Page 182 of Fallen Omega

I shoot him a mild look that he ignores, and his little twist of the knife in her works.

“Well, you can pick up a girl easily,” she snaps. “Or take one of a million women who’d love to do this and have the experience.”

Dante wraps his hand around her throat and squeezes and she makes a sound, another wordless note, one that makes my cock twitch. This is hot. And she’s ours. To do with what we want.

And her little protector isn’t here.

If I’m thinking this, so is Dante.

Dante and I push things to the edge. Always have, always will.

It’s still yin and yang, but we push things, sex, foreplay to the edges, sometimes beyond.

She needs Knight’s soft ways with her.

And she needs the rough primal shit from me, the hardcore treatment from Dante.

She’s turned all the way on. Fucking dialed up and ready to come.

He brings her in, kissing her deep, smearing her lipstick, and then he shoves her at me.

Before she can do anything, I push a hand under her short skirt and shove a finger into her hot, wet cunt, take hold of her nape beneath the wig and drag her in, kissing her hard.

While I do that, fingering her, Dante pulls her thighs apart and shoves two of his fingers in her as well. We work her together, stretching her. Now he takes her mouth, tugging one of her tits free.

“Tell me how I make you fucking feel,” he says. “Tell me you’re not ready to crawl over glass for a taste of my cock.”

She moans, and my blood is hot and thrumming as I lean in, angling her with my free hand while we finger fuck her. He ravishes her mouth and I close mine around her exposed, turgid nipple, biting and sucking her.

“And,” Dante goes on, “tell him you don’t want him to chase you down, make you bleed, wreck your ass. Go on, I fucking dare you.”

Liz comes. And holy fuck, the way her cunt crushes at our fingers is almost fuckingreligious.

He pushes her at me again, freeing her other tit, and I take her mouth in a deep kiss, licking and dueling with her tongue, running mine over her teeth, plundering her mouth deep, as Dante maneuvers her his way.

Liz is gasping, panting, moaning into me. She’s hot and getting hotter, her skin velvet, her body electric.

She starts to come again but Dante releases her, pulling out and dragging my hand from her, too.

“No!” Liz tries to make us touch her again but I know what he’s doing. It’s not my jam, but I like it when she’s so fucking open like this. “Please! I want it. All of it. And you know it…you…you fuck, Dante. I hate you. I need you. Please… Knight would tell you not to be mean.”

Shit. Wrong words.

But I don’t interfere because she’s a fucking vision of depravity right now.

Spread out, everything on display, a woman who’s just been fucked.

“Oh, Angel,” Dante says against her ear, his fingers dancing over her folds. “Your little get out of jail card’s not here. Guess what? He’s to blame for me cutting you off from more pleasure.”

She tries to focus, to sit up. “What?—”

“Your boyfriend’s to blame for hitting me.”

Her eyes snap to focus. “Griffin?”

I laugh. Oh man.

“Don’t call him that.” I pull her top up, aware the car’s stopped. Time to end the fun and games.

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