Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
As if he could ever leave.
I may be a bastard for backing him into this, but I’m not stupid. I see the gratitude lurking under his disbelief. The undeniable piece of my former friend who wants this omega more than he wants his grudges.
I knew he would.
Because I do, too.
“On the bed,” I determine. That will be most comfortable for our little human.
Rask shoots me a dark look, opening his mouth to protest. I react like a true Alpha, growling lower than he ever could. “If you’re going to fuck my omega again, you’re going to do it my way.”
Sofi whines. Blatant hunger burns the frustration from Rask’s face. “Come here, korryna.”
His murmur pricks my ears. I’ve listened to Rask and his tail-chasing for twenty orbits—but I’ve never heard him sound so tender. Or use that particular Roktusian word.
Treasure.
Half of me wants to rage. The other half agrees too wholeheartedly to do anything more than watch while he arranges her.
The omega whimpers as he leaves her in the center of my sleeping pad. Too late, it occurs to me that we ought to be in her room. Omegas like to nest when they have heat surges.
Rask has the same thought. Without pause, he eyes the four cushions lined up along the bed’s grand stone headboard. Correctly choosing the one I’ve slept with for the last span, clutching it each night as if it could ever replace my mate.
“Here, little one,” he offers, plucking the cushion up and propping it under her head.
Sofi turns her face to sniff the musky fabric. Her sigh of relief has my horns throbbing, along with my cocks.
Rask rumbles his approval, snapping an impatient hand toward me. “Your breeches, Zortaire.”
The bastard must know they’re half-soaked with pre-cum at this point. Glowering, I pull them down, freeing my tail and then each leg.
The overpowering scent of my musk fills the room, mixing with Sofi’s perfume in a whole new way. Rask groans, dropping his forehead to her shoulder as his back heaves, wings going slack where they drape off the side of the sleeping pad.
My tail weaves behind me as I stride to the lone chair beneath my chamber windows. I kick it toward the bed, sliding to the opposite edge. Sitting back, I spread my thighs and let my cocks bob forward, putting them on full display for our omega.
A wave of Alpha power thunders under my voice. “Take your kilt off.”
Rask shivers, the command sinking past his defenses. He does as he’s told, balancing on his toes and one elbow to shove his leather drape off with the other hand. Casting me a murderous look while he obeys, of course.
But not for long.
His pricks come into view. Sofi writhes. Her hips kick up, bucking. “Rask,” she pleads.
Then turns her head toward me. “Z-Zolkan.”
Pain and need burn through me. I sit forward, unable to resist smoothing my palm over her lovely brown hair. “I am here, omega. Do you like his cocks? Do they please you?”
Sofi’s wide, darkened gaze flits to where Rask suddenly kneels, putting himself on display for her. Puffing out his chest, he takes one shaft in each fist and clenches the muscles carved over his abdomen.
Gods above.
It’s so Rask, I almost smirk.
Sap-skulled pretty boy, Zazt would say, mocking our friend for his carefully tousled hair and the oil he liked to sluice onto his scales.
I never thought that nonsense made much difference, but Sofi clearly likes the way he looks. Her perfume spikes as her small, pink tongue darts out to trace the curve of her lip. “Y-yes.”
She gazes at his fisted cocks with a blend of excitement and trepidation. The latter doesn’t make sense to me; she’s an omega, made to take as many alpha cocks as her heart desires.
I wonder if she even knows what each member does. As her Alpha, I suppose it is my duty to explain—but I was too overset to do it before her first heat surge.
Regret winds me. I swallow a coarse lump of shame and continue stroking her head. “The top one is for pleasure—the lower is for breeding. Though I’m told taking the knots on our breeding cocks can be immeasurably pleasurable, too. Especially when used together.”
Sofi’s delicate throat works. Her lips part on a quiet gasp when Rask’s bottom shaft drips mettle onto the fanned skirt of her gown.
I strangle a possessive snarl. “He will not breed you,” I warn them both. “But his scent will imprint on your skin when he spills this time.”
As much as I hate the thought, it’s inevitable.
Getting an alpha’s cock inside her is the most effective way of easing her pain—and it will be impossible for Rask to keep from leaking in and on her if he fucks her.
I’m not sure how he managed the last two times, though I am grateful I did not have to murder him.
And I know if I so much as swipe my seed over her slick, our combined scent would obliterate every last molecule of my control.
I would rut her. Bite her blank, creamy throat. Lodge my knots inside her so deep, she would be thoroughly bred by morning…
My own mettle is already pooling in the slits of my heads; one oozing clear while the other pumps out thicker drops the same color as Sofi’s skin. She watches with every bit of hunger she showed Rask. That soothes some of my envy, but not much.
To distract myself, I husk, “Move her dress. I want to see her.”
It suddenly seems unthinkable that I haven’t yet. Our brief meeting in her shower showed me the shape of her—including the feminine V between her padded thighs—but I was too busy loathing myself for scaring her to notice much else.
Rask pauses, searching Sofi’s face. When she nods frantically, keening, and tries to undo her own belt, a fond smile touches his mouth.
“Patience, little one.” The cocky bastard smirks. “I will present you to your Zortaire, yes? Show him your pretty cunt?”
Sofi squirms again, panting. “Y-yes, please.”
She’s a jewel. Shimmering, rare. Stubborn and proud when necessary, perfectly submissive when her body needs ours. More precious than gold. Lovelier than any gem.
A treasure, just as Rask said.
He hums his praise, making short work of the gold belt around her waist and the thin pink fabric gathered beneath it.
I suspect Norabi chose the color to help my mate fit in at supper—but as the pale blush falls away, revealing the darker rouge of her pointed nipples…
the vibrant, glorious pink of her slick cunt…
My lungs shudder. My tail falls slack as my legs tremble. If I were not seated, I have no doubt I would be on my knees.
Yield, I think, old battle instincts resurfacing. I yield.
She has two holes, just like our females. Except, on Sofi, only the back one is small and unadorned. The front is decadently colored, coated in shining slick, quivering as she gushes more. I know instinctively that it’s where she needs us most.
Rask is every bit as enraptured. He stares at her hot, sweet-scented core, his musk spinning higher. “All seven hells,” he breathes. “Omega. You are...”
Magnificent beyond words.
At a loss, he looks to me. Offering a rare glimpse of the male I used to know—one who wore charm and confidence like a mask, but always dropped those defenses around his true friends.
His vulnerability and hers strike me at once, reminding me that, like it or not, I am their Alpha. And they await my unworthy approval.
I force down the hoarse lump in my throat, searching for the words Rask can’t find. My gaze burns into our omega’s. “You are our every fantasy, stryllas. You honor us.”
Sofi’s scent deepens, the perfume dizzying. Without meaning to, I begin stroking my free hand down my breeding cock, squeezing the swollen knot in its shaft before working my palm down to the larger swell at its base. My tail curves over my opposite hip, curling over my bare thigh.
Sofi watches, blue irises glittering. Her cunt flutters, so fucking beautiful despite every unfamiliarity.
She’s different from Roktusian females, of course. Their centers are plated—thick slabs of flesh that merely part to reveal a hole.
This, though? Sofi’s layers of soft folds, all as plump and delicate as her lips?
She is a masterpiece.
Mine, the snarling voice inside me husks. Climbing its cage. Rattling the bars. Mine, mine, mine.
Which only makes it harder to wave a hand at Rask, warning, “If you don’t take her now, I will.”