Page 55 of In Deep
I jolt and spasm on the sofa and then I collapse, hot and sweaty and destroyed.
“You gushed,” Zane says, licking his lips. “You gushed straight into my mouth. Fuck, that tastes–”
Duncan grips him by the back of the neck and kisses him hard, and I know he can taste me on Zane’s lips.
When they draw back breathless, they peer at me.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe and I lie there watching as Zane drops to his hands and his knees and Duncan takes him from behind. It’s not like it is with me. It’s more violent, more powerful, both struggling for dominance. Both wanting to be in control. Once Duncan comes, Zane stumbles to his feet and his cock is in Duncan’s mouth in a moment.
I think Zane’s going to come in his pack mate’s mouth, but at the last moment, he pulls back and stumbles towards me.
“I wanna come on you, Rosie. All over your tits.” Duncan’s eyes are wide, his hands claiming Zane’s shoulders, his mouth kissing along Zane’s neck.
“Yes,” I groan and hot ribbons of spend stream from Zane’s dick in pulses, landing on my chest and my stomach. Marking me as theirs.
Chapter 18
Iwake in the night tangled between two sleeping alphas. They are both out for the count, dead weight, which I struggle to move as I slip out in search of water. My mouth is parched, and I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t drink.
I tug on my knickers and throw Zane’s t-shirt over my head.
At the door, I pause with my hand on the handle. I could wake one of the alphas and send them out to fetch me water instead. There is something intimidating about creeping through the silent house, but they both look so peaceful, like sleeping lions, and I don’t have the heart. So with a steadying draw of breath, I tiptoe out into the hallway, down the staircase and into the large cavernous kitchen.
The moon is bright and pours in through the bifold doors, lighting my path to the shelf with the glasses. I stare for a moment at the moving shadows in the garden, listen to the fridge hum quietly in the corner, feel the cold stone tiles under my feet.
Then I reach up on the tips of my toes, the hem of Zane’s t-shirt slipping up my backside. As I do, I sense Seb, his scent seeping into the kitchen.
I freeze, my fingers hovering around the cool glass.
His feet pad on the floor behind me, almost silently, like the movements of a wolf.
I grip the glass and lower back down onto the soles of my feet. I jerk on the tap, trailing my fingers under the cold stream of water as I sense him draw nearer. Closer and closer. Every step towards me forces a fierce beat from my heart.
I can taste his scent more clearly now. Dark, dense, heavy. Like thick, black treacle. The hairs on my forearms prickle and I lick my lips, tasting the scent in my mouth. My gland hums in my neck.
He keeps coming – my heart thumping with each step – right up behind me. Only stopping when the heat of his body grazes mine. An electricity fizzles down my skin.
“What are you doing here, Omega?” His voice sounds full of restrained anger and I quiver despite my best efforts to appear unafraid.
I go to speak but my voice catches in my dry mouth. I lick my lips and try again, “G-g-getting some water to drink.”
“No, Omega.” His voice is so loud in my head, and yet, I realise he’s whispering. “I asked: what are you doing here?” He bends closer, his nose brushing the strands of my hair, breathing me in, his head lowering to where my gland thrums, begging for the touch of his lips. My body tilts toward him. My eyelids drift shut.
I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say. I sense whatever I say will be wrong.
“You don’t belong here,” he growls, and I recoil.
I thought … for a moment, I thought …
“You’ll never be part of this pack.” His breath is hot on my gland and air rushes over it as he inhales my scent. “Is that what you want?”
“I-I-I …” My head spins. His scent is so deep, so overwhelming. I tighten my grip on the glass feeling it slip through my fingers. His tone and his words are so angry and yet … his scent … am I imagining it?
“I don’t want you,” he snarls. A shiver skates down my spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something in his scent and the heat of his body.
I don’t want him, I don’t want him either.
“You think you’re going to split apart my pack, but you’re wrong.”
