Chapter 25 #2
Zev keeps his brown eyes on mine the entire time. When I try to look away, he cups my face in his palm and makes me hold the gaze. “You’re so beautiful, angel. Let us apologize this way for everything we’ve done.”
Connor hums against my nipple. “Yes, let us.”
Fowler kneels beside the coffee table and watches Connor work. I feel the pressure of his eyes everywhere—on my chest, my stomach, the inside of my knees. It makes my skin prickle. “You’re beautiful.” He sounds stunned.
Zev leans in to kiss my throat. His teeth swipe the sensitive skin, but he’s careful not to bite or leave anything resembling an alpha’s mark. He draws in a long, deep breath. “God, Grace. You smell divine.”
Connor moves lower as his hands grip the waistband of my shorts. I lift my hips, and he peels them down, underwear and all. There’s a slick sound as the fabric pulls away and my scent hits the open air.
All three of them groan, almost in unison.
Connor’s hands tremble. Zev’s thumb traces slow circles over my cheekbone.
They lay me out, knees parted and back arched. Connor kneels between my legs and kisses the inside of my knee before slowly making his way up the crease of my thigh. Each kiss lands and waits. My toes curl and my belly shivers.
Zev’s fingers move through my hair in long, slow passes. Fowler braces my left leg on his shoulder and drags his tongue slowly from my ankle to my knee.
Then Connor’s mouth finds my clit. There’s no shyness to it—his tongue is everywhere, wide and greedy, like he’s been dying for this taste and will leave not a drop behind.
Instinct takes over. My hips buck up. Connor groans approval against me, the reverberation making my toes curl.
He licks in slow, languid drags, then flicks tight circles.
All of it is so blessedly merciless I can’t remember a single other thing on earth, least of all why these three feel the need to make this final, very convincing apology.
Connor holds nothing back. It’s exactly the same as how he skates: with directed force and precision.
He never lets up lets me drift away from the edge.
Every time my breath snags and my thighs tremble, he doubles down, flattening his tongue or curling it, switching things up so my body never gets used to one sensation before the next one crashes over.
My climax breaks over me like a wave. My heels dig into the table and my thighs clamp down around Connor’s ears.
“Connor!” His name tumbles out of me in a sound I don’t quite recognize as my own voice.
My fingers find his hair and grip. He hums against me, pleased, and the vibration undoes me all over again.
But it isn’t just Connor pleasuring me. Zev keeps a hand on my face, gentle and steady, while he palms one of my breast. He leans in to suck the other in a sensation that sends another climax crashing through me.
Fowler kisses down my shin and up again. His hands wander in a constant gentle stroking all over my body. When I sob out a desperate plea of pleasure, he leans in to claim my mouth and kisses me fiercely.
The three of them together are overwhelming.
I am folded open and cracked apart, every part of me exposed to their hands and mouths and eyes.
My legs shake. My hands scrabble for purchase and land on Zev’s wrist, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
All while Connor remains relentless, licking and sucking with the single-minded determination of someone who has decided that making me lose control is a sacred calling.
I am being worshiped. There is no doubt about that. All three of them, knelt around me on a scuffed coffee table, their faces, their scents, their bodies pressed in tight, all for me.
I can’t hold back the noises I make—guttural and wild.
Sometimes it’s their names slipping off my lips.
Other times it’s only whimpers. The pleasure builds and builds, climbing higher and higher, until I cum again and again and I’m left to be a sensitive bundle of omega before three handsome alphas.
In a flash, Zev and Connor switch places, so now Zev has his turn between my thighs.
He’s rougher than Connor, and slips two thick fingers inside me.
By the time he’s worked in a third I’m bucking off the coffee table all over again.
I hadn’t realized how empty I was, how much I ache for more, until now—and now I crave even more.
Fowler is still at my breasts, kneading and sucking, while Connor comes to kiss me.
I taste myself on him. Everything about this moment is so hot that I may actually combust.
The next orgasm is a blur—just sensation and the echo of my name in three different voices. I cum again. Zev doesn’t let up until I beg, until I physically pull his head away because I’m now that sensitive. I’m shaking all over, limp, a puddle of omega on a table that’s not even mine.
“You are all…” I breathe in short gasps. “Amazing. Forgiven.” Mine.
They smile, relief clear in all their eyes.
“Grace,” Fowler says. “Can I—?”
I nod. He doesn’t even need to finish the question.
He takes Zev’s place and slides three fingers into me, slow and careful, pressing up into that spot that makes me see stars.
He’s gentle and methodical where the other two weren’t.
Then he just…holds me open, staring like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, “I could do this forever.”
Then Fowler works that place again and again. I’m so sensitive it doesn’t take long until my body quakes again and I’m wiping sweat from my brow.
But it doesn’t go farther. No one fucks me.
I want them to, god, I want it so bad right now.
But they don’t. They just touch and taste, worship me like I’m something worth making a sacrifice to.
Every time I moan or whimper, the room gets hotter, the air more stifling, until it’s hard to know where I end and the alphas begin.
Eventually, when I’m completely spent, they start to pull back. Zev lifts me off the table and carries me to the bathroom in his arms like I weigh nothing at all. He sets me on the closed toilet and kneels in front of me, wiping sweat and tears of joy from my cheeks with a towel.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I laugh, hoarse. “I’ve never been better in my entire life.” I reach up to touch his face. It’s impossible to ignore the bulges in each of their jeans. “Are you sure you don’t want to? I mean…”
He just gives me a warm smile. “Absolutely sure. Tonight was about you, princess.”
Fowler leans into the doorway. Connor appears behind him.
I don’t know what to say, so I just smile and continue to let them clean me up.
After, Zev wraps me in a hoodie that smells like him.
The three of them guide me into Zev’s bedroom.
There’s not enough space for four people to sleep comfortably in Zev’s queen bed, but we make it work—Connor on one side, Zev on the other, Fowler draped across my legs like a weighted blanket.
The adrenaline and sweat start to fade, and what’s left is warmth and safety. There is a version of me that thought this would never be possible.
I’m happy she was wrong.
I curl tighter between the three alphas, and the last thing I remember is Zev pressing a kiss to the top of my head, murmuring, “We’ve got you.”