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Just the knowledge that he still might has me raging with lust so potent it is a wonder I’ve not fucking expired.
“Please.” My voice is a croak. I feel fucking weak to beg. “I’ll lose my fucking mind if I cannot put my hands on her.”
He breaks their kiss and rises slowly.
She whimpers. He draws her cheek against his thigh and strokes her hair. My eyes dart between them. He watches my reaction with a stern expression.
She remains where he leaves her on her knees and rubs her cheek against his thigh.
Gods. He is so fucking natural at this. It is like his fucking calling or something.
He doesn’t say anything. He waits. Making me fucking stew in my own torment. How can he be so fucking calm?
My eyes find his cock straining against his pants, and my lips tug up. “You are not fucking immune.”
“I never claimed to be,” he says casually, reaching down to adjust his cock. My mouth waters. I want to touch him there, to kiss him. And her, our omega with her ripe fuck-me scent. I want to spread her legs and bury my head between them.
“Come, little one,” he says, drawing Freya to her feet.
Her eyes roam over me, taking how I stand to rigid attention, my cock jutting out like a welcome flagpole, jerking as if to entice her, or him, to touch.
His hand is soothing on her hair. He purrs. She is under his spell, just as I am.
“You’re going into heat,” he says, cupping her cheek and drawing her eyes toward his. “Do you want to make a nest?”
The bed is made. In anticipation of the cold, it is thick with furs and blankets. But there are more that we have carefully gathered over the weeks… the softest, most appealing blankets and furs for an omega in heat.
She glances at me and then back to Lor. “Please. I think I do, but I’m too hot.” She tugs ineffectively at her gown.
Lor smiles. “Aston” —My body jerks to attention like he’s got me on a leash. My balls draw tight, and my cock ejects a heady blob of pre-cum— “Strip her,” he says. And then he steps back.
I blink a few times, thinking this is a fucking trap or a trick. When nothing manifests, I all but tear the lass from his side.
My hands shake as I cup her shoulders. I want to kiss her, but he has not given me permission for that. He told me to strip her, so I do… taking liberties within the bounds of that order. She moans and grumbles as I slide my hands all over her delectable little body, waist to hip, lower belly, cupping her pussy through the material, feeling how hot she is there as I undo the tiny little buttons that run the length of her back. She rocks against me, pushing her breasts up for more.
I swallow thickly, sliding my hand up to cup her tits, squeezing them together, and admiring the sight. I wanted her two years ago. It nearly fucking killed me to leave without claiming her, yet I knew it was the right thing to do. Leaning forward, I breathe in her sweet scent, then reach behind her and release the last few buttons on her gown.
The material is heavy, and I help it off, skimming hands over her exposed flesh as it slides down over her shoulders and chest, until her perfect, plump tits spill out. I’m halfway out of my fucking mind as I catch her pert nipples between my finger and thumb and give them a vigorous pinch.
She moans and arches up. She wants more.
The dress slides off her, and I follow it with my hands down over her ass, pushing at her pretty silk panties with the gown.
Gods, her ass. Just seeing it naked is enough to wreck me. I squeeze her plump ass cheeks together as the material catches at her hips. She twitches, and the gown and panties slip free to pool on the floor, leaving a naked beauty before me.
I lose control. My fingers are in her hair, my lips poised over hers, about to kiss her, when a deep growl brings me back from the brink.
“On the bed. You have permission to eat her out.”
My chest heaves. I sweep her into my arms, carry her to the bed, and drop her in the middle. A pretty blush stains her cheeks, spreading down her throat and over the upper swell of her tits. I palm them, squeezing them together, pinching both nipples roughly, and she arches up, liking the bite.
Only my focus is taken by the rich, sweet scent filling my nose—slick.
I growl. There is no preamble. I spread her open and bury my head between her thighs so I can breathe in her enticing smell. I lick. Hot, wet stickiness—it is like fucking ambrosia to an alpha. I groan and purr as I feast on her perfect pink cunt.
Lor hasn’t told me she can come. But he also hasn’t told me she cannot.
Her wild moans and fingers fisting my hair tell me she is fucking close.
