Page 50 of Pack of Crooks
“Because we’re edging her,” Ezra says, smirking when my head swings in his direction.
“You’re whating me?”
He drops to his knees beside me.
Fucking finally.
I straighten, grabbing him and pulling him toward me, but he diverts and his mouth drops to my throat, nails gliding up and down my back, and he teases my skin with his lips, skimming them over my pulse point, tongue flicking over it. A soft sound trembles out of me.
He pulls back, hands slipping away.
“Don’t go,” I whine.
He sits on the bench again. “That, my pretty omega, is edging.”
“I hate it.”
“Me too,” Kill confesses, but he puts on his game face when Ezra looks at him. “Trust us. It’ll feel good once it ends.”
“It feels like death right now.” I start to stand but Maddox catches my wrist.
“Crawl back to get your next outfit.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Is that an order?”
“Do you want it to be?” he counters.
“Yes,” I admit, shamelessly ready to degrade myself some more. It doesn’t feel bad though. If anything, it feels powerful to have all eyes on me. To know they want me on my knees begging for them.
“Crawl,” he commands, the power of his bark hitting me like a Mack truck.
My palms slap against the tile, and I make my way back to the rack of clothes, gazing at them over my shoulder, insides melting at how intently they watch me. Like I’m everything and the rest of the world is nothing.
“Such a good omega,” he praises, fist clenching and unclenching. He and Kill aren’t as in control of themselves as Ezra, but betas are always a little more levelheaded.
I sit on my heels, arch my back as I reach for another dress, and push my tits out, giving them a full side view of my body. If they want to edge me, I can edge them too. With that in mind, I hook my thumbs in the arms of the dress, rise to my feet, and pull the material up, letting my fingers glide over every inch of my skin, cupping my breasts and smirking when they all groan.
“Turnabout is fair play,” I remind them, smoothing the material over my ass as I spin, biting my finger and casting my gaze back at them.
Ezra grins. “Tease.”
“Same to you.”
His smile only widens. “What else you got, baby?”
Well, if that’s the game we’re playing, I take off the dress and unhook my bra, tossing it aside and cupping my tits, kneading them as I walk toward them. “I was thinking about what you said,” I murmur, turning and sitting in Ezra’s lap, hands covering my tits and head falling onto his shoulder. “And if you get to edge me,” I murmur, grinding in his lap, pinching my nipples, “then I get to edge you.”
His hands find my thighs, but I tsk and brush them away.
“No touching,” I tell him, rolling my body on him for a few more seconds before I move on to Kill.
He immediately tries to take control, but I grab his wrists and place them above his head, facing him as I climb into his lap, just the thin material of my underwear and his pants separating our centers. Kill’s purr rumbles in his chest.
I cup his chin. “Look at you, alpha,” I whisper, bumping my nose over his. “I bet that fat knot is begging for my pussy.”
“Hazel,” he warns, voice deep and gruff.
“You started this.” I rock over his length, gasping as the pressure on my clit lights up my insides. I make like I’m going to kiss him, delighting in the way his mouth searches for mine, and then pull back and slide off his lap.
