Page 36 of A Murderous Omega

I slid my hand down her toned stomach to tangle in the curls at the apex of her thighs. “It’d be cruel if we didn’t get you ready, baby. I promise, we won’t make you want any longer than we have to.”

I shifted, moving between her thighs, admiring the slick that painted the insides of her thighs. “Such a gorgeous, pretty pussy, weeping with need.”

I kissed her, grinning at the faint taste of Emile, his sea salt mixing with her lilac and vanilla on my tongue. He’d fucked her in the shower, the sly bastard.

“Please,” Lark pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s too much. I need⁠—”

“You need us to stretch this pretty pussy so you can take our knots,” I said firmly, working a finger into her perfect, tight heat, then adding a second, and a third.

I bent my lips to her clit and sucked hard as Emile teased her breasts, and she exploded. I didn’t stop my rough fucking, adding a fourth finger as her passage relaxed after her orgasm.

She came again, her hips twitching as she begged us for our knots, insensible and incoherent, a magnificent mess of need and heat.

“One more,” Emile said around the nipple he worried with his teeth, extracting gasps and moans from our sweet girl.

“Don’t make me wait,” Lark whined.

I ground my palm against her clit, surging up to wrap my other hand around her pretty throat.

“Is that a complaint, omega?” I asked her. “Because I can stop right now—leave you tied up and waiting, your pussy soaked with slick, begging an empty room for relief.”

Her eyes widened as I gently pressed on the sides, not enough to truly cut off her air, just enough that she felt the threat.

Her eyes filled with tears, and I wondered if I’d gone too far, when her pussy pulsed around my fingers.

“But you’d rather be a good girl for us, wouldn’t you, Lark?” I continued. “Be our fuck toy, kept full and satisfied, holes ready whenever we want them. That’s what you need, isn’t it, baby?”

“As long as you knot me,” she moaned. “You can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” Emile asked, looking up at her with one eyebrow raised.

“Anything,” she affirmed, pumping her hips, desperate to come again on my fingers.

Once she came, Emile rolled her until she rode him, proud and beautiful, a glowing, golden goddess as he slid straight into her.

“Fuck, Lark,” he moaned.

“Knot,” she commanded. “Now.”

I ran my fingers through her slick, then slipped my finger into her pussy alongside Emile’s cock. She stiffened, then relaxed.

“Is that good, baby?”

She rose up on Emile, then dropped down hard, letting gravity do its work.

I ran my hands up her back, holding her in place so she couldn’t rock her hips over my pack mate like she wanted.

“Conor,” she whined.

“Don’t move, Lark,” I growled at her. Emile twitched his hips, and I nipped his shoulder. “Or you.”

I pulled away to swipe a clean knife from the kitchen, then returned, kneeling behind Lark so she was pressed between us.

“Baby, I’m going to cut you up,” I told her. When she moaned her agreement, I had to fist my cock, holding it tightly so I didn’t embarrass myself by coming all over her back right then and there.

Carefully, I drew the knife down her creamy skin, admiring the red seep of blood in two straight lines down her sides. She moaned as I cut her, throwing her head back and thrusting her gorgeous round tits into Emile’s face.

Emile indulged her, his full lips taking one of her nipples while he kneaded the other breast, digging hard enough into it with his fingers to bruise.