“I’m still standing, which means you better start praying, Omega.” Titus’s threat rolls off his tongue like the smooth leather of a belt.
She picks up one of the dangling cuffs and fits it around her wrist before closing it. She holds her fist up to show it off. “Do your worst.”
His forehead frets in a scowl as he closes the distance between them. Offended, he snarls in her face. “You think we can’t break you?”
She inches her head back but stands her ground. And again, her stubbornness has me all twisted up.
Part of me admires her strength, but another,much biggerpart wants to force her into submission.
I move behind her. She shivers when I brush her hair to the side, exposing her neck. “You’re an omega. You were made to be broken.” My fingers trail over her scar. “And we were made to break.”
I watch as goose bumps run down her arms and smile. Just like her pussy will always give her away her lust, her body gives away her fear and it’sso.Fucking. Sweet.
It refuels my dwindling rut and makes my chest expand with fire. “It’s up to you how much it will hurt.” I emphasize my words by kicking the back of her knees so they buckle.
“Give me that hand.” Titus flicks his chin at her cuffed wrist. She seems hesitant as she places it in his open palm. He unshackles her then orders, “Dress. Off.”
She sits up off her heels but remains kneeling to pull the slip over her head. Once she’s sitting there in nothing but thin white panties, he reinstates the shackle.
A rough, gravelly sound rolls in my chest as my eyes take in her bare back and imagine marring the perfect canvas with my nails, teeth, maybe carving my name.
Titus bends down to meet her eye to eye and roughly squishes her cheeks with one hand. “Try to bite either of us and I’ll make your back look worse than mine.”
When she doesn’t come back with an immediate retort, I move next to him so I can see her. Sure enough, all the venom that I’d expected in her words is written on her face. The vitriol behind the flecks of gold beginning to color her eyes stirs my bloodlust.
The alpha urge to dominate, conquer.
It makes it easy to take my hard cock out of my waistband. I tilt her chin toward me when Titus lets go of her cheeks. My hand wraps around my shaft while I meet her eyes. I stroke my cock slowly and though our gazes are locked, I know she can still see it in her periphery. She bites her lip and the amount of gold in her eyes doubles.
A heady combination of musk mixed with her regular scent has my hips punching forward with a groan.
Knowing I’m smelling her arousal, I ask mockingly, “You can’t help it, can you? Like when you came all over Bishop’s cock watching us fuck our fists.”
Just like that night in her bathroom, Titus strokes himself next to me.
“You wanna come like that again?” I flick my chin in a dare. “Go ahead, touch yourself.”
Her lip tugs in a sneer and she glares, repeating Titus’s earlier words. “I’d rather slit my own throat.”
“Ah, but you didn’t hear the rest of my terms.” Letting go of my cock, I fist the back of her head and yank it back until her jaw falls open, angling her face toward Titus.
Titus releases a rumbling groan and pitches forward to push the head of his cock against her parted lips. The sight of his thick red tip nudging against her sweet pink lips is almost too much to handle.
My rut surges like a wave and I fight to get out my terms. “This is your chance to show us you know you’re place. You can touch yourself, but only when you’re giving us what we need.”
“Do what you want to me, but you can’t make me enjoy it.”
“You sure about that?” I chuckle darkly at the challenge. “Feed her your cock, Ti.”
I release the grip in her hair. Titus’s forearm flexes as he strokes his length while his other hand taps her cheek for her to reopen her mouth.
“Remember what I said about biting,” he says low and rough, then groans as he slides between her lips. “Fuuck. . .”
His hips find a slow, rocking rhythm, and I crouch down next to her. Facing her side, I brush her hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. She eyes me wearily.
I nudge my nose against her jaw and inhale audibly. “You smell so fucking good being used . . . I think it’s your fear.” I muse, dragging my nose up her cheek, feeling Titus thrust in and out.
“He’s holding back, you know.” I hum in her ear. “But I think you like it rough, don’t you?” My hand cups her breast, tugs on her nipple, and she moans sharply. I chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”