I wait for that feeling of panic, of fear to creep in the way it always does these days when I go to bed with someone. That regret after the deed is done, and that unsettling feeling that it was a mistake and I’ve fallen for the same stupid trap.
But it never comes. It’s gone. Nowhere to be found. There’s only deep satisfaction and desire swimming through my veins and a comfortable contentment as Jake nuzzles at my gland and Levi laps languidly at my clit.
Being with two men, two alphas, is so much more intense, overwhelming, and all consuming than I could ever have imagined. Connie tried to explain this to me but it has to be experienced to be understood. Being cared for by more than one alpha has my little omega heart singing and every single part of my body pleasured.
I close my eyes, let them carry me away, knowing I’m prepared to go further. That I trust these men to take more from me.
“I want Levi to knot me too,” I whisper, before I fall asleep.
It’s much later when I wake again, the room dark with night and the two alphas sleeping beside me, our legs tangled, both their arms wrapped around my body. For a moment, I simply marvel at them. They both possess bodies that have women drooling; well built, honed, strong. But where one alpha is fair, the other is dark, and then here I am, somewhere in between, my own skin a honey colour.
Levi has a tangle of inks scrawled across his body, far more than Jake, and I study them, curious about what each one represents. While Jake’s chest is smooth, Levi has a small patch of fuzz at the centre of his chest that trails down his abdomen to the jet curls that frame his heavy cock. It’s half hard despite his sleep. Like Jake, he’s in rut, ready in an instance to service me. All I have to do is ask.
I kiss Jake’s shoulder gently, then Levi’s, before carefully slipping from the bed. I find a discarded t-shirt of Levi’s on the floor and I tug it over my head before going in search of the bathroom.
On my way back down the hallway, I see the light from the kitchen and hear the clink of cutlery against china. Immediately my stomach rumbles with hunger, and despite my unsteady footsteps, I walk towards the kitchen.
I blink as I step through the ajar door and into the room, finding Dylan at the counter, surrounded by packets and jars of ingredients and a large mixing bowl.
He looks up as I enter and lowers the whisk he’s holding.
“Omega, are you alright?” he asks, with concern.
“Yes,” I say, coming to lean against the counter. “I heard a noise … it’s late, isn’t it?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he explains, “Cooking is what I do when I can’t sleep.”
I wonder if I’m the reason he can’t sleep. It must be hard knowing his two packmates are rutting me and not having his own invitation. But we agreed to take this slowly.
I rise up on my tiptoes and peek into the bowl.
“What are you making?”
“Chocolate mousse.”
“Chocolate mousse? Where on earth did you find the ingredients for that?”
“This villa is luxury, it’s stocked with all sorts. But actually the ingredients are pretty simple. Cream, eggs, chocolate. Bit of sugar and butter.”
“The people who stay here probably have chefs with them.”
“Yeah, but I like to cook.”
“I know you do,” I grin. “Can I try?”
He tips his head to one side, giving me a hard stare. “You weren’t exactly convinced by my cooking yesterday.”
“I told you I have high standards.”
“So you should.”
I lean my elbows on the countertop and rest my chin in my hands. “I think so.”
He crooks his finger and beckons me forward. I stroll around the counter top and stop in front of him, struck by how tall he is and intrigued by his scent, like the air after it’s rained.
“I just melted the chocolate,” he says, dipping a wooden spoon into the molten liquid and brushing it against my lips.
Immediately I swipe my tongue along my bottom lip, tasting the bitterness of the dark chocolate.