Page 41 of Hunting Their Omega

“Wynn,” I pleaded, barely recognizing my voice.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost home,” he said thickly.

The friction of his body against mine was almost too much, and I shamelessly rolled my hips against his deliciously hard length.

His growl was a warning and a promise as he held me steady, restricting my movements.

“I only have so much self-control right now,” he said, his voice strained.

Wynn picked up speed until he was practically running with me in his arms, but his body rubbed against me with every step, teasing my aching core.

My mind was muddled. Vaguely, I felt my claws unsheathe as I dragged my tongue up the column of his neck.

He cursed again. His tone should’ve inspired fear, but I felt slick slip down my thighs.

The dominance in his voice made my spine tingle and my toes curl.

“Wynn, I can’t take it anymore . . . please,” I begged.

The front door crashed open, and the tempting scent of my mates surrounded me. Wynn took the steps two at a time, only slowing when we arrived in our bedroom.

“Fuck. Isolde, baby, you’re going to be okay,” Alaric said. He slid his arms around me and placed me on something thick and soft.

Something that smelled like them.

I blinked, clearing the haze from my vision as I made sense of my surroundings.

The bed had been piled high with blankets, shirts, and sweatpants—every soft material that smelled like them.

A nest, I realized.

My wolf purred, deep satisfaction burrowing into my lust-addled brain.

They made me a nest.

My hands moved on their own, instinct demanding everything be perfect for what came next. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I shivered with fear. I understood that I would likely be pregnant once my heat was over.

But the demand to feed my lust rang in my ears. My body was hot, and my skin was sensitive. The more I shifted and rolled and arranged, the heavier my breasts felt, and the harder my core pulsed between my legs.

Shame was a foreign concept. Nothing mattered as I sat back, satisfied with my nest.

I met the hungry, dark gazes of my mates. They were naked and ready, cocks straining against their abdomens. I whimpered, desperate for more than just a view of the masculine perfection in front of me.

Their eyes tracked my movements as they slowly spread out around me, cornering me as if I might escape. Wynn and Alaric flanked my sides as Bishop took the center. Flashes of golden gazes and sharp teeth drove my desire higher as their wolves played just below the surface of their skin.

My wolf encouraged them, and slick spilled down my legs.

Bishop’s nostrils flared as my hands moved over my body, peeling off layers of clothing and revealing every inch of my flesh.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” Bishop said, crossing the room and pulling me toward him.

The second his large hands brushed my skin, I moaned, leaning into his touch. He cupped my breasts and waved Alaric and Wynn closer.

“Look at how sensitive she is,” he murmured, running a clawed finger over my hard nipple. My teeth sank into my lip. “What do you want first, little mate?”

Wynn palmed his throbbing cock as Bishop’s hand splayed over my lower abdomen. Pleasure cut through the heat, and his calloused hands promised more. My thighs trembled with anticipation.

“Do you want me to offer you to them?” Bishop murmured in my ear, his fingers brushing the hood of my clit while the other hand skillfully kneaded my breast. He pinched my nipple hard, and I cried out, the mix of pleasure and pain sending a jolt down my spine.

---