11. Chapter Eleven #2
Gabriel flashes a flicker of a smile, eyes soft. "No arguments here, although I don’t mind if you mark me. You set the rules, we follow."
Jax’s big hand covers mine, squeezing gently. "You don’t want knots, you don’t get knots. Whatever you don’t want, we don’t do. That’s it."
A strange, fresh panic rolls through me. No one’s ever agreed so quickly, so easily. It leaves me floundering, untethered, uncertain, frantic for someone to show me where to put my hands, my body, my…trust.
I stare at the hollow at the base of Ronan’s throat. "That’s good then."
Great comeback, but then I can’t hold back the wince as my insides start to make a blender out of my uterus.
Ronan pushes my hair over my shoulder. His fingertips are so light on my skin I break out in goosebumps. "Tell us what you crave."
"I…" My mind goes painfully, embarrassingly blank. I can’t picture anything past the ache. I have no script. No experience. There’s just the heat twisting inside me, the roll of desire and a terrifying blank space where an answer should be .
I fumble for words and come up empty, frustration sparking under my skin. "I… I don’t know…" I trail off, cheeks burning hotter than the volcano erupting in my blood and the cavern in my core, every inch of me tight and strung out.
I squeeze my knees together, as if I can anchor myself with the friction. The silence stretches, and I want to sink into the pile of cushions and disappear. I don’t know what to do with my body. I don’t know what I’m supposed to want.
Ronan’s voice is gentle, as if he can hear the storm in my head. "Would you like me to help, Kitten?"
It’s impossible to look him in the eye. I just lower my head and nod, once, sharp and miserable.
Embarrassment floods me, making it hard to breathe.
Gods, could this get any more humiliating?
And yet, under the burn of it, there is a small relief as though I’ve let go of a burden I was never meant to carry alone.
"Can I touch you so I can show you what to do? Show you how I can give you relief while you set the pace?" he asks.
I weigh his steady gaze. He lets me study him. Just sits there unmoving and waiting for my call.
"O…okay," I say.
"I’m going to move you on my lap and put your legs either side of my hips," Ronan rasps.
I send him a glare to make sure we’re both on the same page, but his scent remains mellow, thick and masculine with his own arousal.
I trust enough that I nod again and then so slowly, he moves his hand away from my neck.
Then both hands run down my thighs as he shifts me so I’m straddling his lap, knees pressed into the softness of the couch, legs bracketing his hips.
He sets the blanket over my shoulders, covering me from behind.
A shudder works through me as his hardness fills the throbbing place between my legs.
I tense, waiting for the moment he drags me against him and takes what I’m not ready to give.
Instead, he sinks back against the couch, broad arms stretching along the top of the sofa.
I sit on his lap, core throbbing. Every instinct tells me to flatten over his chest and grind on the thick knot trapped in his pants, but I can’t make myself move. Not until I know it’s the right thing to do .
"Move against me, Kitten." His voice is thick with want. He clenches the back of the cushions so deep the material strains, but makes no moves to force me to do anything.
My breath wheezes. I’m splayed over him intimately. Thank the Gods the towel is wrapped tightly around my body because I don’t want to know how much slick I’m coating him with.
"Use me to ease your pain. Please," Ronan says.
An offering and surrender. I give an experimental slide of my hips and the most exquisite sensation shoots through me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. A sigh drifts from my parted lips as I do it again. And again. My body is a live wire, every nerve screaming more, more, more .
The heat between my thighs is unbearable, slick coating my skin, soaking through Ronan's jeans where I now rock against him in earnest. I glance down to see my pussy lips spread over the denim covering his bulge. He’s huge under the material.
The sheer size of him stretches the denim taut, and each twitch of his cock sends sparks through my flesh.
"You're shaking," Jax murmurs from beside me. His dark eyes are fathomless pools locked on me. Sweet, smoky warmth wraps around us but he doesn't reach for me.
But Gabriel…
Gabriel vibrates on the couch on my other side. Orange zest spikes with excitement, and he licks his lips like he's tasting the air and excitement zips along my spine.
"Fucking hell," he breathes, fingers flexing on his thighs. "Look at you. So beautiful. Riding your Alpha so well."
Ronan bites a sharp warning. "Gabriel."
Gabriel's grin is all teeth. "Just saying, Sweetheart. Please choose me next."
My face burns, but Godsdammit. The idea of him watching, of all of them seeing me come apart like this, sends a fresh flood of slick between my thighs.
Ronan's nostrils flare. "Let her set the pace, Gabriel," he grits out .
The words send a shudder through me, and my next grind is harder. Ronan's entire body jerks, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as his cock throbs beneath me.
"Like that," he pants. His voice is so husky I barely recognize it. "Fuck, just—"
My hips move faster, chasing the rising fire in my core. Slick drips down my thighs, leaving a dark, glistening stain across his crotch.
My fingers dig into Ronan’s shoulders, not to push him away, but to hold on, as if he’s the only anchor in a world that’s dissolving into heat and hunger.
His skin is fever-hot under my hands, muscles locked tight, quivering with the effort of staying still.
Every breath he takes is ragged, his essence thickening the air until it’s all I can taste, all I can feel, sinking into my lungs, my skin, my blood.
My hips move without thought, an instinctive, undulating rhythm, rolling against the hard ridge of his cock. Each drag sends sparks shooting through me, my clit throbbing, my slick soaking through the thin barrier of fabric between us.
"Good girl," he thrums. "That's it. Let yourself go. Give yourself the pleasure you need."
My breath catches as a sweet, sharp jolt uncoils through me and a shock of intense pleasure wrenches a cry from my throat. My back arches, nails biting into Ronan’s shoulders as my body clenches around nothing.
Ronan thrusts his hips up as I grind against him, strengthening the hardness I ache for. My movements turn frantic, my thighs shaking as I chase the inferno licking up my spine. The tension builds until my vision blurs.
My body bows, every nerve alight, pleasure erupting through me. For one suspended moment, I’m weightless. I hear myself sob, a broken, shattered sound, as an orgasm rips through me, relentless, consuming, stealing my breath, my thoughts. Everything as white light funnels around me.
Ronan cock jerks beneath me. His groan is a roll of thunder under my hands and damp warmth grows against my skin.
I vaguely realize he’s orgasmed too, without even being inside me.
I crumple against Ronan’s chest, boneless and spent, my body wracked with tremors.
Each desperate breath drags in his scent, grounding me even as every inch of my skin is flayed open.
My feverish, oversensitive nerves still spark.
The insides of my thighs are slick, every muscle slack except the ones still fluttering with aftershocks.
That was. Gods, I can hardly believe it. An orgasm. My first .
Everything is soft and shaky. My body won’t move, and I can’t find my voice.
I just lie there, pressed to Ronan’s chest, heart racing, barely breathing, waiting for the world to crash back in.
He says nothing, just strokes my hair. For a moment, I almost believe I’m safe.
I close my eyes, afraid to break the spell.
I’d heard the whispering of Omegas when I was young and naive, listening to their fantasies in the dark but none had warned me about the reality.
The way it’s like drowning and flying, like being unspooled down to the marrow, every scrap of ache devoured by a rush of blinding pleasure.
The way it took me apart with the force of a star burning out, then dropped me helpless and half-mad in the aftermath.
A deep purr rolls from Ronan’s chest so low it thrums through my bones, a sound I feel as well as hear. The shiver it sends through me is as intense as the afterglow.
He’s pleased. With me. His body radiates satisfaction and heat, as if my coming apart in his arms is everything he’s ever wanted.
That thought burns down my spine, fusing shame and desire into something I can’t untangle.
Embarrassment sparks inside me, but a hotter, sweeter pride blooms above it.
I hide my face against his chest with a shuddering whimper, unable to meet his eyes, longing to disappear into his skin because heat is stroking high inside me.
I need a breath, a moment to collect the pieces of myself scattered all over this male but the relief is already draining away, replaced by a cruel wave of fresh, hungry ache. As though my body is wanting to make up for every denied release through all the heats I’ve suffered through.
Aftershocks ripple through me when the heat surges back, licking even higher, spreading through my belly. My core tightens, greedy and empty, the urgent desire refusing to fade.
This can’t happen so soon.
Not this fast.
Not this hungry.
Shame licks up my throat. I’ve barely come undone in Ronan’s arms and already I’m clenching around nothing, slick dripping fresh between my thighs.
Worse than the physical need is the horrified understanding that this isn’t just my heat.
It’s them. Their scents, their voices, the way they look at me.
It’s the bond, sinking its teeth deeper, and I can’t figure out how to fight it when part of me wants to bare my throat and beg for their bite.
Ronan’s purr vibrates against my cheek where I’m collapsed against his chest. His fingers stroke my spine, slow and reverent, but his cock is still hard beneath me, twitching with every ragged breath he takes. He knows how I feel. Of course he knows.
I shift in his lap, hips grinding against the heavy, unyielding bulk of him. A desperate sound slides out before I can stop it. His purr stutters, breath hissing through his teeth. I squeeze my eyes shut. The words tear out of me like a confession. "Alpha, please. More.’"
"Fuck," Ronan growls, the word thick and rough as he touches my forehead. "You’re burning up, Kitten."
I am. I’m so hot. Burning alive. Incinerated from the inside out.
Heat rolls through me, sharpening to a vicious point, beating in time with every steady, hungry throb of Ronan’s body beneath mine.
My mind reels, fractured between terror and want.
I don’t want to be here. I want to run. I want to brace myself against the world and close every door.
But I want more.
I don’t.
I need.
I hesitate.
I burn for them.
I’m afraid.
In the end, my body betrays me. The compulsion erases everything but the ache in my core and the rising promise of relief.
I drag in the air, find it spiced with zest, and desperation eclipses any fear holding me back.
I lean into the delicious fragrance that calls to the deepest part of myself, and the Alpha throbbing under my skin. "Alpha, please. More."