Chapter 7 Lark
CHAPTER SEVEN
LARK
My head is whirring.
My vision is… is darkening.
And my lips are parted.
Because I have no idea what Lazarus Ferraro is talking about.
I understood his “rules.” Scoffed at his commentary about begging.
But now, I’m… I’m confused by his parting words.
Watch what? The thought echoes in my head, rivaling what I said aloud.
Naturally, he didn’t respond. And he didn’t close the door either.
I stalk forward, determined to slam it shut, mostly to punctuate the finality of the moment. However, I find myself grasping the wood instead and hanging on as Lazarus yanks Johan out of his chair with his grip around his throat.
What the fuck? Is he punishing him for…? My thought trails off as he pulls Johan into a kiss.
A wild, hungry, furious kiss. The kind only two alpha males can enjoy. Because it’s virile. Masculine. Violent.
Johan tries to shove him back, but Lazarus’s grip on his throat is unbreakable.
He’s squeezing.
Is he going to kill him? I wonder, my heart suddenly in my throat.
Lazarus is a cold-blooded murderer. A calculating mastermind. An intimidating masterpiece of exquisite art.
Okay, that last part is my assessment.
The other two descriptions are tied to his reputation. A reputation I seem to be witnessing in real time as he walks Johan backward into a nearby sofa and pushes him down.
He has my gun, I think. I… I never saw it again. What if he pulls it out and—
“Coffee?” Noah asks casually, joining me in the doorway with a cup of… of coffee.
I gape at him. “Are you crazy?”
He seems to consider my question for a moment before shrugging. “Crazy just feels… inadequate. I prefer psychotic.”
A growl rips through the cabin before I reply to that asinine comment, the source of it seeming to be Johan. “Fucking prick,” he snarls.
“You like it,” Lazarus replies, lying down on top of Johan. “Now shut up and take it.”
My eyes widen as Johan flips Lazarus off of him and onto the floor, the move impossibly fast and resulting in a snarl from the mafia don.
I grab the doorframe for support, worried that I may need to shove myself backward and lock myself in the bedroom. But all that happens next is Johan pinning Lazarus and kissing him much like he was kissed seconds ago.
It’s feral in nature. Borderline intoxicating.
I… I can’t stop watching.
Because they’re tearing at each other’s clothes now. Buttons fly. Fabric shreds. And groans fill the air. “I’ve always preferred exhibitionism over voyeurism, but watching your reaction right now is rather satisfying. You’re practically buzzing, little bee.”
I should reply.
No, I should stop watching.
But I can’t.
Muscles. So many muscles.
The alphas are ripped. Lazarus is all tan skin and defined lines. And Johan is all lean, athletic man. He’s still on top, kneeling now as he stares down at the other man.
They’re shirtless but still wearing shoes and pants.
Johan’s hand goes to his belt buckle to deftly unfasten it.
Lazarus watches with narrowed eyes. “You’re taking my knot first.”
“Am I?” Johan practically purrs back at him. “Because I’m the one on top, boss.”
Lazarus growls, his hand suddenly around Johan’s throat again as the pair of them grapple across the floor.
“He doesn’t like that title,” Noah whispers loudly. “Threatened to choke me with his knot earlier if I called him boss in front of you. Sadly, it was yet another false promise.”
He pushes into the bedroom, making me spin a little with him—because he’s too big to just slide around me.
Or maybe he wasn’t trying to.
He sets the coffee cup down on the nightstand, then plops onto the bed, making me frown. “What are you doing?”
“Having a nap,” he says, putting one arm over his eyes. “It’s either that or go jack myself off in the shower. Alas, I don’t think that’s going to help anything.” He peeks at me from beneath his elbow. “I would use Johan, but his mouth is about to be otherwise engaged.”
He adjusts his arm, bracketing his eyes once more, and sighs.
“I would love to share him,” he says, sounding sad. “But I don’t think he can handle me and Lazarus double-teaming him.”
A groan from the other room has me looking back at the dueling men.
Lazarus is on top again, only he’s spun around and he’s… he’s pulling out Johan’s…
Oh. My. God.
Johan’s dick is… massive.
I mean, most alphas are. Or, well, from what I’ve heard, they are. I’ve never actually taken a knot before.
But wow.
He’s long. Pale. And… and going into Lazarus’s mouth.
“Fuck,” Johan growls, grabbing the other man’s sides like he’s about to shove him away again. Except he clings to him instead. Then runs his palms down to Lazarus’s waist and around to the front.
Slick pours from my center as I watch him unfasten the don’s pants.
No boxers.
And if I thought Johan was large… I… That will never fit inside me. Or Johan, for that matter. Or anyone.
Except the alpha proves me wrong by opening his mouth around Lazarus’s head and taking him with practiced ease.
At least until the don punches his hips downward.
Johan grabs Lazarus’s ass, swatting at him. But that doesn’t stop the other man from starting to thrust.
God, he’s in his throat.
They’re both… they’re both… I can’t even… This is… madness.
It’s so savage, the way they’re forcing each other to take their cocks. Even Johan is pumping upward.
And all I can think is what they must look like inside a woman.
Inside me…
My thighs clench.
This is dangerous.
Their scent is everywhere. Intoxicating me. Drowning me. Tempting me.
Dark chocolate and cherries.
Leather, paper, and coffee beans.
Cinnamon and hot honey.
The last one is coming from behind me, but it’s mingling with the other two and creating an erotic ambience that has need scorching through me in a molten wave of intensity.
I’ve never experienced anything like this, not even during my heats.
The scent match.
The captivity.
Their vicious sounds.
The growls are reverberating around the room, overriding the hum of the jet. It’s almost as though they’ve unleashed a mating call.
And yeah, I guess they kind of have. Because they’re in the throes of passion, face-fucking each other with an abandon that has me longing to slip between them.
This is insanity. They’ve kidnapped me. They plan to punish me.
Although, Lazarus didn’t confirm how he intends to do that. Just told me it wouldn’t have anything to do with Widows Peak. He also claimed my family and friends would be safe. Except, that latter part seemed to be contingent on me behaving.
But then he said he wouldn’t touch me unless I begged.
So he’s not going to hurt me. Or force this match.
Just… just show me what I’m missing by fucking Johan’s mouth instead.
My nails dig into the doorframe, my legs shaking as I fight the urge not to go to my knees and crawl to them.
I am not this omega, I tell myself. I am not going to go let them stuff me with their knots just because they smell good.
Well, they look good, too.
Really fucking good.
They’re not even fully naked, their pants still on as they use each other for relief.
“Who do you think is going to come first?” Noah asks, suddenly right behind me, his breath warm against my ear.
I didn’t even hear him move.
He’s the deadliest of the trio. Yet I let him sneak up on me. And I’m not even afraid to have him near.
In fact, all I want to do is melt back into him and let his masculine strength soothe my raging desires.
Only that would probably stoke my need that much more.
“My money is on Johan,” Noah continues, his voice low as his warmth begins to bleed through my clothes and seep into my skin. “All Laz needs to do is use his tongue a little bit on the tip, and it’ll set tech boy genius off.” He chuckles. “At least, that’s all I need to do when I suck his cock.”
I swallow, imagining Noah now joining the mess of limbs on the floor.
“I’ve tried biting, too,” Noah murmurs. “He doesn’t fancy that as much. Seems pain isn’t his thing. Too bad, though. I’m a bit of a sadist at heart.”
Shocking, I think. I would utter that word out loud, but I don’t quite trust my voice right now.
“What about you, little bee?” His voice feels somehow closer now, his presence that much more imposing at my back. “How do you feel about a little sting with your pleasure? Maybe some teeth in your neck?” His lips ghost over my pulse—which is now thudding—as he speaks.
He hums, the vibration of it making me shiver.
“Mmm, I’ll take that blossoming fragrance between your slick thighs as a yes.” He exhales the words against my neck, nearly making me whimper. “What about your clit, pet? Can I nibble you there? Maybe your nipples as well?”
Oh God, I feel faint. Dizzy with desire. Warmth blossoms in my lower belly, spreading sensation to my nerve endings. It’s like I’m about to explode. Yet I’m not even being touched. I’m just watching and listening. And imagining…
His words have me nearly turning into him, to see what it would be like to feel his teeth in my flesh.
No, I tell myself. No. No. Fuck no. No!
A muffled snarl halts everything inside me, the bookstore-like fragrance suddenly overpowering everything else in the room as one of the men explodes.
Johan, I realize, his head seeming to thrash beneath Lazarus as the bigger man pins him with his cock down his throat.
He can’t breathe, I think, the snarl having been cut off mid-sound.
“Choke on it,” Lazarus demands, his hand around Johan’s knot as he strokes the other man to completion.
Johan has a lethal grip on Lazarus’s hips, his arms bulging with masculine fury as his cock unleashes ropes of cum.
Into a shirt, I suddenly understand. What…?
I don’t even want to know.
Yet I can’t stop watching Lazarus squeeze the other alpha’s dick. His movements are rough. Cruel, even. Yanking up and down while twisting Johan’s knot.
It looks like it hurts.
Only, Johan is still coming. So it must not be that painful?
Lazarus lifts, and a wheeze comes from Johan, only to be cut off again as the don punches his hips back down. “Don’t swallow,” he demands, fucking Johan in earnest now. “I want that cum.”
Noah huffs a laugh. “Good luck with that. Looks like tech boy genius is going to asphyxiate on Laz’s load. Ah, well, worse ways to die.”
His heat leaves my back, suggesting he’s returned to the bed. But I don’t hear him. Nor do I check to see where he is. I’m too busy watching Lazarus unleash his brutality on Johan.
I shouldn’t be turned on by this. I should be appalled. And I certainly shouldn’t wish I were Johan right now.
Yet I do.
I’m absolutely fantasizing about being beneath Lazarus as he destroys me in every way imaginable.
I’m broken. Messed up. Utterly insane.
This… this is going to feature in my dreams going forward. Every night. And I’ll never be able to stop it.
That knowledge is only solidified as Lazarus looks right at me, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity as he growls my name. “Aurora.”
And then he stops moving.
For a moment, I hold my breath, wondering if he’s about to come get me. But his snarl shatters that expectation as his body begins to convulse.
He’s coming.
Johan’s hands move, one going to Lazarus’s knot, like he’s trying to prevent the alpha from lodging it deep in his throat.
Can that even happen? I wonder dizzily. Wouldn’t he die?
Except now I’m wondering if I could handle something like that during a heat.
Definitely broken, I think, echoing my thought from seconds ago.
Johan slams one palm against Lazarus’s back, resulting in a snarl from the man on top, but he rolls off of him in a pant of sound, his hand reaching down to take over the motions against his cock.
I swallow as Lazarus meets my gaze again, his hand moving as strands of ecstasy leave his massive head. I have no idea how Johan took that into his mouth. There is no way I am going to ever be able to do that.
Nor will I ever be able to handle that much cum.
Because he’s still going, making a mess of his stomach as he unleashes his pleasure.
All while staring me down.
With a hunger that has my thighs quivering.
Johan grabs the shirt from him and spits into it, the liquid abundant and fragrant. Alpha seed.
It’s everywhere in the cabin now.
Highlighted by their scents.
Driving my inner omega mad.
I’m mere weeks away from my next heat. But if they continue this, I’m going to end up falling into my estrus faster than expected.
By the time Lazarus is finished coming, I’m no longer caring about the mess between my own thighs.
He knows what he’s doing.
Johan, too.
They’re torturing me. Overwhelming me with their natural colognes. Seducing me with their growls.
And now looking at me with feral intent in their gazes.
However, only Lazarus is daring enough to move. He tucks his massive dick into his pants, but doesn’t bother to zip himself up more than halfway, and stands to walk toward me.
Every part of me screams with a need to retreat, to slam the door and hide.
Yet my legs refuse to move. And my core simply weeps with expectation.
What’s he going to do to me? I wonder as he prowls forward.
But he stops a foot away, then uses a shirt—the same one Johan saturated with his orgasm, the same one he also spit into—to wipe up the mess on his abdomen.
My mouth salivates over it, my inner omega longing for a taste.
Only for him to drop the shirt at my feet. “In case you want that for a future nest,” he tells me. Then turns and walks away while saying, “Sweet dreams, Aurora.”