“I want you, Alarik,” she whispered.
He stilled.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at her, as if he hadn’t fully understood. Then—his eyes darkened with something deep and unfathomable before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that sent heat spiralling through her. It was consuming, a raw, unspoken answer to everything she’d just declared. She sank into it, hands gripping his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, his touch branding her in ways more than skin-deep.
“If that pleases our Omega,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again.
She melted against him, against them both, hands sliding into their hair, their arms—clutching, holding—as though she could tether herself to them, as though she could drown in this moment and never come up for air.
Then, Alarik released her and shifted.
Kaelen kissed her while Alarik’s fingers found the ties at her waist, unfastening them with slow, deliberate ease. The soft rustle of fabric filled the quiet, followed by the faint chime of beads as her tunic loosened.
Cool air kissed her bare shoulders as he eased the garment down her arms, his touch trailing in its wake. Soon, her silk trousers followed. He didn’t rush, just smoothed his hands over her skin, peeling the fabric layers away like she was something precious to be unwrapped.
She gasped against Kaelen’s lips when Alarik’s palm found her breast, his thumb brushing over the taut peak. A sharp, delicious pleasure spiked through her, and she arched into him, pressing closer.
He broke the kiss with a low chuckle, his lips trailing over her jaw, down the curve of her throat.
Then, Alarik’s mouth joined in. A shiver coursed through her as his lips pressed just beneath her ear, warm and lingering.
“You smell like desire,” he murmured, his voice thick. “Do you even realize how much?”
Reiya trembled, caught between the heat of them, between their touch, their mouths, their hands.
Alarik’s head dipped, his lips skimming over the swell of herneglected breast before closing around the peak, his tongue swirling, slow and deliberate. She whimpered when he pulled with his mouth, suckling, and she felt the pressure all the way down to her core.
They laid her down on the furs, bare beneath their gazes. Cool air kissed her skin, sending a shiver through her—not from cold, but from awareness. This was the first time she’d been truly exposed to them, nothing between them but breath and heat.
Golden strands spilled over the furs as she arched, her body seeking, chasing, helpless against the pleasure.
Their mouths returned to her breasts, slow and unrelenting, tongues working her, flicking against her nipples in a rhythm that sent heat curling through every inch of her.
A choked moan escaped her, and their grip on her hips tightened.
“Easy,” Alarik murmured against her skin. “We’ve only just begun.”
Reiya barely had time to process the words before Kaelen’s hand drifted lower, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her stomach, and down until his knuckles brushed against the inside of her thigh. One finger slid along her seam—parting, teasing. She gasped, her head falling back against the furs as he found her slick lips, stroking once, then again. And again.
Alarik’s arms came around her, steadying her as her body clenched in response.
Kaelen’s mouth shifted lower, tracing a path from her breast down to her belly and even lower. She gasped when his lips pressed to the inside of her knee before he kissed higher, his tongue tracing slow, torturous patterns over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Then, his mouth found her, his tongue sliding over her just right, a slow, devastating stroke that had her body jolting in Alarik’s hold.
Softly, he cursed against her temple.
He tightened his grip as Kaelen’s mouth worked her—tongue stroking, circling, flicking with a ruthless precision that sent pleasure sparking down her spine. Every wet pull, every press of his lips drew her higher, the tension winding sharp and hot inside her. It was filthy, the way he devoured her; sinful, intoxicating—and gods help her, she never wanted him to stop.
“Kaelen,” she gasped, her nails biting into his scalp. “More . . . please, Alpha.”
The sound of that word—Alpha—sent a shudder through him.
A deep, primal growl rumbled against her skin, and then his fingers were sliding inside her, stretching her, coaxing her open, his tongue flicking her bud in perfect tandem with each stroke.
Her body burned, vision blurring as her thighs clenched around him, hips lifting into his mouth, desperate, chasing?—
“You’re close, Ketra,” Alarik murmured against her ear, his voice thick with restraint. “Let him take you there.”