Chapter 27 #2
The bars of Rage’s cage creak as he grips them, his eyes locked on Mirabelle like she’s the only thing that exists in his universe.
Maybe I fucking did.
I swallow hard, my gaze darting back to Mirabelle whose gaze is darting between all three of us. I’m shocked she’s not buckling at the overwhelming amount of our alpha dominance swirling about in the room.
“Unless you’re saying you’re picking Ash,” Griffin continues, when the silence in the room stretches between all of us.
Part of me desperately wants her to say yes. Say she’s picking me. That I’m the only one she needs.
But that would be fucked up. Because I know I’ll never be able to give her everything an omega like her deserves.
I also know, deep down, that Mirabelle isn’t the type of girl to just pick one of us. She’s never shown any sign of favorites.
“N—no, I don’t want to pick,” Mirabelle says softly, fisting her hands into the silk fabric of the robe. “But I don’t want to not pick... So—so should I kiss all of you?”
My hands fist at my sides and I freeze under her gaze as turns her wide eyes to me.
“If that’s what you want, Shortcake, I’m not gonna stop you.” The words taste like fucking ash on my tongue.
But they’re the words she needs to hear.
“O—Okay,” She says, nodding like a little bobble head, her eyes darting between Rage’s and Griffin’s cages like she doesn’t know which one to pick.
Rage’s dominance is suffocating. He’s surprisingly quiet, but his chest is heaving and his face is twisted into a grimace, almost like he’s in physical pain.
He stares at Mirabelle with a look so intense I don’t think anyone but her could just stand there and take it. Everyone else would probably wither under its strength.
“I can wait,” Griffin says, his voice deceptively even. “Go take care of Rage.”
The new guy is using every last ounce of control he has to make the decision for her.
Kudos to him.
I obviously don’t have that sort of willpower, considering the moment I saw her in that lingerie I knew I had to have a taste of her, consequences be damned.
She takes slow and hesitant steps towards Rage’s cage. The bars creak as his knuckles go white, but he doesn’t move.
“Do you—do you want a kiss, Rage?” She asks softly, reaching up and resting her hand on top of one of his.
He stiffens under her touch, but his chin dips in the barest hint of a nod.
“Okay!” She smiles brightly up at him.
God, that fucking smile.
I think all three of us can agree that smile does something to our brains.
Actually, make that four.
Rowan’s eyes are locked onto everything happening with the intensity of someone who’s interested in Mirabelle as more than a friend. His feelings for her obviously go beyond the normal protective kind. It’s written across his face right now.
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be your first kiss, right? It’s kind of funny how technically, I’m the more experienced person since I just had my first kiss a minute ago,” Mirabelle says, doing that nervous babbling she does.
A low growl leaves Rage’s throat at the mention of my kiss with her before he lowers his head down.
Their kiss is a little awkward at first, given the height difference, inexperience on both ends, and the fact they’re kissing through bars. Even with Mirabelle’s sky high heels, Rage has to bend down a considerable amount to make things work.
I don’t think he’s complaining, though, if the possessive, satisfied growl that leaves his chest when the two of them find a sloppy rhythm together is anything to go by.
Mirabelle’s perfume swirls around the air, sweet as candy. It coats the back of my throat, mixing with the lingering sweetness of her on my tongue.
If there weren’t a cage between us, I’d have her pinned down beneath me, driving her as crazy as she drives me.
When their kiss finally breaks as they come up for air, their chests heave almost like they were both holding their breaths the entire time. It’s cute.
For whatever reason, the territorial part of my brain isn’t nearly as upset as I thought it’d be.
Maybe ‘cause I got there first. Maybe ‘cause Rage was the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in this shithole for a long fucking time. Or maybe it’s just ‘cause I see how happy Mirabelle is.
Her smile is wide and lazy. Rage leans down and presses his forehead against hers, making his cheeks press into the bars, like he’s trying to breathe her in and soak in the moment.
“Wow,” Mirabelle breathes out.
Rage lets out a satisfied purr that honestly sounds closer to a growl than a normal alpha purr.
“My turn, Sweetheart,” Griffin calls out.
She reaches up and brushes some of Rage’s dark and messy shoulder length hair away from his face before turning to walk over to Griffin. Her steps are still more deer-like than siren-like in those heels.
Rowan better stay by her the entire night to help her walk. I’m sure she’s going to be in pain soon, if she isn’t already.
Fucking hell, look at me, one kiss and I’m worried about whether a girl’s feet hurt or not.
“Hi,” she breathes out as she steps up in front of Griffin.
Griffin doesn’t even bother responding before he’s reaching through the bars of his cage and tugging her against it with a hold on her waist. At the angle I’m at, I can see her tits framed by the bars, accentuating their fullness.
Griffin’s lips descend on hers. Hungry and barely controlled.
She seems to have picked up on the rhythm of kissing pretty quickly, because she finds it far quicker than she did with me, nipping at Griffin’s lips hungrily in return.
His hand drifts down from her waist to her ass and squeezes over the robe. The bottom curve of her ass peeks out at the room.
Their kiss is hot as hell.
Maybe this sharing an omega thing won’t be that bad after all.
When they finally break apart, Rowan clears his throat.
“Okay guys, it’s time to get you prepped for your fight,” he mumbles, not able to meet any of our gazes.
His cheeks are pink. I don’t know whether it’s from jealousy or from how fucking sexy our little omega is without even trying.
Probably both.