Page 47 of Omega in Love
"Ride me, Petal. Sit on my dick and let me fuck their cum out of you," I say possessively, my voice a low growl. Neither Hero nor Levi respond to my words, their eyes are only for Brookes, watching him with a hunger that matches my own.
Brookes lifts himself up just enough to guide me into him. He sinks down slow, his mouth parting in an O, his eyes hooded and blissed out. The sensation of him enveloping me is exquisite, his body tight and hot around me. When his ass hits my thighs, I lean forward, licking the sweat and cum from his chest, needing to taste him, to claim him as my own. Brookes groans in response, his body shuddering as he begins to roll his hips, riding me with slow, undulating movements.
I can see fatigue on his face. Grabbing his hips, my grip tight, I help him move, fucking up into him, my body aching with the need to claim him, to fill him completely.
"Dante!" Brookes shouts, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and pain that sends a surge of desire through me.
"You ready to cum for me, Petal? Take my knot like a good Omega." My voice a low growl as I pick up the pace, lifting him up and slamming him down with each thrust.
"Yes, please. Yes." Brookes cries, his head falling forward to rest on my shoulder. Turning my head into his neck, I find my mark waiting for me. I run my tongue over it slowly, reverently, the taste of his skin making my head spin. Brookes’ ass tightens around me in response, his body clenching and releasing in a rhythm that matches my own.
Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around his dick, stroking him in time with my thrusts until Brookes is screaming in my ear, his body convulsing with the intensity of his release. Ropes of his cum coat us both as I thrust once more, my knot swelling painfully as I push past the tight ring of muscle and lock myself inside of him. I cum hard, shouting Brookes’ name as my body sinks further into the couch, my arms wrapping around him protectively. His body quivers, his breaths ragged as he clings to me, his face buried in the crook of my neck.
As my knot recedes, I slowly pull out of Brookes, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. He sighs softly, his body going completely limp against mine, utterly spent from our lovemaking. The scent of roses intensifies around us, mingling with our combined musk in the warm air of the living room. Hero and Levi join us on the couch, not even hesitating despite the sticky mess we've made of ourselves and the Italian leather beneath us. We position ourselves around him instinctively, arranging our bodies so he's perfectly cradled between us, his slender frame draped across the three of us like the most precious blanket. My hand finds its way to the small of his back, tracing gentle circles there as our bodies surround him, our combined warmth and protective energy enveloping him completely.
The rise and fall of Brookes’ chest gradually steadies, his breathing evening out as he melts further into our embrace. I watch, mesmerized, as those long lashes flutter against his cheeks before his eyes open, revealing those brown depths thatstill make my breath catch every time. His gaze meets mine first, holding for a moment that feels suspended in time, before sliding to Hero's watchful hazel eyes, and finally settling on Levi's warm brown ones. The soft curve that forms on his lips, that genuine, unguarded smile that took us months to earn, spreads across his face, lighting up his features.
"I love you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. The words hang in the air, precious and perfect. "All of you. So much." His slender fingers reach out, tracing invisible patterns on each of our skin as if committing us to memory all over again.
My heart swells painfully at his declaration, making it hard to breathe for a moment. The fierce protectiveness I've always felt for him transforms, expands, becomes something even more profound. "I love you too, Petal," I whisper back, letting the emotion I usually keep locked down color my voice. My hand moves from his back to cup his face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone reverently. "More than anything in this world."
Beside us, Hero's hand reaches out with that characteristic grace of his, long fingers gently stroking Brookes’ cheek with a tenderness that belies his lethal capabilities. "I love you, Heart," he murmurs, his voice barely audible yet filled with an intensity that speaks volumes. His eyes never leave Brookes’ face as he adds, "Always." The word carries the weight of Hero's promise, steady, unwavering, eternal.
Levi shifts slightly, his massive arms tightening around Brookes’ more delicate frame. His large body somehow manages to envelop our Omega without overwhelming him, offering a fortress of muscle and warmth. "I love you, Bloom," he says, his deep voice rumbling through all of us like distant thunder, gentle yet powerful. His dimples appear as he smiles, adding, "Forever." The single word carries all the straightforward devotion that makes Levi who he is.
Brookes’ smile widens at our declarations, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears that catch the low light of the room. One escapes, tracking down his cheek, and I catch it with my thumb before it can fall. "Forever," he echoes, his voice filled with a promise that sounds like coming home. His scent blooms around us, roses in full, glorious bloom.
In this perfect moment, surrounded by our love, our promises, our forever, Brookes shines brighter than any star in the New York sky outside the windows. His light, once dimmed by trauma and fear, radiates from within, illuminating all of us. We, his Alphas, once just assigned protectors, now bound to him by something far stronger than duty, are the lucky ones who get to bask in that light for the rest of our days. The mission that brought us together has transformed into something none of us expected but all of us needed. A family, forged in protection but sustained by love.
Chapter 21
Brookes
The moment we pull up to the venue, it hits me like a wall of sound and flashing lights. Paparazzi line the barricades, shouting my name, bulbs going off like lightning against the Manhattan skyline. The car window tints shield me from their prying lenses, but I can feel the energy vibrating through the metal frame.
Dante scans the crowd from the driver's seat, his jaw tight. "Clear path to the entrance. Security's holding the line."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. This is my first major runway since the incident, my return to New York Fashion Week after everything that happened. My comeback. My reclamation.
I don't give them anything to scrutinize, not tonight. Tonight is too important.
"This is for good luck," I say, leaning over to kiss Dante first. His mouth is warm, sure, and grounding. Hero's kiss is next, steadier, deeper. Levi's last, and he cups the back of my neck like he's anchoring me to the moment.
Hero's eyes glint with quiet fire. "You don't need luck," he says, voice low and firm. "You've already got this."
The doors open and everything surges.
Inside the venue, it's chaos. Beautiful, expensive chaos. Models flit by in pre-show outfits, stylists buzz around like bees in a hive, and someone's shouting in Italian over a headset. The air itself seems charged with anticipation, perfume mingling with hairspray and the metallic tang of anxiety. Racks of clothing worth more than most people's annual salary line the walls, guarded by assistants with clipboards and stern expressions.
I'm immediately swept away by Camilla, dressed in all black, her brown eyes sparking with excitement as she rolls her kit toward the makeup mirrors. The wheels of her professional case click rhythmically against the polished floor as she navigates through the backstage madness.
"Darling, I've been waiting all week to get my brushes on that face," she declares, already pulling out her arsenal of products. "Sit. Don't argue. We've got exactly twenty-seven minutes to make you transcendent."
I sit, surrendering to her expertise. The familiar ritual calms me, the cool press of primer, the gentle sweep of foundation.
She gets to work, sponges and powders flying with practiced precision. Her movements are quick and deliberate, transforming my features with each dab and stroke. The chatter around us fades to white noise as she creates her magic, humming softly under her breath.
Mathéo Delvecchi appears behind us like a whirlwind in designer boots and a dramatic scarf that somehow doesn't move even though he's flailing. His cologne announces his presence seconds before he does, something expensive and undoubtedly exclusive.
