Page 202 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

Both of them fill me to the hilt and pause.

The three of us breathe together. Nobody moves. Max is right there, stroking my hair, watching my face.

“You’re perfect, little one,” he murmurs.

The fire inside me is burning now, the need so strong it makes my vision blur.

“Please,” I moan. “Rut into me. I need to feel both of you. Now.”

The rut takes both of them at once.

Finn’s hips slam up into me and Ethan drives forward at the same time and the scream that tears from my throat doesn’t sound human. They find a rhythm that is brutal and perfect, Finn thrusting up as Ethan pounds into me from behind, and I’m pinned between them, my face buried in Finn’s neck, my nails raking his chest, my moans so loud they fill the room.

Finn is growling beneath me, his teeth bared, his hands gripping my hips as he slams into me over and over, his eyes glazed and feral. Behind me Ethan is breathing in ragged bursts against my shoulder, his grip on my waist iron-tight, driving into me with a force that only makes me beg for more. They’re both lost to the rut now—it’s in the way they move, their scents flooding the room so thick and dark I can taste them in every breath I take.

The bond is tightening between us. I can feel it—Finn’s tether pulling taut from where he’s beneath me, Ethan’s from behind, both of them reaching for the place where Max’s bond already hums.

“I’m going to—” I can’t finish. The orgasm is building like a wall, rising too fast to stop.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Finn gasps. “Come for us.”

“Come for your alphas, sweet girl,” Ethan manages.

Both knots begin to swell at the same time, and the double stretch pushes me over the edge.

I shatter.

The orgasm tears through me in waves that don’t stop, my body clenching around both of them, their names breaking out of my throat.

“Ethan. Finn,” I gasp. “Mark me.”

Finn’s hand finds the back of my head. He tilts my face toward him, and his blue eyes are wet, so full of love it stops my heart.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Every day, for the rest of my life.”

He lowers his mouth to the left side of my throat and bites down.

The bond locks into place—sudden and bright, sunlight and honey flooding through my chest, and I feel Finn—not just his body but him, the warmth and the laughter and the fierce, stubborn loyalty and the way he loves with his whole self, holding nothing back.

“Ethan,” I breathe. “Please.”

He presses his lips to the right side of my throat. I reach back and find his hand and hold it.

“I trust you,” I whisper. “I choose you.”

He bites.

Cedar and old paper pour through me, and the bond is a river—deep and steady and ancient, and I feel Ethan, the quiet devotion, the patience, the love he has been carrying so carefully for so long, and it is vast, so much vaster than I ever imagined, and I am crying now, tears streaming down my face, because I can feel all three of them at once.

Max, steady and warm, a foundation. Finn, bright and fierce, a heartbeat. Ethan, quiet and deep, a certainty.

Three bonds. Three scents. All of them woven into mine.

Finn lifts his head. His blue eyes are wet and the look on his face makes me reach for him and pull him close.

Ethan’s arms are trembling around me. His forehead rests on my shoulder, and I feel him breathing, ragged and unsteady.

Max’s hand finds mine across the bed and laces our fingers together. I don’t need to look at him. I can feel him through the bond—the love in him, so fierce and unwavering.