Chapter 29 Ryker
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ryker
I try to hold my breath. It doesn’t help.
Roses, eucalyptus, a faint note of damp earth—calming, grounding, and somehow intoxicating all at once. It claws up my throat, wrapping around me, dragging my control down into a pit I can’t climb out of.
I handled Claire in heat, but this… this is different. This is raw, desperate, need twisting through every fiber of her body and mine.
She’s lying on the bed, her fingers tracing over her thighs, her pink bra taunting me. Her hair is wild, falling across her shoulders, and every movement she makes is deliberate, torturing me.
I can feel my Alpha instincts stretching, straining, wanting, needing.
“Ryker…” Her voice is low, breathy, full of something that shouldn’t be legal to hear.
I can’t look away. I can’t speak. My hands want to roam, my mouth wants to claim. I step closer, trying to give her something—anything—to ease her need.
“I… I can get you a bath. Or water. A damp cloth… something,” I rasp.
Her laugh is soft, knowing, and it makes me lose another fraction of control. “You know what I need,” she says, eyes dark. She shifts, just enough to make my teeth ache, enough to get a better view of her pink thong.
It must be soaked. Her smell brands itself in my skin. I want to taste her.
I need to taste her.
I have to fight to stay standing, to not collapse onto her, to not take her right here.
She crawls toward me, scent mingling with mine, and I groan. My hands reach instinctively, tracing her freckled back, slipping under her bra strap.
“We… we can’t—” I choke out, but the words are useless.
She nuzzles against my stomach, my chest, pressing closer, claiming me with every movement. Her eyes flick up at me, pouty, mischievous, daring me to lose the last bit of self-control.
I do.
I tilt her against me, lips finding hers in a harsh, demanding kiss. She responds immediately, body melting against mine, hands clutching at my stomach, tugging me closer.
“Finally,” she whispers against my mouth, and it’s all I can do to stay upright. “Ryker.”
Her fingers slide over me, dragging me closer to the edge I’ve been holding back from. They press into my chest, slide over my belly button, and then up again to twist my nipples.
“Holy fuck, Omega!” My hands press into her hips, my mouth moving to her neck, and the ache in me snaps, a growl deep in my chest.
Every instinct, every Alpha urge is screaming for her, and I finally give in, letting the heat between us take over completely.
She cries out, back arching, hips pushing, every motion dragging me deeper. My hands roam, mouth following, claiming everything she offers.
Her thighs are slick under my fingers, trembling, tightening, clinging to me. I drag my teeth along the waistband of her soaked panties, tugging just enough to tear them.
The smell of her chokes me, and I lap at her, tasting her, needing her in a way that makes my stomach twist and my knees weaken.
My towel slips. I don’t care. I grab myself, long, hard strokes, lost entirely. My eyes are on her face, watching her shiver, watching her fingers clutch the sheets, watching her body pulse under me.
She twitches against my mouth, a shuddering, ragged wave. Each spasm drills straight into my chest, setting fire to every nerve ending. She cries out, voice broken, hips jerking, nails digging into the mattress.
“Again,” I growl deep in my chest. “Again, Omega.”
Her scent curls up, thick and heavy, and I can’t fight it. I shouldn’t want to fight it.
Her hands rake over my arms, her nails grazing my skin, marking me without thinking, an invitation I can’t refuse. Every mewl, every moan, every sharp inhale she throws out twists me tighter, curls my stomach in knots of need.
I press harder, teeth finding soft skin along her thigh, mouth moving in a frenzy, heat climbing, claws gripping her hips, pulling her flush to me. Then, a sound I don’t expect, cutting through the haze.
“What the fuck…”
I freeze. My head snaps up. Dorian and Jude are in the doorway.
I hadn’t even noticed them.
Their faces are pale, stunned, eyes wide, like they just walked into a hurricane. My hands are still on her, mouth still hot against her skin, pulse racing, blood pounding through me like molten metal.
“I… I couldn’t help myself,” I manage to rasp. My throat is raw from groaning her name, from biting, from losing control.
Before they can process, I jerk my gaze back down, pulling her close again.
Her thighs are slick, pressing against my hips, and I want—no, I need—every inch of her. She’s writhing under my hands and mouth, pulling me closer with every twist of her hips.
Her scent is all over me now, marking me, claiming me as much as I claim her.
“Are you okay?” one of them asks.
I hear her whisper, “Yes.”
I look at her. She’s playing with her tits now, bra off. Dorian swallows. “I need to take your temperature,” he says.
Her eyes look up. I growl, stroking myself, mouth still on her. She moans softly as she rocks her pussy into my mouth.
The thermometer in Dorian’s hand doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.
“What are you doing?” Dorian’s voice cracks a little as he kneels.
“Touch me,” she says, voice a sing-song tease. “Somebody touch me.”
I curse, Jude hissing beside me.
I don’t care. My hands are on her hands, her hips, her thighs. I lift my head to watch her toy with her nipples, needy mewls escaping her.
“Baby, we passed by Miss Thea’s, and she has some things that could help,” Jude says.
“I know something that could help. Another orgasm,” she says. Her voice is all drowsy and sleepy and so fucking sexy.
I hear Dorian’s sharp intake of breath, and then we all watch as she slides her fingers down.
Jude growls.
She giggles, half-sleepy, half-mad as she locks eyes with Dorian. “Ryker smells like pine… Reminds me of your fucking knot. It makes me so wet. Here, feel how wet I am, Dorian.”
I groan. Holy shit, I can’t stop. She’s a mess beneath me. My Alpha claws at me to take, to claim.
Dorian swallows hard, then moves, kneeling by her, letting her use his hand to rub circles over her clit. Her fingers twist over herself.
“What… what are you doing?” he asks.
“Touch me,” she repeats, eyes rolling, lashes brushing her cheeks. “You. Me. Don’t fight it.”
I curse low, my cock pulsing. Jude hisses beside me. Her eyes catch mine. I tilt my head back to let her see I’ve lost it.
I climb on top of her, not caring that my precum is smearing over her stomach. I press my lips to hers.
She moans around my mouth. Dorian’s hand presses into her, and she gasps, rolling her hips.
“Again,” she whispers, dragging him into it. “I need to come again. Jude, touch my tits, please.”
Jude kneels at her other side, fingers teasing her nipples as he pinches and tugs at her. I can barely think, can barely breathe, can barely hold myself up as I let her bite my lip.
I try to swallow all her whimpers. Every inch of her wants us, and every inch of me wants her.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Mmmh!” is all she can respond with.
I turn to watch as the other two men succumb to her whims. She begged once, and we all turned into Jell-O for her.
Dorian leans closer, mouth ghosting over her thighs, biting gently, a sharp nip that makes her shiver. I watch, lost, completely trapped by her scent, by the sounds she makes, by the way she’s unraveling beneath us.
“Ryker…” She murmurs my name, but her eyes are on them, too. She bites her lip, fingers lifting to brush at her stomach.
I place mine over hers and smile. She has such little hands.
“She’s so hot,” Jude says, a tremor in his voice as he sucks one of her nipples into his mouth.
Her back arches off the bed, a gasp tearing from her throat that vibrates straight through me.
Her scent hits me harder now, thick and intoxicating, like wild honey mixed with something feral that claws at my insides, making my cock throb painfully against her thigh.
“More,” she slurs, her words thick and drowsy, eyes half-lidded as she reaches for me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me down toward her core. “Ryker... touch me there. Please.”
I don’t hesitate. My mouth waters at the sight of her, thighs spread wide, her pussy glistening and swollen from everything we’ve already done.
“My turn,” I tell Dorian.
He smiles and moves.
I slide down her body and bury my face between her legs. My tongue flattens against her clit, lapping in broad strokes that make her hips buck.
She tastes like sin, salty-sweet and addictive, her arousal coating my lips as I suck her into my mouth.
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them against that spot that makes her walls clench around me. She’s so wet, so ready, her body sucking me in deeper with every thrust.
My free hand wraps around my cock, stroking roughly from base to tip, the slick sound of my fist mixing with her moans. Precum beads at the head, and I pump faster, the pressure building low in my gut.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” I mutter against her folds, my breath hot on her skin. I nip at her inner thigh, not hard enough to mark but enough to make her whimper.
Jude releases her nipple with a pop, his eyes dark and fixed on us.
“She’s gonna break us,” he breathes, but his hand keeps working her other breast, rolling the peak between his fingers.
Dorian’s frozen for a second, his hand still between her legs from earlier, but now he’s shifting closer, drawn in like the rest of us.
Her scent wraps around him, too; I can see it in the way his nostrils flare, his pupils blown wide. She notices, her gaze locking on him even as her body trembles under my tongue.
“Dorian,” she slurs, voice a husky drawl that sends a jolt straight to my balls. “Come here. Wanna taste you. Please... your cock. I want it.”
He freezes, jaw clenching. “Are you sure?” His voice is rough, strained, like he’s fighting every instinct screaming at him to give in.
She nods, lazy and insistent, beckoning him with a crook of her finger. “Dreamed of this. You... all of you. Don’t stop me.”