Page 208 of Knot So Lucky
He grins, half-evil, and strokes the spot he just marked.
“So greedy,” he says, voice a low rumble. “Could spank you all night and you’d still ask for more, wouldn’t you?”
He does it again—harder.
I see the pink bloom spreading under his palm, the way Aurora shudders every time impact lands. Her legs are spread wide, dress bunched so high it’s basically a necklace now, nothing left to the imagination except the thin strip of fabric barely covering her. Blue and silver glitter everywhere—on her thighs, on Cale’s jeans, dusted even across the pillows.
The room smells like her.
Like slick, sweat, want.
Every inhale is a direct hit to my spine.
Cale alternates—one hand gripping her ass, thumb digging in, the other smacking until her skin is hot to the touch. She moans louder, head buried in the cushions, hips rolling with each slap like she’s trying to catch every ounce of pain and convert it to pleasure.
“Look at this,” Cale taunts, glancing over at me. “Soaked through already. You’re a mess, Trouble—got your fancy panties all ruined and we barely started.”
He hooks two fingers under the band of her thong and pulls it up, then lets it snap back just for the sound.
Aurora whimpers, thighs clenching even tighter.
Then he tugs them down—slow, deliberate, making a show out of every centimeter. The fabric peels away from skin sticky with need.
“Now that’s how an Omega’s supposed to look,” Cale says, flicking his gaze to me. “Bet you want to taste, don’t you, Alpha?”
I want to snarl at him, to bite, to rip him in half for showing off, but the truth is I’m already moving—down on my knees, face flush with Aurora’s heat.
“Come lick this mess up,” Cale orders, voice all command now, no room for argument. “Your punishment, sweetheart, is to suck Luca’s cock when he’s done cleaning you up. Think you can manage that?”
Aurora’s answer is a choked sound—half-laugh, half-moan—but her hips are already wiggling back toward my mouth.
I hesitate—half a second, tops—just to pretend I’m not dying to do it.
Then I bury my face between her legs.
The first taste is always a shock—like getting hit with a wave at full speed, salt and fire and the punch of “mine” going straight to the brainstem. Aurora’s slick is everywhere, thick and sweet and intoxicating, Omega scent tangled with the smoke and vanilla and gasoline until it’s all I can breathe, all I want to breathe.
I lick her—slow at first, teasing, just to watch her squirm. But patience is a myth and she’s already fucked up from the spanking, so I ramp it up fast—tongue plunging deep, then flatand broad over her clit, then back to sucking every ounce of slick she gives me.
Aurora makes noises I’ve never heard from any human—raw, fractured, desperate.Her hands dig into the cushions. Her back arches so far I think she might snap in half. Cale’s hand stays on her ass the entire time, sometimes guiding her, sometimes just holding her in place for me.
“God, yes, right there, just—don’t stop, don’t—” Her voice breaks on the last word, turning into a whine that only makes me hungrier.
I add a finger, then two—curled just right, massaging the spot that makes her sob.
Every time I pull back to catch my breath, Cale lands another smack, sending her straight into orbit.
This is what I crave.
The loss of control, the way she shatters under my mouth, the pride in knowing no one—*no one*—can do this to her but us.
The orgasm hits her like a crash at the apex—sudden, violent, impossible to slow down. Her whole body shakes, thighs clamping around my head, and she screams—loud enough I know we’re going to get complaints, if not applause, from the other side of the wall.
I don’t stop.
Not even when the aftershocks threaten to tear her apart.
I lap up every drop, tongue soft and slow now, worshipping her until she’s limp and panting.
