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Not a virgin anymore, I think, and it’s half-shame and half-pride that fills me.
Even if the voices still crowd my head, calling me a whore and all the things I’ve heard over my years at the Temple about omegas—bitches in heat, sex-addicts, nymphomaniacs—who cares?
I’m sure my mind will catch up at some point and show me that I do care, that I’m confused, but I’m getting used to this alternate reality where I crave these men, where my body knows what it’s good for it. For me.
Because I’m shaking, too, shaking with the rightness of it, of some deep need in me finally met, and all I know is that now it won’t stop. It won’t let me go.
Now I need more.
14
ARIADNE
“You okay, sweetheart?” Taj’s voice in my ear startles me, rouses me. “Did sex with me knock you out?”
With a huff, I struggle to sit up, lifting my head off his padded shoulder, but his grip on my hips tightens.
“Did I hurt you?” he breathes. “I realize that for a first time, the tub and this position weren’t the best. I apologize for that, though I won’t apologize for fucking you. I’ll never regret that.”
“I’m okay, I just…” I hiss a little when my movements jostle his cock inside me. It’s softer than it was before, but it’s still big and I feel bruised inside. “It was good.”
“That’s all?” He huffs a laugh. “Didn’t I manage to blow your mind?”
I try again to get off him and this time he helps me with a muttered curse. I moan when he slowly pulls out of me. I turn my head to look at him and smile.
“I loved it, Taj.”
His frown smooths out and he grins at me. “You did, huh?”
I nod and glance over at Kiaran who is still lazily stroking himself. The plump head of his cock is flushed dark, and every time it appears over his big fist, I feel an answering throb down below. His head has fallen back against the rim of the wooden tub. Washed clean of most of the grime, his chest gleams like white marble, all chiseled lines and smooth planes, a dark scar on his left arm, another on a muscular thigh.
My pussy throbs. My core clenches painfully. My breath comes in short gasps.
“Kia…” Goddess, he looks like a fallen god, water droplets glistening on his trimmed beard, on his flushed cheekbones and pale lashes. His tresses trail in the water.
“I want you,” he says, “now,” and releasing his cock, he grabs my arms and drags me through the water over to him.
I fall against his chest with a yelp, and his mouth crashes on mine before I can catch my breath, his hands going to my ass. His fingers slide between my legs and push into me, relentless, not giving respite.
Fucking me in hard strokes where I ache and burn and want.
Giving something but not all of what I crave.
Slowly, he pulls his fingers out, making me whimper, sucking on my lower lip and lifting those two fingers to his nose to smell them.
A groan escapes him.
I need him. I rub my face against his bearded cheek, drawing in his scent, needing to smear it all over me.
“Ariadne,” he breathes, his voice rough. His eyes dip to my breasts, my nipples hard and aching. They pucker more under his gaze. “I fucking want you.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, please…”
His cock bobs between our bodies. I put my hands on it, close my fingers around its fat girth, and he leans back, softly groaning. I play with it, explore its shape, its hardness.
I lift up on my knees in the water, straddling him, rubbing his cock against my belly, drawing in an uneven breath when it swells more, a vein beating under the silky skin. It moves in my hands with a life of its own.
His stomach muscles tighten, his neck arches back, and he mumbles a vicious curse.
