Page 63 of The Omega Trials: Part One

“You heard her, brother. Finger her until she’s coming on your tongue.” He slides two thick fingers into her, and as she moans in bliss, but it’s not him she looks at.

It’sme.

She crashes over her peak and squeezes his head between her thighs, crying out and arching her back.

“That’s it, work her through it.” My throat is dry, my voice hoarse, my gaze unable to look away from every beautiful inch of her in rapture. The corded tendons of her neck as her head bows back. The flush that creeps across her chest and up to her cheeks. The way her jaw goes slack and her eyes roll to the ceiling.

I could blow in my goddamn pants just watching her come.

She’s not just beautiful; she’s a fucking masterpiece.

1. Play “Say Your Prayers” by Blithe and continue in next chapter

Permission

Sinclair

My head hits the mattress as I fall back, limp and tingling.1 My pulse races as I try to catch my breath. I sigh, satiated but still desperate for more.

I now get why Lust Dust is so addictive. Bond lust is a constant euphoria. I feel like I’m floating, grounded only by my alpha’s touch. Everything is warm and light and soft. Colors are more vibrant. Touch is more electrifying. Pleasure is utterly dazzling.

As Bishop stands, I watch him rise at the foot of the bed. Ecker stands next to him, shoulder to shoulder. His eyes flick down at Bishop’s hand. “Let me get a taste.”

Bishop frowns, confused for a moment, then his brows lift knowingly. I stare, mesmerized, as Bishop holds out the twofingers that fucked me and Ecker wraps his lips around them. He groans headily, his heavy eyes sliding my way. I prop myself on my elbows for a better view.

There’s nothing sexual between the two of them, yet I’ve never seen anything more erotic than the way Ecker sucks Bishop’s fingers clean. It makes every butterfly in my stomach take flight, and heat burns my cheeks.

When he’s done, he looks at me with burning sincerity. “Now, that’s a pussy men would go to fucking war for.”

My mouth falls open, and he smirks out of the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, I feel shy and look away, turning my gaze instead to Bishop. Who pulls his tie through his collar then slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, one by one. Each button makes my stomach drop.

His body is a work of art. A beautiful, golden brown with honed muscles and a face that would make angels weep. Despite the chiseled and sharp angles of his features, there’s something soprettyabout him. The small piercing in his septum is the only thing edgy about his appearance.

Ecker, on the other hand, looks every part the fallen angel. His blond hair and sun-kissed skin could make him look like a carefree surfer, but there’s a deviousness in his stare, a wickedness in his smirk that turns charming into chilling. I’m obsessed with the dichotomy of him. A face for church with a body for sin.

With his shirt now on the floor, Bishop steps confidently out of his pants and lowers his briefs. He undresses with the air of a fighter stepping into the ring. My mouth goes dry as he fists his hard cock, his hand moving up and down the impressive length in languid strokes.

Now that we’re bonded, his knot has become more prominent at the base of his cock, even when not inflated. My pussy spasms at the memory of it fitting inside me, my body struggling toaccommodate it and the deep, throbbing pleasure when it locks into place.

“How do you want me to fuck her?” he asks gruffly, and my heart races from being able to feel his burning desire through the bond. Like I can feel in my body every dirty thing he wants to do to me.

Which makes the fact that Ecker is the one in control even more tantalizing. Being able to feel all the ways Bishop wants to wreck me, but not knowing which one will be my ruin until Ecker chooses it.

“Look how desperate she is for her alpha’s cock,” Ecker says, his lidded, glowing eyes dropping to my chest, and I realize I’m fondling my own breasts over my dress. “Would you like to take that off, Omega?” I nod eagerly. “Go on then.” The banality of his tone is taunting, like he’s daring me to make him lose his composure.

I sit up to pull the silky dress over my head. Ecker holds his hand out for it. I place part of the dress in his palm but don’t let go. Our fists wrap around the fabric like we’re holding the same piece of rope. Our grips are so close that I can feel the heat from his hand. We both eye the minuscule gap like it’s a cavernous canyon.

It’s hard to believe that those same hands that held me down, hurt me,brokeme are now what I crave.

“Thank you.” He tugs on the dress, and I let go as if broken out of a trance.

He tosses it over the back of a chair then walks to the side of the bed. He pats the edge of the mattress. “Get on your knees and put your head here, then reach through your legs and grab your ankles.”

As I crawl into position, I hear Bishop growl hungrily and my skin heats at the attention. My ass lifts into the air, and I feel soincredibly vulnerable, spread open yet so damn powerful. Andwanted.

God, I feel so fucking wanted, and damn does it feel good.

My cheek is flat on the comforter, and Ecker, still standing next to the bed, crouches down to meet me eye to eye. My heart stutters when he reaches for my face, but then he moves his hand lightly over my hair without pain. It must have to be skin contact for the reaction to occur. His eyes light up with the realization and he smiles softly yet mischievously.

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