Page 36 of Into the Fire: Before
“Fuck,” I exhaled, eyes still locked where Brooks and Taryn exchanged heated looks and touches.
Taryn combed her fingers through Brooks’ already tousled curls. “What d’you say, boys?”
Two simultaneous yeses broke from our lips, the bond humming with anticipation. I pointedly ignored any thought of Caine inside, of what he may be sensing through the bond.
I focused on Brooks. On the two women who’d entranced us both.
At Brea’s behest, I sat on Taryn’s other side, immediately turning my body in toward hers just as Brooks was on the other side. Brea perched on the chair beside our loveseat, glass still in hand.
“Rules,” she said in a more serious tone. She held up her index finger. “Number one, you—all three of you—take orders from me. You do as I say and only as I say. Disobedience will have consequences.”
Fucking hell.
“Two,” she continued, raising a second finger, “we keep safe words simple here.Noorstopfrom anyone, and all action ceases immediately, no question, no hesitation.
“And three”—One more finger went up—“if those safe words are not respected, I will toss you over the side of the building and I will smile about it.” I had no doubt in my mind that not only was she serious, but she was fierce enough, strong enough to do it too. “All understood?”
All three of us nodded, our chests already rising and falling noticeably.
Smirking, Brea relaxed back in her seat, looking every bit a queen upon her throne. “Now, everyone knows a good omega keeps her legs spread nice and wide,” Brea purred, her voice a sensual caress over each of us. “Lin, Brooks, each of you take a knee. Pull her open and hold her there. Do nothing else.”
Taryn gave the tiniest, sexiest whimper as I gripped her inner thigh right where it met her knee. She gave no resistance as I uncrossed her leg, pulling it in toward me. Brooks’ hand slid over her other knee, fingers flexing against her skin as he pulled that knee toward himself. The hem of her skirt bunched up, nearly to her waist. From my angle, I couldn’t see anything beyond. But—gods wept—I smelled her. Smelled the slick likely coating her luscious thighs just beyond my range of vision beneath the fabric of her skirt.
On the verge of skating my palm up the length of that thigh, of seeking out that thick nectar I knew gathered just out of sight, I was brought back to the present as Brea spoke again. “One hand is to remain on her knee at all times. Understood?”
“Yes,” Brooks and I answered simultaneously.
“Good,” Brea said. “Now, my omega needs warming up.” Her eyes home in on me first, then Brooks. “With your free hand, you may touch my omega…”
Oh, thank god.
“…on top of her clothing.”
Fucking hellfuck.
“Consider her skin hot lava because it is off limits.”
Brooks and I exchanged a look before glancing back at Brea. Awaiting permission. A pleased smirk crawled up her face. “You may begin.”
Brooks didn’t need telling twice, reaching immediately to trail his fingers down from the shoulder of her dress to the swell of her breast. They both moaned as he tightened his grip there, the omega’s eyes fluttering shut as he kneaded her breast even through two layers of clothing.
My own hand drifted, as if by its own volition, to her middle. I flattened my palm against her stomach, smoothing my hand side to side, increasing pressure. The fabric was thin enough that I felt the dip of her bellybutton under my fingers. The warmth of her skin that called out to my own.
Taryn squirmed between us, her knee pulling slightly against my hand. That’s what brought my attention down to her skirt, draped over her spread thighs, barely even covering that delectable smelling core. I hummed in her ear as I skated my hand down from her belly, over her clothed body until I could cup her pussy. She hissed, body arching, pressing up against my hand. With the skirt stretched taut, I couldn’t quite put the pressure I wanted in quite the place I wanted. But Taryn undulated beneath our hands, trying to simultaneously push into both our grips.
“Omega,” Brea said, pulling Taryn’s attention to her in an instant, “get a good grip with their hair in each hand.”
Taryn’s fingertips grazed up the back of my neck, fingernails dragging against my skin and pulling up goosebumps. She carded her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp so thoroughly my own eyelids fluttered with pleasure. She closed her fist then, and the slight sting of my hair being pulled made my cock twitch. I pressed my hand down harder against her vulva, wanting so desperately to reach beneath and feel it with my own damn fingertips.
But I was enjoying the game too much to cheat.
I looked to Brooks, whose curls rioted between Taryn’s fingers. His eyes were glazed, breathing labored.
“Omega,” Brea said. She bobbed the foot of her crossed leg slightly, looking utterly relaxed and in control. “Kiss Lin.”
I barely had time to register the command before the hand in my hair tightened in more and Taryn pulled my face in toward hers. Before her full, wet, warm lips attacked mine.
I’d always heard omegas were, by their nature, more demure beings than the rest. Not timid, not…not meek. But that their biology, which craved pleasing others—pleasing alphas—imbued omegas with a certain innate docility.
