Page 105 of Feral Omega

For a breathless moment, I'm sure he's going to force the issue. That he'll bear down and bully his knot past my straining muscles until he splits me open.

But then, to my utter shock, he gentles. The hard lines of his body soften as he exhales a shuddering breath.

"Easy there," he murmurs, trailing the calloused pads of his fingers down my flushed cheek. "No need to push yourself too far just yet."

My eyes flutter open, drinking in the tender expression flickering across his rugged features. There's no impatience there, no frustration or displeasure. Only a raw sort of wonder, like he can hardly believe the gift he's been given.

"You did so good for us'," he croons, leaning in to brush his lips over my brow in a shocking display of tenderness.

I tremble beneath him, torn between disappointment and overwhelming relief. Some primal, needy part of me aches to be claimed in the most permanent way possible. To have my body reshaped and remade to fit my alphas like a glove.

But the wiser, more cautious part of me knows I'm not ready. Not yet.

So I nod shakily, offering Whiskey a tremulous smile of gratitude. He returns it with a wink, hips rolling in a slow, sensuous grind that has us both gasping from the exquisite friction.

"That's my good girl," he growls, thick cock sliding through my depths in a delicious glide. "Just lay back and let us take care of you, yeah?"

I keen softly, back arching as the pleasurable ache builds once more. My hands fist in the sheets, toes curling as that spiraling tension winds tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust.

Thane rumbles his approval from where he lounges beside us, one big palm splaying over the flat plane of my stomach. The grounding weight of it sends a fresh gush of slick coating Whiskey's shaft, my inner muscles fluttering wildly.

"Look at her," Thane marvels in that smoky rasp. "She's fucking glowing."

I flush beneath his heated appraisal, even as another desperate whimper spills free. My fingers seek purchase against the hard wall of Whiskey's chest, body arching into the merciless rhythm he sets.

"Please," I beg, the word torn from my very soul. "I need... I need..."

But I don't have to finish the plea. Whiskey already knows what I crave, already has one calloused thumb finding that aching little bundle of nerves.

The first brush of friction against my swollen clit has me convulsing, a broken cry ripping free. He chuckles darkly, circling the throbbing bud with wicked strokes that border on too much.

It's overwhelming in the most incredible way. Each roll of Whiskey's hips steals what little breath remains in my lungs, each swirl of his thumb over that exquisitely sensitive flesh shattering me into stardust.

My release crashes over me in shattering waves, inner muscles rippling and fluttering around that thick, pulsing length. I shatter apart on a breathless cry, body seizing as rapture washes over me in relentless pulses.

It seems to go on and on, pleasure cresting higher with each powerful stroke until I'm left a boneless, trembling mess between them. Only then do I feel Whiskey's rhythm falter, his hips snapping forward in short, sharp bursts.

I never would have imagined he was the kind of alpha who made sure his omega came first once, let alone multiple times.

He throws his head back on a guttural growl, that thick shaft pulsing as he empties himself in me. I cry out again, overstimulated and raw, my body greedily milking every last drop from him.

When he finally stills, it's with a full-body shudder and a ragged groan. Whiskey collapses against me in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs, his weight pinning me to the mattress.

I lie there dazed and panting, utterly wrung out as purrs tickle my throat. And this time, I don’t try to stop. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, the rush of blood near deafening. I feel deliciously sore in a thousand different places, the lingering ache a heady reminder of how thoroughly I've been claimed and used.

And I actually… enjoyed it?

I feel a curious combination of disbelief and guilt, as if I've somehow betrayed myself in allowing myself to be vulnerable, even for a moment. But for this moment, I just want to enjoy this.

Want to enjoy them.

I whimper softly, my body twitching from the sweet over-stimulation. Whiskey chuckles again and stills, lips finding mine in a surprisingly tender kiss.

"Easy there," he murmurs against my mouth. "Just rest up. This heat ain't over until you manage to take one of our knots in that vice grip of a pussy."

My face flushes with embarrassment, but he's right. As satisfied as I am right now, I can still feel the embers of my heat stirring, and know it'll be back before long—demanding more.

I sigh contentedly, allowing my heavy lids to drift shut as I burrow deeper into the solid warmth of their embrace.

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