Page 101 of Fragile Heart

She shakes her head. “Mint.”

Shit. She needs more than just me. I look over her shoulder. Ethan’s eyes are wide, his hand clutching the threshold of the door so tight his knuckles are white.

“You need Ethan, too, sweetheart?” I ask in a low croon. She rocks her hips and then mewls, dropping her head back. A tear falls down her cheek. I force an edge to my voice, a bite of command. “Omega, tell me what you need.”

“Mint,” she says again. She palms my neck and pulls me closer, shuddering in a breath when my lips trace her collarbone. “Bite.”

Yeah, not a snowball’s chance in hell I bite her right now. I didn’t when she first dropped into her heat, and I sure as hell am not going to fuck that up now.

“Mint,” she says again, her voice turning petulant.

Ethan curses, and then he pads across the room, his footsteps nearly silent. He strips out of the sweatpants, leaving them in a pile at the foot of the bed, and then eases behind her.

She squeals in sudden excitement, palming his hip and forcing him closer. His eyes are locked on me, though.

“Have you…” His voice trails off.

When I shake my head, he curses again. Brielle whines.

“Fuck. If she hasn’t…” He blows out a breath. “This is not the time to try it, that’s for damn sure.”

“Maybe you just touching her will be enough,” I offer. I hold Brielle’s hips, forcing her completely still, and then drop onto my back so Ethan feels like he has more room.

Ethan kisses her shoulder, letting his teeth graze her skin. His fingers play with her nipples, pulling them until they’re tight buds and her skin is awash in goosebumps. She clenches around me, slick sliding down my dick, and I groan.

“Yeah, fuck, that might be enough,” I grunt.

Ethan nods and then bites her again. She shakes in our combined hold, falling forward, only managing to catch herself at the last moment with a hand splayed just to the side of my head. He follows her, easing his arm under hers until she grabs him instead of the bed sheet. Her head tilts back, her throat rippling with her swallow.

“Please,” she whispers. “Oh God, please. Please.”

I fuck up into her, falling into the feel of her body and the sound of her voice and the way her lavender scent wraps aroundme in a way that feels so fucking perfect. It blends with my cinnamon and Ethan’s mint, making the entire room smell like the perfect blend of English cottage and winter forest.

Ethan wraps his free arm around her hip and circles her clit with quick, soft touches. She shakes and cries out, her body going stiff and then limp. I stop holding back the orgasm sitting at the base of my spine. I push into her, forcing my knot as deep as I can, and it rips through me, robbing me of my vision. Her voice breaks on a second desperate scream, and Ethan mutters another ragged curse.

“Shit, I haven’t come like that since I was a goddamn teen,” he admits.

I can’t help but laugh, and it has Brielle whimpering.

Ethan guides her head back onto his shoulder, combing through some of her unruly hair. Her breathing slowly steadies as her body relaxes around my knot. After a minute, she blows out a breath and looks down at me, her cheeks flushed a gorgeous dark red.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, suddenly entirely lucid. The edge in her lavender fades away even as she perfumes anew. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

Ethan laughs behind her, letting his hand move away from her clit and onto her hip.

“It’s all right, princess.”

She flushes. He twists a strand of hair around his finger before letting it fall across her chest.

None of us say anything else until my knot finally releases.

“Do you want waffles?” Ethan asks her, his lips brushing her temple. Her cheeks flush, and she nods once. He trails his hand up her side. “Let Caleb get you cleaned up while I make some.”

Chapter Forty-Four

BRIELLE

My stomach tries to come up my throat when Caleb drops the plane toward a tiny landing strip. I can’t help but ball my hands into fists where I’ve tucked them under my legs to keep from accidentally messing with any of the instruments on the panels in front of me. I’ve flown in small planes before. Brett hated flying commercially, and so I didn’t put up a fuss when he’d spend the extra thousands of dollars to fly private whenever we went somewhere. But this tiny little Cessna is leagues tinier than even those jets.

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