Page 171 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

She looks thoroughly ravished. And I want to ravish her again.

She catches me looking. A small smile pulls at her mouth.

“Join me?” She asks it almost shyly, her eyes lifting to meet mine, and the contrast between this and the woman whose moans I heard through the wall while Finn had her on the couch just an hour ago makes me smile.

“Are you sure? You’ve had a long night. I ran this bath so you could relax for a bit.”

“Ethan.” She looks up at me. “How about you help me relax?”

My cock jumps so hard inside my boxers that there’s no hiding it, and Sophie’s eyes drop to the movement immediately. I watch her gaze fix on the outline of me straining beneath the fabric—the thick ridge of it—and her scent intensifies so sharply the steam in the room seems to thicken. Her lips part, and I know—I know—she wants to touch me, wants to wrap her hand around me, maybe her mouth, and if she does I will last approximately two seconds.

“Soph,” I say, amused. “My eyes are up here.”

She looks up, almost guilty, and I have to smile. She’s blushing through the flush already on her cheeks, and the combination—this lethal, beautiful woman caught staring at my cock like a teenager—makes me even harder, which I didn’t think was possible.

“You look different without your glasses,” she murmurs, her wet fingers reaching up to touch my face, tracing my jaw, the bridge of my nose.

“Different good?” I ask, my hands closing around her wrists, holding her hands against my face.

“I like both,” she says softly.

“Well,” I whisper, turning my head to press my lips against her palm. “I think I prefer you without clothes.”

I lean in and kiss her. She moans against my mouth immediately, her wet hands gripping my jaw, and the kiss turns savage in an instant—her tongue sliding over mine, her teeth catching my lower lip and pulling, and I feel it in the base of my spine. Her back arches out of the water toward me, her bare breasts pressing to my chest, wet and warm and soft, and I have to grip the edge of the tub to keep from climbing in on top of her.

I pull back and she makes a small, protesting sound that nearly undoes every ounce of restraint I have left.

“I’m here to help you relax, remember, sweet girl?” I say against her lips.

Then I stand and push my boxers down. In the mirror, I see her eyes drop and widen as she takes me in, and the surprise on her face sends a dark thrill through me. Before either of us can linger on it, I step into the tub behind her.

The water is hot. Sophie shifts forward to make room and I slide in behind her, my legs on either side of hers, and she leans back into my chest—her head finding the hollow of my shoulder, her wet skin warm and slippery on mine. My cock presses into the small of her back, and I feel her breath catch when she registers what it is. But instead of moving away, she presses closer.

“Mm,” I murmur, feeling her hips shift back into me. “Occupational hazard of being near you.”

She laughs softly and I feel it against my chest.

I start with her shoulders, pressing into the tight muscles, working out the tension, and she moans softly, her body loosening under my hands. I work down her arms, her wrists, lifting each one and pressing my thumbs into her palms. I lace my fingers through hers, and the sight of it stops me—her hand is so small in mine, swallowed by my palm. I hold it there for a moment, our linked hands resting on the surface of the water, and something about the size difference makes my throat tight.

I press my lips to her knuckles and let go, and my hands keep moving. I learn every sound she makes—the sigh when I press a knot in her shoulder, the hum when my fingers trace her sternum. My hands slide over the soft skin of her stomach. Lower.

My hands find her hips under the water. I trace the crease where her thighs meet her pelvis, my thumbs drawing slow circles, and her legs fall open slightly. An invitation she may not even be aware she’s making.

“Ethan...” Her voice is rougher now.

“Mm.” My hands slide down to her hips, her outer thighs, then back up, and my fingers trace the curve of her lower back, drifting lower until they find the swell of her ass. I squeeze gently and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.

“You have the most incredible body,” I tell her, my fingers kneading the flesh of her ass under the water. “Do you know that? Every curve. Every inch of you.”

“Ethan—” She rocks back, her hips pressing my cock harder into her back. “That doesn’t feel like a massage anymore.”

“No,” I agree, my thumb tracing the cleft of her ass in a lazy stroke. “It doesn’t.”

I slide one hand down between her legs. She’s swollen and slick even in the water, and when my fingers part her folds she gasps and her hand grips my thigh under the surface. She’s still full of them—I can feel it, Max’s and Finn’s cum mixed with her own slick, warm and thick around my fingers, and the alpha in me surges.

“You’re so full of their cum, sweet girl.” My free hand tilts her head to the side, my lips brushing her ear. “Did you like it when they fucked you? When they knotted this perfect little pussy?”

“Yes,” she moans as I slide a finger inside her and curl it.