42. Kallis
Kallis
“What are you thinking?” I hiss, but he disarms me again with a hard thrust.
I bite my lip to stifle the sound, but I lose my footing in the process.
It must have been the weakest defense in the Bears’ history, as my face lands squarely between Orso’s pecs. I’m drenched in sweet clover as a high whine pours from me, desperately gripping Orso as he strokes my inner walls.
I choke at his potency as I knock my head back to meet his gaze. It’s a storm I want to be lost in.
I expect him to look triumphant, but his expression is so filled with lust that I shut my eyes. A second longer, and I would have come from his hungry stare alone.
“I don’t keep secrets from my mates. They are sharing this with me.” Orso’s lips press to my ear, nuzzling me gently, but his stiff words show his discomfort. I instantly assume it’s because of me.
“Kallis, are you there?” Mathan’s voice curls out from the phone. His soft tone is enough to make me quiver.
“I guess Mathan’s the one you want then, seeing how your pussy just reacted to him,” Orso punctuates his words with another thrust, and I cry even louder.
“I want all of you, you idiot,” I growl.
“Keep telling him off, Bee. I love it when you’re annoyed,” Artie chuckles.
“That’s not a good thing,” I groan, as Orso twists his fingers. I’m close to asking him to tear away my underwear, except there’s a high chance he will drop them to the floor beside us, thereby disrupting my nest further.
But such thoughts are wiped away as his thumb presses against my clit, pleasure zinging through me like an electric shock.
“Come to Kallis’s office when you’re back,” Orso says to them. “But don’t hang up until you’re here.”
He places the phone on the bed to his right, all of his attention back on me. “Now, since you like my mates so much, you’re going to tell them exactly what I’m doing to you. And you better be descriptive.”
He nips my ear, and instead of concern, more pleasure hums through me.
He expects me to speak. Except the issue with that is that he kisses me again, casually adding two more fingers as if my pussy will magically stretch to accommodate the width. But it does.
Before I can even respond with a cry, he’s pushed my ass against the bed, cupping my breast through my tight shirt as he continues to devour me.
Everything is lost in a wave of clover and honey as I perfume again.
Orso’s groan is louder than mine, and he twists his wrist, grinding his fingers deep, widening me in a way so different from Mathan and Artie. His thrusts are fierce, and his kisses are frenzied attacks, but it helps soothe my preheat cramps.
I can’t resist anything so powerful. The more we pour ourselves into it, the whisper of a bond becomes a call.
I gasp for air as he pulls back, his lips red, panting as rapidly as I do, as I glare at him.
“How am I supposed to tell your mates what you’re doing to me when you have your tongue down my throat?” I ask.
But that’s the least of his concerns.
“You know this position, don’t you? Go on, describe it,” Orso says, making sure my ass is next to the phone.
Pleasure flushes through me as Orso tugs at my waistband.
I shuffle further back onto the bed, the cheap plastic covering sticking to my ass.
He leaves me with my pants around my knees, looking at me expectantly as he removes his own, leaving his boxers on like a tease.
But I stay motionless. He started the phone call, so he can take responsibility and remove mine.
Plus, I’m wholly focused on the stretch of his body as he kicks his pants under the bed and bends to one knee in front of me.
The force that he has when he soars across the ice captivates me. And he wears that same confident expression as he nudges my legs open and looks up at me. It’s like he knows he’s already won.
“I’m seated against the bed that Artie first gave me cunnilingus on, though I’m less aroused due to the lack of alphas in the room, so—”
“Kallis,” Orso growls a warning, sending shivers through me.
“What?” I tilt my head. “You asked me to describe it.” And being as factual as possible makes it easier to communicate, especially when it irritates him.
Each time he says my name, he makes a point, reminding me I can’t hide behind my role as Dr. Tully. And that’s what I fear the most. I don’t want to break free of that and become someone I don’t recognize, though that process started the moment I met them.
“He’s removing my pants from my ankles, though it appears he thinks he can pull them over my sneakers. Orso, I suggest—”
Orso cuts me off. “Make it sexy,” he demands with a glare.
Artie chuckles away as Orso sheds them, along with his own shirt, and adds them to the growing pile under the bed. Thankfully, I don’t stress about their place in my nest when I can’t see them.
“When have you ever heard me speak sexily?” I ask.
“You were doing it just fine with Mathan and Artie.”
I can’t recall anything I said that sounded particularly attractive at that time. They might have said it was sexy, but that didn’t mean it actually was. I suspect they are more forgiving of my lifeless tone because my pussy seems to capture them in a horny hypnotic trance.
Besides, I’m more interested in the way Orso is put out that I’m not responding to him the same way I did with them.
“He’s discarded the clothes from the lower half, though my panties are still in place.”
“And you’re keeping that fucking doctor’s jacket and teddy sweater on, as well.”
I can’t understand why a team sweater arouses him, but it’s not time to question it when his lips meet my calf.
My breath catches at the hard press against my muscle with a pained look of concentration that makes me want to bring him closer.
“He’s running his lips up my gastrocnemius while holding my lower phalanges. He’s just reached my patella and is choosing to lick the semimembranosus, though I don’t see the appeal. It seems as though—”
“Kallis.” He nips the soft part of my knee. Every time he growls or glares or even just looks frustrated, little thrills spiral through me. That desire to keep pushing him springs up again, and I wonder how much he will let me get away with.
Is this how Artie feels whenever he teases his mates? Because it’s definitely fun.
“If you don’t describe it properly, I won’t touch your pussy again.”
“And that would truly be a tragedy,” I say, though it obviously comes out so flatly that I’m sure he assumes I’m being sarcastic. It’s only when I’m not trying that I can actually be funny, and in the worst moments possible.
“Come on, then. Since you want to be as clinical as possible, tell Mathan and Artie how it feels to not have me stroking your pussy while you’re in preheat.”
There’s a strangled noise from the other end of the phone. “You’re in preheat?” Artie yells.
“So why haven’t you done anything about it?” I ask as he shuffles closer. “Your fingers weren’t exactly eager.” Which isn’t the whole truth; it was more that his kisses were so passionate that we lost all sense of control.
“It was an awkward position,” he growls. “I had to battle with your fucking panties.”
“Mathan, Artie, your pack leader seems to have an aversion to my pussy. He insists on running his lips over my thighs, but he hasn’t feasted like you.
I’ll have to file a complaint.” I sigh dramatically.
“He’s already had his fingers inside me, and it’s building so much that someone is going to need to take care of it, yet he’s not interested in the same way you both were. ”
Orso’s snarl is like a prize as he suddenly grabs my panties and rips them apart so fiercely that I instantly perfume.
“You’re so fucking impatient,” he snaps.
“Am I the impatient one?” I ask, opening my legs just enough that the thick scent of my slick wafts between us. “Or is it that you’ve been craving my honey for so long that you can’t handle it?”
Orso sucks in a breath, and there’s another strangled noise from the phone.
“Bee, you have to keep talking, oh my God,” Artie gasps. “I can’t believe I chattered so much last time when we could have heard you dropping bangers like that. Mathan, put your foot down. We need the speed.”
“You really don’t get what a menace you are,” Orso growls as his hands dig into my thighs. All I see is his harsh smirk before he tips forward, and he buries his face in my pussy.
My cry echoes around the room, and I barely catch my breath as he licks me. Unlike Artie’s passionate strokes, he’s so fast that I’m sailing toward an orgasm as his tongue flicks and he licks my clit like he’s possessing me.
His thumb slips inside my pussy, and I arch my back, my palms flat on the bed as a low moan falls from me.
“You’ve got one more chance,” Orso says. He looks like he’s struggling as much as I am as he pulls away.
His lips instantly return to my pussy, teasing and licking while he thrusts, making it difficult to get the words out.
“His thumb is inside me, and I’m rocking my hips and—ah!” I gasp as Orso sucks my clit just a touch too hard.
“Tell us how it feels, Kallis,” Mathan asks through the phone. “I want to hear you moan.”
I meet Orso’s gaze from between my legs, his nose hidden by short dark blonde hair, my heart pounding in my ears as nervousness rises again.
“I-it’s good,” I say, covering my mouth as if I can hide my blush along with my words. “He’s… Orso… His tongue is stroking my clit and I…” I trail off into a whimper.
“Where’s it good, Kallis? Where do you like it the most?” Has Orso ever purred like that? Though he still looks pained, passion fills his voice as he asks questions, and his movements soften.
“My clit,” I reply breathlessly. “Each time you lick me, it’s so hot, I feel like I’m going to come. I want your tongue inside me, Orso, but I—” I cry out as he thrusts his thumb, combined with a hard flick that has tingles of pleasure scattering through me. “Orso… I don’t want you to stop.”
His moans grow louder as he speeds up. There’s no way to hold myself back when he looks so sexy buried between my legs.
“Orso, I can’t… Please…”
“Keep talking,” he says, muffled as he keeps himself pressed against me. “Keep calling for me.”
“I’m spreading my legs. I want you deeper, Orso. Give me more.”
“What do you want more of?” he asks, and his smile is so wicked that perfume spills from me. No matter how many suppressants I take, they can’t compete against my omega side responding to my scent match.
My gaze dips past my thighs, through the gap between my pussy and Orso’s mouth, to the obvious bulge in his boxers that has been present since we first kissed.
“Say it. Tell Mathan and Artie what you said to me earlier.”
Body trembling, my chest tightens as my voice goes numb. “I want you to fuck me,” I rasp.
He rises, his expression dark as his thumbs slip under the waistband of his boxers, and I watch with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as he inches them down like a promise.
“Again,” he orders as a brush of brown hair appears. “Louder.”
My throat goes dry as he pushes them over his hips, revealing himself to me.
I’m fixed on his cock, heartbeat rising, my perfume flaring as desire rushes through my body, and my suppressants become useless.
“Fuck me, Orso,” I say huskily, my fingers wrap around the edge of the bed like I already know it’s coming.
A growl tears from him as he shoots forward, his eyes wild.
“Give me your leg,” he demands as he already grabs one, lining his cock up faster than I can breathe.
“Orso, are you—” But my words change to a sharp shout as pleasure tears through me, and Orso thrusts home.