3. Lark #2
“Beg for it, slut. Tell me how badly you need my knot, how empty your pussy feels without me stretching you open,” he said as Emile pumped his fingers in and out of me.
Never.
Conor’s fingers joined Emile’s, the two of them playing with me, stretching me, out of sync with one another. They kissed my skin, driving me higher and higher with need until I couldn’t bear it anymore. Why was I resisting them?
“Conor,” I murmured, and blue eyes smiled up at me as he nibbled at my breasts.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Fucking, please.”
His smile lit up the goddess damned room.
“Please what, my darling murderous slut?”
“Please, I need you,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face as I sacrificed my pride to my arousal.
Conor chuckled. “Are you sure, baby?”
“Alpha, please!”
He drew my lips into a hard kiss, then released my hands. Fingers left my pussy to release my feet, and I fell into Conor’s chest, inhaling his sweet scent as he swept me into his arms, then placed me on the floor on my hands and knees. I swayed weakly as he arranged my limbs to his satisfaction.
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you. Emile’s gonna take your mouth, all right?”
No, it wasn’t all right.
But the other alpha knelt before me anyway, his legs spread, thick thighs tensed, his cock teasing at my lips, tasting of salt and a fresh ocean breeze.
“Open,” Conor said. When I shook my head, dizzy from lust and confusion and so much need, he leaned over me, covering me with his hard torso, and took a nipple between his fingers.
He pinched hard, drawing it down until I bowed my back to try to escape the pain.
When I cried out in shock, Emile shoved his cock down my throat at the same time Conor released my breast.
I gagged, coughing and unable to breathe, even as my lips wrapped around Emile, reveling in his salty, musky, scent. So fucking delicious.
Conor plunged into me, all at once, and I screamed around Emile’s cock as the two men stretched me beyond sanity, until my omega body adjusted, relaxing, loosening, then clenching around Conor, his knot teasing at my opening, but never entering me.
Filled from both ends, I was overwhelmed by their scents, by the sensations of their cocks rocking through me, by the complete and utter lack of control over my body—but not my mind.
My eyes widened. Why could I think? Why weren’t my instincts rising and taking over my brain, making it impossible for me to refuse these two alphas?
I couldn’t think anymore as Conor and Emile embraced above me, and Emile shoved himself down my throat with rhythmic movements, and Conor filled me with each stroke.
I whined around Emile’s cock, my tongue lapping desperately at him as he pressed so deep into me his knot brushed against my lips. Pressure grew in my core as they worked me over, every sensation narrowing until I was wound tight and ready to explode.
“That’s it, baby, our beautiful, violent omega, taking both your alphas like you were made for this—for us,” Conor said.
“So gorgeous, so needy,” Emile continued.
“So perfect.”
Fingers reached between my thighs as they rearranged my insides, taking their pleasure from me with slow and steady strokes that left no room for thought, no room for anything but the tightening pressure in my core.
Pain flickered up from my clit, a sharp agony that transformed as I exploded, my vision fading to black around the edges as bliss rocketed through me.
Euphoria wiped out my capacity to think, obliterating my worries as my limbs seized and shook, senseless as I struggled to keep upright, trembling with the aftershocks of the most powerful climax of my life.
“That’s it, baby,” Conor cooed. “Clench your pussy around me so hard, milk my cock like the filthy omega you are. You’re so greedy for it—your body knows who it belongs to.” He thrust into me, hard, and painted my insides with his cum. More, more, I wanted more. I wanted his knot.
No.
But I did want his cock.
I whined as Emile pulled out.
“Little one, are you begging for me to bruise your throat?” he asked, amused.
I stretched languorously, easing the tight muscles in my shoulders, shoving my ass backwards toward Conor, who was still buried inside of me, sensibility returning to me as the aftershocks of my orgasm ebbed. “No.”
But I meant yes.
And he knew it.
I opened my lips and took his cock between them, lapping up his musky, salty taste and moaning at the sensation of his velvet skin against my tongue.
“One more for me, little one,” Emile said. No, I couldn’t, I couldn’t possibly.
But fingers played with my clit and teased at my nipples, while Emile fucked my throat. I detonated again as he spilled his cum down my throat, praising me all the way.
When I would have dropped to the floor, the alphas picked me up, settling me onto the soft bed, delicious lassitude stealing over me like a warm blanket.
They settled me in between them, stroking me with rough fingers, softly praising me, telling me how fucking perfect I was, how goddess damned well I’d taken them.
Conor’s hands mapped my body like he could possess me through touch alone—greedy and obsessive. Emile traced deliberate patterns on my hip, maddeningly slow, like he had all the time in the world and knew exactly how each touch unraveled me a little bit more.
“What was that?” I whispered, hating how their soft touches and praise soothed me.
Conor pushed closer. “Fuckin’, sweet murderer. What do you think it was?”
I couldn’t stop the huff of laughter that escaped me. “No kidding.”
I curled up inward on myself, ashamed of the different type of need spilling out of me. “Could you please—? I need—”
I needed to cuddle. I couldn’t blame it on my omega instincts—somehow these men had suppressed them. No, I needed these two duplicitous, absurd men to surround me with their bodies and reassure me that I was worth more to them than just my tight omega pussy.
Fuck. My emotionally stunted serial killer ass needed aftercare from my kidnappers. If my past self could see me now, she'd be so disappointed. Then again, past me also thought she could take on two alpha serial killers, so maybe her judgment wasn't that great either.
“Yeah, little one, of course,” Emile murmured. “But if you run, we’ll catch you.”
Maybe it was the haze of my arousal, but right now, that didn’t seem quite so bad.
He and Conor ran their fingers over my body, covered with marks and bruises, as if inspecting me for lasting damage, then Conor swung out of the bed.
My mewl of consternation caught his attention, and he bent down to kiss my temple.
“I’ll be back in a moment with snacks and water, baby.”
“How did you do that?” I whispered.
“Do what, little one?” Emile hauled me against him, tucking my face into his chest and dragging my thigh to drape over his.
“Two alphas fucking an omega without driving me into a senseless haze.”
Conor sat on the bed beside me and handed me a bottle of water. “Baby, we’ve been tracking you for two years. You can’t possibly think we’d let you pretend this is just biology.”
I scooted up against the headboard and let him feed me orange slices as I came down from my post-orgasmic bliss.
“You drugged me so I … wouldn’t fuck you?”
Emile’s laughter burst out in the quiet. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. You fucked us well and good. And I’ll use your hormones against you if it’s the only option.” He dragged his index down my arm and tangled his fingers in mine. “I don’t think it is, though.”