Page 226 of Juliet & Her Romeos

As Vito begins to finger him open, Ambrose’s gaze settles on Swan.

“New Romeo tradition,bothOmegas should be stripped.” Ambrose casually crosses his ankles.

Swan grins, wickedly. “Finally a rule that I won’t rebel against.”

He marches to me, and I laugh, as he drags the dress over my head, before ripping my lacy panties off with a snarl like they’re personally offending him.

I slip off my bra myself, however, before Swan can tear that apart as well.

Swan’s panting, as he nips and sucks down my throat.

“Kiss each other,” Ambrose says like he’s not affected at all by either my nakedness or the way that Vito is now teasing Benedict by slowly thrusting the fox tail dildo in and out of his ass.

On the other hand, I’m wet. My core is throbbing. And I need to be fucking touched.

Hell, this is just like my fantasy, where I’d imagine Ambrose giving commands, while getting off on watching.

Despite what Ambrose is pretending, he is affected.

I can tell by the way his cock is tenting his pants.

Swan and I obey Ambrose.

We don’t kiss like we did when we were alone together in the academy.

Back then, we never knew if it would be the last time. Now, we can luxuriate in our kisses, revel in them.

Sensually, we hold each other tight, humping against each other. We’re high on the freedom to kiss in the open without fear.

“Now, kneel in front of our little Omega and worship her sweet pussy. But don’t make her come. That’s the birthday Omega’s present.” Ambrose is looking like he’s fighting hard not to leap forward and claim me himself.

When Benedict hears this, he moans.

He glances over his shoulder at me.

He’s glistening with sweat. He claws at the top of the piano. His thighs shake, but he’s focused on holding himself back from coming because he knows that he’s going to be coming inside me.

I’m this pack’s prize.

I hiss out a sharp breath.

How the hell amInot going to come now?

I’m already close to the edge.

Swan drops to his knees in front of me.

I slide my fingers into his thick, tumble of hair. “Tongue me.”

Swan looks up at me challengingly through his thick eyelashes. “Make me.”

My eyes spark.

So, this is how he wants to play it.

I tighten my hold on Swan’s hair just harshly enough for him to hiss with pain.

He looks delighted, before he can hide it.

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