Page 56 of Omega on Fire

The crude word spilling from his usually clevermouth feels like victory. I’ve unmade him as much as he’s unmade me.

I cup his jaw and pull him closer. “Show me.”

He dives in like a man starving, tongue sweeping between my folds, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, finding every nerve ending, every weakness. His moans vibrate against me as I grind down on his tongue, chasing the pleasure he gives my clit generously. His hands grip my thighs, not to control but to savor.

My head falls back as sensation builds, a crescendo of heat and pressure. Teagan’s hand finds my throat again, there for balance, not restraint, and it only heightens everything. His thumb strokes the pulse point at the base of my throat, monitoring my pleasure like it’s his to safeguard.

“Good,” he breathes. “Let him taste what’s his.”

The possessive edge in his voice should rankle me. Should trigger all my defenses about autonomy and independence. But it doesn’t. Because there’s no force behind it, no coercion. Just fierce, protective desire.

I come with a cry, hips trembling, hands tangled in Josiah’s hair as he drinks every last drop. Colors burst behind my eyes, pressure building and breaking in waves I can’t control. My body jerks, oversensitive,but Josiah gentles, slowing, easing me through the aftershocks.

When I finally tug him up, his lips are swollen, face flushed with pride and lust. His expression is a beautiful contradiction, smug yet reverent, hungry yet sated. I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue, and he groans into my mouth, pressing closer.

Teagan steps in front of me now, eyes dark, cock already hard and leaking through his loosened pants. “Your turn,” I whisper, already reaching.

He hisses as I pull the zipper of his jeans down and wrap my hand around him, pulling him free. Thick. Heavy. I lick my lips, then take him into my mouth inch by inch. The taste of him is sharp and masculine, salt and musk.

He groans. “Open wide for me, Omega.”

I do. I take him deep, my tongue swirling, sucking, working him the way I know he likes. My jaw aches, but the discomfort is secondary to his pleasure.

Josiah trails kisses along my spine, hands warm against my hips. His own erection presses against my back, hot and insistent.

Teagan grabs a fistful of my hair to steady himself. “Just like that,” he rasps. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

His praise hits me like a drug. I’ve been calledmany things, headstrong, difficult, radical. But never perfect. Never like I’m enough exactly as I am.

I hum around him, and he jerks, pulling free with a grunt. “Enough. Get on him.”

I turn, climbing into Josiah’s lap, his cock already rising again beneath me. I lower myself slowly, gasping at the stretch, the way he fills me. Different from Teagan, but no less intense.

“Charlotte,” he breathes, hands bracing my waist.

The way he says my name feels like a thousand butterflies taking flight within me. I dip my head and capture his lips with mine, grinding against him as we discover our perfect cadence together.

Teagan moves behind me again, one hand on my back, guiding. “Good girl. Ride him.”

I move. Rocking. Grinding. My pace finds his rhythm, and Teagan’s fingers find my clit. The pleasure spikes hard, blinding. Josiah’s hands grip my hips, helping me rise and fall, his breath uneven against my neck.

“You feel her?” Teagan asks Josiah. “Feel how wet she is? How ready?”

Josiah groans, thrusting up into me. “She’s unreal.”

I ride him faster. Harder. Teagan’s fingers tease me closer and closer to another peak.

“I want to feel you,” I gasp, looking back at Teagan. “Please.”

His eyes flare. “You want both of us?”

I nod, frantic now. “Yes. Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Slicks himself with my juices with a practiced hand and lines up behind me. He waits, hand on my hip. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” I breathe. “I want you. Now.”

He pushes in beside Josiah slowly, the burn exquisite as my pussy accommodates them both, the stretch insane. I cry out, body trembling, caught between them.

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