Page 57 of Knot a Thief

It’s all about getting an heir.

“Fuck me,” she purrs as she gets on her hands and knees and crawls to Max at the side of the bed.

“Now why don’t you let us be in control,” I say, grabbing hold of her wrist. Our gazes lock, and she lets out a sharp breath as my bruising grip tightens around her.

She has no fucking idea how much her life is about to change.

Because we want her. But not in the way alphas need omegas. We both sought her for very different reasons.

I saved her life once—she doesn’t know it—but she owes me for it.

Her gaze falls on my fingers, but she doesn’t flinch at the way the tips dig into her flesh.

No, of course she doesn’t.

She pulls her bottom lip through her teeth and looks at me, wide-eyed and hopeful. “Please.”

Fuck!

I wish she’d stop looking at me with such longing in her eyes. I wish she wasn’t so damn fucking pretty. But I always knew what she looked like, despite ...

I can’t go there.

“Alpha,” she murmurs. “I need your knot. I’m aching again.”

My cock throbs at her desperate beg.

Max grips her jaw in his hand, squeezing until she focuses on him, or more importantly, on his cock.

He pushes his dick between her lips. “Suck me,” he orders as he steps nearer to the nest.

When her mouth covers the end, her slender throat ripples, and a pretty moan escapes her lips. She swallows the glossy pre-cum from the end.

“You like my taste, omega?”

“Hmm.” The sound muffled.

I take a moment to take in her body. It’s nice, but she’s too toned for my liking. It’s from all the training we know she does to be a successful criminal.

She slides her mouth up and down Max’s dick while her hand reaches out to me.

I growl, seeing three scars on her wrist. I know how it happened and if those bastards who kidnapped her weren’t already dead before I realized Ava was my mate, I’d have killed them myself.

She pulls off Max’s cock for a moment, looks at me, and gasps, “Fuck me.”

I don’t move.

“Silas,” Max grunts. “Continue your grudge once this is over. Your omega needs you.”

But she’s not my omega, is she?

I shake away my maudlin thoughts, stopping whatever was scurrying to the surface.

She squeezes her thighs together, and her voice is a husky whisper. “Silas?”

“Omega, it’s Alpha,” I growl.

“Please, Alpha,” she whispers, without a hint of fear at my tone.

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