Page 11 of The Omega Trials: Part Three

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

1. “want me” by Ex Habit

Chapter 7

Touch

Sinclair

Iland on the mattress with a soft bounce, but it still knocks the wind out of me. Or maybe that’s just Titus.

I sit back on my hands as he towers over me, standing at the foot of the bed. His gaze blatantly roves my body, slowly, methodically. Like he’s finally allowing himself to look without pretending he isn’t.

I listen to Bishop and Ecker join us in my room, but I can’t take my eyes off the alpha in front of me.1 I feel as much like hunted prey as I do a waiting predator.

Titus rolls his head to the side, surveying me up and down. “Where do I even begin with you?”Everywhere.

Please. Please touch me. Everywhere.

The prospect seems too overwhelming, too all-consuming. So, instead, I say, “Let me start with you.”

I sit up, my legs dangling off the bed. I hook his waistband with my thumbs and pull him between my legs. Looking up at him, I slip my palms under his shirt. As I drag them up his torso, he pulls his shirt over his head. I let my hands explore in the same way his eyes did: decadently.

Every ridge of muscle, every rough scar. My fingertips learn what I already know. That his body is undoubtedly a weapon, a wielder of both pleasure and pain.

And for the first time, I get to choose which.

“Slap me.”

Confusion flashes on Titus’s face, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Bishop try to stand from the settee, but Ecker stops him.

My heart races in excitement, and maybe a little fright. He steps back as I slide off the bed to my knees. “Now, slap me.”

I look up at him through my lashes. His throat bobs on a thick swallow, then my cheek is stinging. But it’s not enough. It doesn’t sate this clawing need brewing in my chest.

“Harder,” I order. His nostrils flare, but he does it.

This time, my head whips to the side. A thrill races down my spine and heat blooms in my core as I slowly turn back to his face with a dry laugh. “Oh, c’mon, Iknowyou can do better than that.”

Understanding comes over his expression, and I’m certain he’s recalling the same memory I am right now. When he volunteered to punish me for speaking out of turn. He struck me so hard, I fell to the cold marble floor of the Great Hall.

But everything about this scene is different. Rather than eyes full of cold resentment, golden specks form a dazzling ringaround his irises. And the men that refused to offer me a hand are now standing by, waiting, forever my protectors.

So, this time when I lift my chin, waiting for his strike, I’m not just enduring. I’m submitting—willingly.

And when it comes, the burn is so good. The spike of pain and pleasure and power makes me dizzy. My thighs slicken, my body slipping into heat.

Light fingers tilt my face up. “I feel like I should be the one on my knees.”

“That’s not what I need right now,” I answer, tugging his sweats down his hips and thighs.

His cock is so thick and hard, my pussy aches to be filled with it again. But I take my time, savoring this longing. I wrap one hand around the base of his shaft and lick the pearly pre-cum leaking from his tip.

“G-god . . . ,”he sputters as if electrocuted, his hands balling into fists at his sides and his jaw clenching tight. “I thought every detail of how your sweet mouth felt wrapped around my cock was seared into my mind. I’ve replayed it a thousand times, butthis . . .”He shakes his head. “No memory can compare to this.”

A pulse of lust hits me, but it’s not mine. I glance at my two mates across the room and both of them have glowing eyes.

“You always look so good on your knees, baby girl,” Ecker says adoringly.

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