Page 26 of Reckless Consequences

I establish a rhythm with Finn’s guidance, his hands on my hips helping me find the angle that makes Theo gasp beneath me. Jinx continues supporting Theo from behind, his lips and teeth leaving marks along the Omega’s neck and shoulders that parallel the ones on my own skin.

Ryker circles us, his gaze burning with intensity, assessing and adjusting our positions with subtle touches. His hand finds the nape of my neck, squeezing lightly in approval that sends shivers down my spine.

“Faster,” Theo urges, hips rising to meet each of my movements. “Need more. Harder.”

I comply, increasing my pace as Finn’s hands tighten on my hips, guiding me to take Theo deeper, exactly as he needs. The position strains my thighs, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the pleasure building within me.

“Look at you,” Finn murmurs against my ear, his voice a velvet rumble. “Taking him so perfectly. Your body knows exactly what he needs.”

The praise sends another rush of heat through me, my inner walls clenching around Theo in response. The Omega cries out, his body responding to the added pressure with a jerk of his hips that hits something deep inside me.

“There,” I gasp, stars exploding behind my eyelids. “Right there.”

“Found it,” Finn observes with satisfaction, adjusting my position slightly to maintain the angle. “Stay right there.”

I follow his guidance, maintaining the angle that sends waves of pleasure through me with each movement.

Theo’s second orgasm builds visibly—his breathing turning ragged, his cock pulsing inside me. When he finally breaks, it’s with a cry that seems torn from his soul, his release flooding me with warmth.

The sensation triggers my own climax, pleasure exploding outward from my core in waves. Through the haze, I’m aware of Finn holding me steady, preventing me from collapsing as my body surrenders to the intensity.

As I recover, still seated on Theo with aftershocks rippling through both of us, I become aware of Finn’s arousal pressing against my lower back. Without thinking, I reach behind me, finding him hard and ready.

“Your turn,” I murmur, twisting to meet his gaze over my shoulder.

His eyes darken with hunger, but concern still edges his features. “I should let you rest?—”

“No,” I cut him off, unwilling to let him sacrifice his own needs. “I want you. Now.”

The declaration seems to break something in him. With careful movements, he helps me lift off Theo, the Omega making a small sound of loss as we separate. Jinx immediately moves to comfort him, taking my place as Finn guides me to hands and knees beside them.

“This position will be easiest on you,” Finn explains, positioning himself behind me. His hands map the curve of my spine, the flare of my hips. “Tell me if anything hurts.”

The concern makes my heart squeeze with tenderness. Even now, even with obvious need, he thinks of my comfort first. “I’m fine,” I assure him, arching my back in invitation. “More than fine. I need you, Finn.”

He enters me with careful precision, each inch making me gasp and push back against him, eager for more. Unlike Theo’s desperate heat, Finn’s movements carry consistency—each thrust measured, each angle deliberate, each touch placed with purpose.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmurs, fingers finding the exact spot where pressure makes me cry out. “So perfect for this.”

His observation somehow becomes the filthiest dirty talk, triggering another rush of wetness that eases his increasingly insistent thrusts. I lose myself in the rhythm he creates, in the perfect pressure of each movement.

Beside us, Theo watches with heat-glazed eyes, already hardening again despite two releases. Jinx strokes him lazily, both of them clearly enjoying the display Finn and I create together.

“Beautiful together,” Jinx comments, appreciation in his voice.

The observation sends another wave of heat through me, pride and arousal tangling as I clench around Finn, earning a rare groan from him. Finn—our always controlled scientist—actually losing composure is intoxicating.

“Keep doing that,” he instructs, voice strained now as his pace increases. “The pressure feels amazing.”

I comply, deliberately tightening around him with each thrust, rewarded by the way his breathing hitches, the slight stutter in his otherwise perfect rhythm. His movements falter suddenly, a tremor running through his arms as his still-recovering body reaches its limits. I start to pull back, concerned, but his hands tighten on my hips.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, determination overriding weakness. “Just... slower.”

I adjust, finding a gentler pace that allows him to participate without taxing his healing system. His chest rises and falls with more effort now, sweat gathering at his temples.

“Are you sure?” I ask, slowing further, worry threading through desire.

“Yes,” he breathes, eyes fierce with need despite the exhaustion evident in them. “Want this. Need this. Need you.”

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