder.

“Need what?”

“I just need—” His fingers dug into my hips. “You. I need you.”

I pulled my sports bra over my head, and his eyes went molten.

“Good.”

I’d barely gotten the word out before he surged up, hands fisting in my hair, and kissed me like I was oxygen and he was drowning—desperate and consuming.

This was raw desire, and I was drunk on it, drunk on the scent of ocean breeze surrounding us, drunk on his alpha pheromones, drunk on his need for me. This beautiful, controlled alpha needed me as much as I needed him.

I kissed him back just as hard, biting his already split lip to make him gasp.

He moaned against my mouth. “More. Mark me, little one.”

I raked my nails down his back, bit his shoulder again, marking him everywhere I could reach as we tore each other’s clothes off. He took it all with broken French and desperate pleas for more.

I sank down onto him in one hard push and his back arched, a broken sound escaping his throat.

There was nothing controlled about the way we fucked. He grabbed my hips and drove up into me with desperate, irregular thrusts. I rode him hard, chasing my own pleasure, my nails leaving bloody tracks down his chest.

“Yes, yes, putain, yes,” he chanted, dissolving into French.

I came with a cry, clenching around him, and he followed immediately, my name on his lips.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both shaking, covered in sweat and blood and each other.

“Goddess,” I finally managed.

“I believe it was my name you were screaming,” he said, but his voice was still wrecked, no smugness in it.

I looked down at him, at the marks I’d left, at the blood on his skin, at the way he was looking at me like I’d given him a precious gift.

“You really meant it,” I whispered. “About my violence.”

“Every word.” He cupped my face, thumb gentle on my bruised jaw. “You’re perfect exactly as you are. Deadly and dangerous and absolutely magnificent.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Conor appeared beside us with water bottles and towels, his expression soft with wonder. “You’re incredible, baby. Both of you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He pulled me into a kiss that tasted like chocolate and peppermint. When he released me, both alphas were looking at me like I’d fucking hung the moon in the stars.

I grabbed a water bottle to give my shaking hands something to do. “I need a shower.”

“Want company?” Conor asked, grinning.

I should say no. I was going to leave them, and goddess, it was going to hurt when I did.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “Yeah, okay.”