Page 43 of Dance Omega Dance

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence alone made me shiver. In one smooth motion, Zach left my mouth, while Anders lay on his back and pulled me on top of him, thrusting me on top of his hot and hungry cock, his thrust punishing and perfect, stealing the air from my lungs and replacing it with fire. A strangled cry escaped my lips. Zach chuckled, then turned my head and thrust his cock deep into my mouth again, making me gag. I was overwhelmed and delirious, caught in the space between pain and pleasure.

Anders pulled me forward, and Zach sat back on his heels keeping his cock in my mouth, until my breasts were rubbing against him, nipples hard and eager at the motion. Then he wrapped his muscular hands around my throat, claiming me. His breath ghosted over my ear, heavy with restraint.

“Keep going,” he murmured, his voice a luscious command, while watching me as I continued to fuck Zach’s cock in my mouth. “Take him. Takeallof us.”

A sudden wetness and then pressure bloomed over my buttocks, the hot, rigid head of Blake’s cock joining the relentless stretch of Anders buried deep inside me. My breath hitched; a raw sound torn from my throat as the dire need to please them consumed me. My world narrowed to right now. To the taste, touch, and scent of these alphas who claimed me as theirs.

Blake's presence dominated, strong and sure as he held my hips, fingers digging in hard. The world narrowed to them. All three of them consuming me as Blake and Anders thrust deeper, harder, in synchronized movements, their cocks only separated by a layer of tissue.

Anders still had my throat held just above him. My face turned to the side, being fucked for everything I had. Zach's eyes were wide, his face tense, an inescapable rut threatening to take over. Anders suckled my neck. He grazed the skin, biting softly, but never breaking it. I needed him there, his mark owning me, showing everyone I was taken. But I knew, even in this moment, where he had changed so much, he would still never take me without my say-so.

The world narrowed to the feel of Blake against my back, the press of his body insistent and grounding. "Mine," he growled, the possessiveness in his voice lighting a spark that sent a shock through me.

He thrust his hips, slapping against my ass as he fucked me with long, deep strokes. I moaned with every thrust, my body quivering with intensity as he claimed me.

At the same time, Anders kept pace, thrusting harder and harder into me as I drove my hips onto his lap. I reached for him, and he caught my hand, bringing it to his mouth and sucking them. I was undone, unraveled and put back together, a thousand times whole and then shattered again, every part of me claimed and reclaimed, taken and known.

My omega scent spiked, and I could feel them catch it, feel the way it made them shudder and shake. It drove them into madness, hands gripping tighter, hips thrashing harder. They craved me now as much as I craved them. Their instincts set wild and free as they filled the air with a promise that couldn't be denied.

Anders's hand closed around my breast, squeezing it, Blake's fingers tangled in my hair, Zach's breath panting, his eyes crazed and needy.

It was raw. It was real, and when it broke over us, I was no longer lost but found.

AFTERWARD, WE LAY TANGLEDtogether, a knot of limbs and breathless sighs as the intensity of the moment gave way to a softer closeness. The air was thick with satisfaction and unspoken promises, our bodies cooling and settling as we caught our breath. My head rested on Blake's chest, the steady rhythm of his heart a comforting lullaby. Anders' fingers stroked through my hair, and Zach traced slow, lazy patterns on my back. They never rushed me, never pushed.. "I never thought I could feel this safe," I admitted, my voice a soft intrusion in the warm quiet.

Blake kissed my forehead, promising. "We'll never push you sweetheart."

They spoke of what drew them to me, of what we could become together. We were closer than I'd ever imagined, closer than I'd ever let myself dream, and the last thought in my mind as I drifted to sleep was how it felt like home.

Chapter Nineteen

Sunlight streamed into the room the next morning as Zach declared it was time to begin my self-defense training. The thought of it calmed my racing heart and eased my anxiety. I loved him for taking care of me, protecting me.

The gym hit me like a spotlight. Harsh fluorescents gleamed off slick mats and swinging bags that whispered of bruises and broken pride. The air tasted like sweat, like alpha, waiting to swallow me whole.

I was a rookie in any form of defense. My natural go to was to run and hide. But not this time. Not with my pack protecting me.

I hovered in the entrance, twisting the strap of my bag, contemplating the wisdom of turning and fleeing. The air inside was charged with adrenaline, buzzing with the distant thump of fists on leather and the earthy tang of sweat. Before I could bolt, a familiar cedarwood scent stopped me, followed by Zach’s teasing grin. “Ready for some fun?” I doubted this was his idea of fun, but there I was, ready to square off with an Alpha in a gym built for warriors, not wayward omegas pretending they could handle themselves.

Air filled my lungs. Too sharp. Too cold. I exhaled, letting it out in a slow, steady stream, hoping it would take the shaking with it. My palms were already damp, fingers curling and uncurling. Each breath echoed louder than it should’ve in my ears.

A distantthud-thud-thudcut through the stillness, rhythmic and punishing. Someone was working the heavy bag hard, eachstrike a promise of what this place demanded. I could almost feel it already... gloved fists slamming into my ribs, the sting of failure blossoming under my skin.

My skin prickled, every inch of me too visible, too exposed. I swore I'd never feel this way again. But there it was, my vulnerability strangling around my spine like a snake.

Zach crossed the gym, his steps casual, as if this were just another day, another omega to coax into compliance. “You’re not going to ditch me, are you?” he said, his smile wide enough to dismantle my defenses.

“Thinking about it,” I admitted, shifting the weight of my bag on my shoulder. His workout clothes clung in all the right places, and his hair was a soft, playful mess. I tried to match his lightheartedness, but my voice betrayed my tension.

“Too late now. I’ve got you right where I want you.” He gestured to the sea of mats. “Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

A reluctant grin tugged at my lips, and I followed him deeper into the gym, feeling more like I was walking into a trap than a training session. The air felt different here, electric, pulsing, alive with a sense of challenge and promise. And I couldn’t tell if the nervous flutter in my chest was terror or anticipation.

He led me to a section away from the others, a quieter corner that felt more intimate. “I promise it’s not as scary as it looks,” he said, picking up on my hesitance. “Self-defense is about being smart, not just strong.”

“Then I’m already at a disadvantage,” I said, more to myself than him.

“Not if you learn the right tricks. Especially if you’re an Omega.” There was a seriousness behind his usual playfulness, a sincerity that caught me off guard.

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