Page 61 of Pack of Crooks
“Usually I ask an alpha to buy me a drink first,” I say with a nervous laugh.
He presses his hand into my spine, splaying his fingers right beneath the back of my neck, and uses the pressure of the hand on my hip and the one on my spine to bend me over.
My stomach flips, and I bite my cheek as I catch myself on my forearms. This is the strangest and hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.
His fingers tickle the backside of my knee, startling a little noise out of me, but I bite my tongue before I really embarrass myself. He cleans the blood first, strong hands moving from one thigh to the next, before moving to the worst of the injuries. I brace myself. Kill is surprisingly gentle, though.
Floating one hand up the front of my thigh, pinky edging beneath the bottom of my skort, he clasps my leg and presses the rag into the other side.
“Does that hurt?”
“No,” I rasp, hating how much these simple touches ignite fire in my belly and have me half-ready to ask him to reach a little higher. My scent is embarrassingly needy.
“Almost done,” he says, moving his hands to my other thigh and repeating the process, only this time, he tugs on my thigh, yanking me back slightly. An exhale rushes out of me as my ass arches into the air and my tits press into the counter. “Sorry.”
I drop my too hot forehead to the countertop. “It’s fine.”
The palm on the front of my thigh shifts, causing his fingers to slide even farther up and beneath my skort. My breath stutters in my chest. His touch makes me feel more alive than I have as of late. It’s like this every time I’m around any member of the pack.
Kill kneads my skin as he cleans me, and I revel in the electricity rolling over me. “This one is worse,” he explains.
I can’t say anything because I’m terrified my voice would come out a trembling, needy mess. He tosses the rag on the counter, but doesn’t stand. His hands smooth over my thighs.
“Do you need something, omega?”
“Yes,” I murmur as he drags his palms over my ass and undoes the zipper of my skort.
He tugs the material and my soaking wet thong down my thighs, humming in approval when he spots my slick soaked skin. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” One of his hands slipsbetween my legs to cup my cunt as he rises, slotting his front against my back. “All this slick just for your alpha?”
“Mmm,” I respond, rocking into his hold.
“Does my omega want to fuck my face?”
Do I ever. “Yesss,” I hiss as he plunges two fingers inside of me.
Chuckling at my response, he pumps them in and out of me a few times before pulling out and stepping away. I whirl around and pounce, launching myself at him. He catches me, hoists me up and seats me on his shoulders like I weigh nothing. His warm breath teases over my pussy and I grasp his hair as he presses me against the cabinets, tongue teasing through my slit.
“Killian,” I rasp.
He hums, circling my clit and dipping two fingers inside of me again. He’s so strong and steady, so fucking determined to drive me wild. That mouth works magic against my skin, lips sealing around my sensitive nerves and sucking, drawing out a throaty sound. Then he flattens his tongue and tastes me from center to clit. I rock my hips to meet his tongue, grinding against it as his purr rumbles down my spine.
With them having edged me, it doesn’t take long for tingles to trickle through me, and I come with a scream, hands holding his face to my pussy, but Killian doesn’t mind. He devours me and my cum like it’s his favorite dessert, carrying me through one and straight into another as his fingers press against my g-spot.
After I come down, panting, Kill carefully helps me dismount, sitting me on the counter, licking his glistening lips and staring at me like I’m a work of art. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tell him with a lazy grin.
His gaze drops to my low-cut top. “A word of warning? The next time you come to the hub, don’t wear this little outfit unless you want me to bend you over and knot you in front of my packso they can hear what a good omega you are when you scream my name.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” My voice is husky and far too breathy. His responding dark chuckle brushes over my face, a seductive kiss of air and sound.
“It’s a promise, pretty thief.” Kill lets me go. “I should go check on Ezra and Maddox. You should rest.” Pausing with his hand on the knob, he glances over his shoulder. “Lock your door.” He lets himself out, and I walk to the door in a haze of lust, flipping the lock and dropping my forehead against wood panels.
I’ve never wanted a knot so bad in my fucking life.
eighteen
EZRA
