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“You have a box at the opera?” I asked.
“Yes, but I rarely go. My mother loved to go and after her death, I never gave it up.” He licked his lips. “Do you waltz?”
“Yes, I was with Mama in Vienna in eighty-nine.”
He grunted and spun me into the dance, which I’d never heard played at an English ball before. There were many fewer couples dancing. I did not blame the omegas. Concentrating became difficult when an alpha drew an omega into a close hold, their powerful body pressed against our own weaker ones.
“I don’t want you to dance with anyone else.” He told me as we began to move with the music. “Jack, of course, but… Perhaps not. He is a far superior dancer to me and you might never want to dance with me again.”
“You are being very sweet,” I realised. “Why?”
“Wooing,” he admitted. I wished we weren’t so close so that I might better see his expression.
“I didn’t pick you as a mate to woo me. If I wanted wooing, I’d have been harder to catch.”
His scent spiked. Arousal rolling off of him in waves so intense that my body began to hum with need.
“You find my… my natural inclinations are pleasing to you.”
I swallowed. My own scent was answer enough for him, and he pulled me closer until his thick thigh slotted between my legs. I whimpered every time my clit rubbed against him.
“Are you certain, Vixen?”
“Will you let us use you how we desire?”
“Haven’t you already?” I smiled.
He purred, and I melted into him, resting completely against his chest. I was no featherweight or pocket Venus, but he danced me around the floor as if I was nothing more than an angel’s breath. I discovered I liked relying on him. Allowing Pax or Jack to take me up and dance me through life.
The music ended, but Pax kept me close against him. Through my thin skirts, I could feel his hard cock pressing against his breeches. How, if I was wearing breeches, I’d be able to rub up against him like an omega in heat, but in my ball gown I’d not be able to ride his thigh as I wished to. Goddess, we were at a ball, and my thoughts were consumed by an omega’s need to seduce her mate. I grinned. This, I realised, was a torment I’d done without for ten years, and now I’d be able to indulge in this mutual torture as often as I desired.
“What has you smiling?” Pax answered my smile with one of his own.
“Just that I can fantasise about you taking me in the middle of a ballroom for the rest of my life.”
He choked, his scent deepened, and my grin morphed into a smirk as his hips ground against mine.
“You Vixen,” he hissed. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”
His intent was a palpable thing, but as he made the move to drag me into a more private corner, the music began to play the second waltz, another hot, hard and familiar body pressed against my back.
“Did you know what your omega did?” Pax growled to my mate, speaking over my head as if my breasts weren’t pressed against his chest.
“Hmmm? What did she do?”
“She thinks it is amusing to taunt me with her body, making my cock hard…”
“Very wicked of you, Trix… Did you tell him how slick you were? Or could he scent it? I can. Your quim must be dripping… Might have to take you into a dark corner where Pax can stuff his cock down your throat while I drink in your sweet nectar.”
I whimpered at the vision he painted. “You are cruel.”
“Hmmm… Hardly. You must frustrate Benedict. I might as well return the favour.”
“The others are dancing,” I said, trying to distract myself, distract them, for their scent told me as clearly as their words how affected they were.
“Do you dance a Pack’s Hold?” Pax asked, referencing a variation on the close hold to be danced with an omega and two of their alphas
“Yes.”
