Page 156 of Juliet & Her Romeos

“And the Omega wins. The crowds go wild.” Vito cheers.

I’m vibrating with the buzz of winning.

I drop the controller, twisting on Vito’s lap to place my hands on his shoulders.

I did it.

I truly beat an Alpha.

Vito throws down his controller. “I give up.”

“What was that?” Swan’s voice is low and dangerous.

He pins Vito firmly in place.

“Jules wins.” Vito doesn’t seem at all unhappy about it. “I lose,” he adds, merrily.

I lean closer to Vito, and his breath hitches. “Now, take your punishment.”

“We did make a bet.”

I kiss him, slow and deep.

Swan holds Vito in place, making sure that he takes every moment of his sweet punishment.

Vito opens his mouth, begging formoreand not less.

We kiss, until my lungs are burning, and all I can taste is vanilla espresso.

Then I release Vito from his punishment with a final lick across his lips.

Vito’s eyes are dazed. “Have I told you yet what a bad,bad, Alpha I am? I definitely deserve a lot more punishment. Daily. You should set up a rota so that you don’t forget.”

Swan chuckles. “We won’t. But if you deserve more now…”

Swan slides his hand to the front of Vito’s trousers and undoes the button. Vito takes a shuddering breath.

“I deserve it.” Vito winks at me.

I struggle to keep a straight face.

I knew that sex could be relaxed and playful like this with Swan. But I never guessed that it could be the same with an Alpha.

With Alphas like Dimitri, they made claiming sound painful and about giving up control.

Alphas like the Dance Master warned us dancers against it, as a terrible loss that would be like dying.

It’s clear that with the wrong Alpha, that’s exactly what it can be.

I’m so fucking lucky to have these pack bonds.

I slide off Vito’s lap to give Swan more room, and Swan wrenches Vito’s trousers and underwear down his thighs, revealing his gorgeous, tattooed cock, which is already at half-mast.

At the sight of it, I become wet.

I lick my lips, pushing my dressing gown off my shoulders.

Vito’s gaze is fixed intently on me. “Shouldn’t the winner claim the trophy…?”

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