Page 47 of Unbonded
“It’s glorious,” I tell her, rotating my hips so that his thick shaft drags against my prostate. He might not have a knot, but Lachlan has plenty to satisfy me, and I have to clutch my dick to stop my eruption. “So close,” I pant, working his cock harder as Kate swirls her own hips. “Are you gonna come with me, sweetheart?”
“I’m so close!” she keens, clawing my slick arms as she starts to shake. “I’m coming, Dash!”
I drag her into another ravaging kiss, then whisper, “Let go, beautiful girl.”
She bucks against me, ripples of release I can almost see buzzing across her skin. I want toconsumeher in every way, but before I can lick the cries from her lips, she drops to her belly and sucks my cock into her mouth. Fuck. Me. Sparks of ecstasy shoots straight to my balls, and I catch Lachlan’s gaze, a slick-glazed, fucked-out mirror of my own. Is it any wonder we explode at the same time, a chain reaction that seems to loop back and forth as we shudder through our climaxes? I can barely feel my own body as we collapse, a heaving, purring pile of panting chests and boneless limbs.
I wait until the aftershocks subside, then push up on an elbow, staring down into their flushed faces. Bossy direction aside, this was their first time together, and I want to make sure it was everything they wanted. “Are you both okay?”
“Never better,” Lachlan replies, pulling Kate in for a slow, drugging kiss.
The ecstatic look on her face speaks volumes, and I stretch out beside them with a grin. “Great, then how about we polish off the picnic?” When Kate gives me a curious glance, I tweak her plump bottom lip. “Food is fuel, and I don’t plan on slacking off any time soon.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - KATE
The next few days fly past in a blur of rehearsals, design projects, movie nights, and mind-melting sex. It’s just my luck to have hooked up with two athletes in their prime, who also happen to be overachievers. I’m not sure what record they’re competing for, but I’m guessing it’s the number of orgasms they can wring out of me, on as many surfaces as possible, in the widest variety of rooms. A kind of kinky Cluedo, where they’re going to murder me with pleasure, probably in the kitchen, (since that seems to be their room where their appetites are always raring to go), and most definitely while wielding their very talented tongues.
The climax, unsurprisingly, happens over the dining table. Lachlan has revealed a hidden talent for cooking that he inherited from his French omega mother, and his Chicago-born Italian father. He also explains that his nickname – Cookie – is actually the way his Italian name ofCucchiis pronounced. His great-grandfather simplified the spelling when he arrived in America, but Lachlan assures me he comes from a long line of very dedicated cooks. It’s just another reason for me to salivate over him, and on Wednesday night, I can’t resist a little sampleas he puts the finishing touches on our dinner.
It starts with me nibbling on his scent gland. It’s small, like all beta glands, but the tiny ridge on his neck is so sensitive it should come with a warning label. A few well-placed licks and he grinds me into the counter, his thick thigh wedged between my legs as he plucks at my nipples with his free hand. Since our picnic in the nook, full attire has been optional, and his hands cup my ass under my oversized shirt. It’s one of his old football jerseys, and I think he might be living out a college fantasy as he pushes my thong aside and sinks a finger knuckle deep.
“Talk about a food fetish,” Dash purrs, coming up beside us to kiss my flushed neck. “Carry her over to the table, QB. I want a taste as well.”
The guys exchange a knowing grin, since a similar scenario played out at breakfast, although the chocolate sauce in Dash’s hand is a new feature. When we reach the dining table, my clothes are abandoned in favor of the sugary fingerprints they paint on my body in teasing swirls. Nothing is spared – they coat every rib and draw circles around my navel. Dash adorns my nipples in the chocolate glaze, only for Lachlan to suck it off until I’m raw and panting. I want more fingers, more tongues, moreeverything, but the food is ready, and we fall on Lachlan’s meal like we haven’t been stuffing ourselves for three days straight.
“Do you think it’s always going to be like this?” Lachlan asks as he serves me another helping of steaming mussels in a buttery sauce. It’s insanely tasty, but I pause to study his face. “I just mean, this isfun. I always thought fooling around with an omega would be…”
Dash casts me a knowing look. “High maintenance?”
Lachlan rubs his chin with a laugh. “Nah. You should know by now that I don’t mind working for your affections. I just thought it would be intense in a different kind of way. Like I’d always be worried that I wasn’t satisfying you the way you deserved.”
He says this last part staring straight at me, and I don’t hesitate to drop my spoon and crawl into his lap. I don’t think Lachlan has a hang-up about his designation, but he definitely puts too much pressure on himself. The bar with my ex, after all, is about as low as you can get. “I don’t want you to doubt yourself. Ever.” I cup his cheeks, staring deep into his soft brown eyes. “These last few days have been the happiest of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Ditto,” Dash says, leaning over to kiss both of our cheeks before wagging his brows. “And remember, intense means we care, while fun means we’re doing it right.”
I grin, because that sums it up perfectly. A mind-melting connection that leaves a dopey smile on your face.
“And what about your heat?” Lachlan asks carefully, his fingers brushing my messy locks off my face. “Any more ideas on that?”
As I gather my thoughts, Dash dips a fry in his garlic sauce and waves it under his nose. “Still want to auction her off to a pack of strangers, QB?”
“No,” Lachlan growls, snapping up the fry and nipping Dash’s fingers in the process. “Although, while the heat auction is off the table, Safe Haven can still help.” I look at him curiously and he starts scrolling through the iPad he uses to record his recipes. “It might be worth talking to one of our heat coordinators. I had a chat – no names mentioned, of course – and she came up with a few ideas…”
“Oh my God!” Dash snatches the tablet out of his hands, his eyes wide as he scans the screen. “Is this a heatvision board?”
“Um…”
“Oh,Cookie.” Dash slides an arm around Lachlan’s neck, his eyes soft with affection. “If I wasn’t already crazy about your low-cal pasta sauces, I’d fall for you in asnap.”
He’s close enough for our cheeks to brush, and I watch, fascinated, as he claims Lachlan’s mouth until we’re all squirming in our seats. When their kiss finally breaks off, I reach for the iPad. “Can I see this vision board?”
“It’s just some ideas…” Lachlan clears his throat, sounding a little sheepish, but I’m already scrolling. Along with a vision board, he’s used those savvy marketing skills he developed in college to put together a presentation, each slide dedicated to a different aspect of my heat. He’s clearly done a ton of research, going so far as to list the recommended fabrics for sensitive nests, and the best dishes to prepare for energy-sapped omegas.
When I’m done, I try to hide my face in his neck, but he tips my head back, studying my damp cheeks. “Are youcrying?Oh, damn. I’m sorry, Katie. I know it’s not the same as your past heats…”
“No!” I almost drop the iPad in my haste to disabuse him ofthatidea. “I’m not sad; I’m so freakinghappy. Lee’s version of planning was telling me to cue up his favorite playlist and to stock the mini fridge with Dr. Pepper.Thisis so beautifully thoughtful, Lachlan.”
He gives a relieved sigh, his thumbs swiping away my tears. “I’ve had a lot of years to think about it, and I want to make sure everything is perfect.”
