Page 28 of In Stockings
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, “so wet.”
“We knew you would be,” Samson says from beside us on the bed. “We could smell you all fucking night. Smell how wet and needy you were. For us, weren’t you, Omega?”
“Y – y – yes!’ she whimpers. “I wanted you so badly. All of you so badly. I wanted you to do this to me. To take me and have me and share me together. I want you to fuck me until I’m a wreck, until I have no voice left to scream. Please. Pleeeaase!”
“Shit!” Craig grunts. “Shit. Anything you want. Omega, anything you want. We’ll please you any way you want. Just ask.”
“Like this,” she says, flinging her head backwards, her spine arching and her intimate parts thrust more firmly against my lips.
I suck on her clit.
I suck her right into my mouth as Craig fucks her, and she falls apart completely. Her words tumbling to nonsense, her hands collapsing from beneath her and that little nub going wild in my mouth.
I love every damn second of it. Every second.
Craig follows her a moment later, groaning, his rhythm faltering. I watch from beneath as his knot inflates, and he stretches her open, locking into her pussy.
It means Samson and I won’t be able to fuck her again until he deflates. I can’t begrudge him for it because knotting my mate is the only want crashing obsessively around my soul.
“How does that feel, little one?” I ask her, lapping at her clit, feeling it vibrate against my tongue.
“So good,” she pants, “So good.”
“You like Craig’s knot?”
She moans, and I take that as an enthusiastic yes.
Me, though. I’m not done here. Her skin is pale, and I love the way it ripples with colour when she comes, love the way her eyes drift shut, and her lips fall open. But I especially love the way she tastes.
I lick at her, and lick and lick.
Craig groans. “Shit, your pussy. It’s …” He grunts. “You’re fucking milking me.”
“I can’t … I can’t …” she wails. And then she comes, right on the tip of my tongue.
Samson kneels beside her, dragging her up, so she’s kneeling up straight. He swipes damp strands of hair that have fallen loose from her braid from her flushed face.
“How was that, little one?”
“Good,” she says with a wide smile of satisfaction.
“Have you had enough? Do you want to stop?”
She frowns and shakes her head.
“If you want us to stop at any moment, all you have to do is say.”
Craig cradles her from behind, nuzzling into her neck. “You smell so good, little mate,” he murmurs.
Her eyes meet Samson’s. “Mate?” she whispers.
“You feel it?” he asks softly.
She hesitates, then nods. “Yes,” she whispers.
I glide my palm up her body from the soft line of curls and up her belly, bulging with Craig inside her.
“Mate,” I say again. “Our little mate.”
