Page 166 of Fallen Omega

Only he doesn’t have any.

He keeps going and the hypersensitivity turns painful, and I moan into his hand, whimpering.

He doesn’t stop. Dante keeps going, until I can’t take it, until it’s so unbearable it could turn?—

Dante stops, and starts to nibble on my inner and outer lips and alternates the soft licking alternates between that. The endorphins flood me and I’m rolling high on them, building and building but I can’t reach it. I can’t get there. Ineed more. I need his tongue, fingers, cock in me, and I start trying to buck my hips up, to tell him with my body.

When he stops, I’m mindless. A mass of nerve endings that crave him. Hate him. Need him.

He lifts his hand from my mouth and smiles. “That’s a fun punishment. And a reward for me. You taste like dessert. Did you know that? What kind? Today, it’s salted caramel. Tomorrow, who knows? Any which way, you’re a fucking tasty treat.”

I want to respond, I do. Tell him no one tastes like dessert, tell him his degrading comment of tasty treat won’t work. But I can’t.

I like being told I’m tasty, I’m dessert. I like the degrading things he says in play. But right now, I hate it. I’m quivering with need and outrage. With shame because I’m not ashamed.

I’m so fucked up I want him to ride me, call me names, take me hard, hurt me in a way that feels good. The hard, deep, pounding fuck kind of good.

A part of my brain wants to scream to get it together, but I have. I think I have.

These three alphas feed into parts of me I never knew existed and make me feel more than the sum of those parts, more than I have before and a wave of heated goodness comes over me.

I look at Dante.

He’s a dirty, cruel, and hard master. He’s wicked and has the charm of the devil, and a deadly bite. He’s filthy and dark and savage. And he’s always, always hungry. It’s there. In his eyes. In the way he looks at me. Like I’m every fucking meal.

I moan as I look down. He’s rubbing me gently, spreading my slick over my pussy and it feels good. “Time for a fucking ride, Angel. Hold on.”

He pulls me to the edge of the table and slams into me, balls deep. I come hard; I can’t help it. No amount of him telling me not to come can stop me.

Dante growls low, and he starts to slam into me so brutally I have to lock my legs around him as the desk slides.

He grabs my face, fingers biting. “You don’t fucking come again. Not until I tell you. Or this is it. The last time I ever fuck you. Look me in the eye, Angel.”

I do and my stomach flips as he surges into me again. I believe him. Oh god, he feels unbelievable. How can I stop coming when he feels this good?

It’s like my body’s made to come for him, for all three of them. And if I’ve any chance of obeying his no come policy, I have to stop myself thinking of them taking me together.

I groan, angling my hips to him as he pounds into me. He lifts me, still fucking me, and takes me to the desk’s chair where he sinks down, me on him. “Work me. Make me come, Angel and then, maybe I’ll let you come.”

He plays with my nipples as he does this and I start to ride him. Soon he’s biting them, sucking them, making me half mad with desire. I rock on him. I need all I can get, and it’s not enough. And I don’t think it’s enough for him, either.

Dante bares his teeth as he lifts his head, eyes glittering with savage intent and he grabs my hips and bounces me hard on him. It doesn’t matter to him I’m cramped up in the chair, legs bent and caught either side.

I can go up and down, and he can control me, and he’s merciless with it.

I’m shaking from trying not to come, whimpering, begging him. All I get is that nasty, feral grin, the one that owns me. The one that tells me this man does whatever he wants to get what he wants and right now, he wants me.

The orgasm is there, so big and just in reach. I’m tingling, aching, needing it. I want to reach out but only the look in his eye stops me.

He keeps going, working me, and my eyes roll back. All I can do is cling to him and help him with the bouncing on his cock. Harder. Wilder, more brutal. It’sgrowing into a thing that’s too much and I’m going to explode.

That’s when I feel it, the swell of his cock. It’s happened twice now so I know what it is, and the feeling’s hot pleasure, relief. Desire. It’s a different sort of thing. An orgasm for the orgasm. Pleasure’s entryway.

As he knots, he slams me down, coming in me. Then he bounces me hard and fast as he growls, almost howling out his pleasure and I lose it. I’m swept up with him. And I swear I black out.

It’s that good.

I’m shuddering and shaking, contracting around his cock, and I’m coming from the tip of my toes to my hair. Everything is pure, pulsating pleasure. And it doesn’t stop.

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