Page 11 of For All My Effort

My name on his lips was like a beckoning call. I leaned forward, pressing our chests together until I reached his mouth, needing to taste him.

He groaned against my lips as I kissed him. I felt his hands come to my hips, pressing me harder against him as he sat up, never pulling his mouth from mine. Our heads almost touched the hanging fabrics, but I didn’t care. My attention was on exploring his mouth, my hands on the back of his neck to keep him where I wanted.

At some point I had to pull away to breathe. Each inhale was full of our mixed scents—lavender and berry and arousal.

He leaned back in first, his fingers tightening around my waist as his tongue traced my lips, then went inside to play with my own. I felt him hardening even further against me, like a tease of what I could enjoy if he wasn’t wearing underwear.

Then his lips moved, kissing down my jaw toward my neck, sucking on the skin like he wanted to mark me with a hickey. I never would’ve thought my neck was so erotic, yet I leaned my head more to the side, giving him more access.

When his lips moved lower, one of his hands moved to pull down my collar, giving him more access to my skin. I felt his tongue trace the bone there, moving toward the little dent at the base of my throat. He groaned, the sound vibrating from his lips, against my own skin, and exciting something deep in my core.

I started moving my hips, first forward and back, sliding down his hidden length, feeling how good it was to have pressure where I was starting to feel empty.

Then one of his hands moved between our bodies, stopping my movement when I had just started to feel the sparks of pleasure.

“Be good, omega,” Zeke growled. “I’m going to give you pleasure.”

I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout. What was that supposed to mean? I was always good. Like a fucking fairy and sweeter than chocolate that was melting on your fingers before you even lifted it to your tongue.

Any retort I had died on my lips when I felt Zeke’s hand touch me. Not around my waist, or near my hip. Under my clothes. Over my center. Swiping through the dripping slick that I naturally produced buckets of every time I got aroused.

He didn’t hesitate, shoving two fingers inside my core. Even with all the lubrication from my slick, his two fingers were still a stretch—the best kind in the world.

With the way his hand was positioned, the tightness from my clothes, each thrust with his fingers had the heel of his palm pressing against my clit.

I was trying to get words out, any words, praising him, begging for more, but I couldn’t think past the pleasure. My thighs slammed down in opposition with his hand, increasing my desire even as my muscles began to ache. Only, the burn somehow made it better.

Zeke’s free arm wrapped more tightly around my back, drawing me even closer to him. All the pleasure had me leaning my head against his shoulder, needing a break to breathe even though my movements never stopped.

I was planting kisses anywhere I could reach. His shoulder, his neck, his collarbone.

Throughout every part of my body, my pulse was pounding. Sweat was trickling down the sides of my head. We were both panting, breathing in each other’s air. Even my stomach was tightening with my nearing orgasm.

The climax started in my core, reaching up and squeezing every muscle in my lower abdomen before tightening its hold around my lungs, forcing my scream to be quiet as the bliss wrecked every part of me. My head fell back, exposing my throat to my alpha in an ultimate sign of trust.

Until I realized that I couldn’t seem to inhale. Immediately, my head sprang upward, banging my chin against my mate’s head who’d been leaning down to kiss my neck.

“Shit. Fuck. Hannah, you okay, babe?”

Zeke lifted his head, and I watched his eyes basically bulge as he stared at me. I knew my mouth was open, attempting to suck in any air I could manage, but my lungs weren’t listening to me. My head was starting to become heavy on my neck, even as my thoughts were becoming harder to hold onto.

Then, Zeke started yelling. First the names of the other alphas then for them to call help as he moved me so I was lying on the mattress, on my side. I tried reaching for him, but he was too busy slamming a hand against my back, the other holding my shoulder steady.

Han was the first to arrive, just moments before Sebastian and Jackson.

Another set of hands started on my chest, rubbing circles, while someone else started pressing against my stomach. Blackness began creeping in at the edges of my vision before my neck was twisted at an awkward angle, and I was staring at Jackson.

“Breathe. Now.” His alpha command rushed through me, and I finally managed to gasp in air, choking on the cold and dry feeling of it along my throat.

I heard Seb announce that he was getting me some water and then I was unceremoniously rolled onto my back as I sucked in lungsful of air.

“What the hell?” Han asked.

Zeke ran a hand over his head, his short hair not giving him anything to yank or pull on. He looked panicked—his eyes large, easily showing the whites, and his cheeks flushed with a slight red that was reaching down his throat. Even his chest was raising and falling a few inches with every heavy breath.

Trying to push my way to a sitting position was harder than it should be with Jackson attempting to forcefully push me back down. I swatted his hands away, glaring at the male before he finally let me up.

“She just stopped breathing,” Zeke said. Then he turned his attention to me, glaring at me. “What the fuck, Hannah?”

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