Chapter 14
Fourteen
LIANA
Cole’s cock finally slips out of my pussy with a soft, wet sound that makes my cheeks burn even though we’ve just done things that should have burned away every last shred of modesty I own.
The water around us has gone lukewarm, cooling my overheated skin, but the ache in my belly is already building again, low and hollow.
His cum leaks out of me, clouding the water between my thighs, and I immediately feel empty without his knot.
My pussy is clenching on nothing.
It’s always hungry and throbbing, slick still seeping from me in slow, warm pulses. Thirty minutes in this tub, locked on his knot, and already my body wants more. The heat doesn’t give a shit about me being tired.
Cole’s arms are still around me, his chest pressed warm against my back, his heartbeat steady against my spine. His hand finds my wet hair, fingers combing through the strands with a gentleness that makes my throat tight.
“I can feel your heat building again,” he says, his palm sliding down from my hair, over my shoulder, and settling low on my belly where the cramp is already turning from dull to sharp. “Right here, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His hand is warm and heavy, and for a moment the pressure of it eases the ache. But it’s temporary. I know what’s coming. The heat doesn’t stop. It cycles, builds, peaks, crashes, and builds again until it’s run its course or until an alpha’s knot plugs me full of cum and stretches me.
Cole’s finger dips between my thighs under the water. I let out a hiss.
“Sore?”
“A little,” I admit. His cock is thick, and my pussy has been stretched around three knots in the span of a few hours. Everything down there is swollen, tender, hypersensitive.
“I’m going to get you cleaned up before dinner.” His finger is gentle, probing, washing the slick and cum from my folds with the same methodical care he gives everything. “Why don’t you stand up for me?”
“Okay,” I say, and push myself upright in the tub.
Water sloshes over the marble edge. My legs are trembling, my thighs slick with a mixture of bathwater and my own wetness. I stand there naked, water streaming down my body.
Cole reaches for the shelf beside the tub. His hand closes around a razor and a small bottle of oil I hadn’t noticed before.
My stomach drops.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out smaller than I mean it to.
He pours oil into his palm, rubs his hands together to warm it, and then his palms are on my pubic mound, spreading the oil through my curls with slow, deliberate strokes. The slick between my thighs gets thicker instantly, my body responding to his touch.
“Shaving you, honey.”
“I can do that myself,” I say, but my voice wavers.
“You’ll always be cozy here with me, Liana.” His slate-blue eyes find mine, steady and certain. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry one bit while you’re in heat. Not about anything.”
My cheeks are burning.
“Okay,” I whisper. Nobody has ever done this for me. Shaved me. Taken care of me this way.
Magnus and his pack treated my body like territory to be claimed, not something to be tended to. The oil is warm on my skin, his fingers working it through my hair, and my pussy clenches hard, empty and wanting, slick running down my inner thigh in a warm rivulet.
Cole kneels in the tub in front of me. The water laps at his hips, his cock half-hard again already, resting against his thigh. He takes the razor in his right hand, his left settling on my hip to steady me.
“Spread your legs wider for me,” he says. “So I can reach properly.”
“Oh,” I say as I spread my feet apart, and the cool air hits my wet pussy, making my clit twitch. Cole’s eyes drop there for a second, darkening, before he looks back up at my face.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and starts on my left calf. The razor moves in long, careful strokes up my leg. He works slowly, methodically as he shaves my leg. “You’re so pretty. Every fucking inch of you, Liana. So goddamn pretty.”
The praise washes over me like warm honey. My slick builds, thickens, and I can feel it dripping down my thigh in earnest now, leaving a glossy trail on my skin that Cole tracks with his eyes.
“Oh god, you’re getting me horny again,” I whisper.
“I can see,” he chuckles, the sound deep in his chest. “Making a mess for me already.”
His head dips between my legs and towards my pussy. His mouth suddenly clamps over my pussy, sucking hard on my entrance.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, my knees buckling. “You’re teasing me!”
“Patience,” he says against my thigh, his breath hot on my skin. “I’m almost done.”
He works his way up my inner thigh, the razor gliding over the soft skin there, his thumb pressing gently to keep the skin taut. My slick is everywhere now—running down both thighs, dripping onto the water, my pussy throbbing and hungry and so wet I can hear it when I shift my weight.
When he reaches my mound, he oils me there again, his thumb working the oil through my curls with slow, circular motions. The razor follows, each stroke careful and deliberate, his thumb pulling the skin taut around my clit, working with a precision that makes my breath catch.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, setting the razor aside for a moment. His fingertips trace over the freshly shaved skin of my mound, slow and reverent. “So smooth. So fucking perfect, Liana. You’re such a good girl for letting me do this.”
“Thank you,” I moan as my pussy clenches hard. “I like being your good girl.” I’m shaking and can barely stand as I grip his shoulders for support.
“Turn around,” Cole says. “Bend over. Hold onto the edge.”
My ass is exposed completely to him as I bend over.
Cole’s hands find my ass cheeks and spread them wide.
“Pretty little asshole,” he says, his voice gone dark and rough. “So pink. So tight. I’m going to take such good care of you here too, baby. One day I’m going to claim you right here, when you’re ready.”
His oiled fingers massage between my cheeks, working the oil into the soft skin there, and I shiver, my asshole clenching at his touch.
The razor follows, each stroke slow and careful, and his finger never stops rubbing slow, wet circles around my tight pucker, sometimes pressing gently against the rim but not going inside.
I’m gasping. Trembling.
Slick drips down my thighs with every stroke of the razor so near my asshole. I can feel slick seeping from my anus as well as my pussy, an embarrassing superpower that we omegas can do so that anal knotting doesn’t hurt.
His thumb teases my asshole the entire time.
“You have the prettiest little hole I’ve ever seen,” he growls. “Can’t wait to claim you there. Stretch you open. Make you take my cock in this tight ass while someone else fucks your pussy.”
“Oh,” I whine, high and desperate, and push back against his finger. My asshole clenches around nothing, hungry and empty, and Cole laughs softly against the curve of my ass. “Are you done yet?”
“Not yet, baby. I’m still working.”
His other hand drifts down from my ass cheek, between my thighs from behind, and his fingers find my pussy. He spreads my labia open with two fingers, exposing my swollen pink folds to the cool air, and I gasp.
He plays with my pussy lips between his fingers while he continues to shave my ass.
Pinching gently. Rolling my clit. Pulling my pussy lips lightly, spreading me wider, and every touch sends electric shocks through my overheated body.
My slick is dripping from my pussy in warm rivulets, and Cole’s fingers are slick with it, working my lips, teasing my entrance.
“Your pussy is the most beautiful thing ever,” he whispers. Then he suddenly leans down and presses one big, wet kiss directly to my asshole.
I come undone. I never expected him to kiss my asshole while playing with my pussy.
My knees nearly give out.
I’m trembling, wet, a mess of slick and empty hunger. Cole sets the razor aside with a soft clink against the marble.
He wipes me clean with a cloth everywhere.
He wipes me between my thighs, around my ass, over my freshly shaved pussy, and then pours warm water over me from a pitcher, rinsing the oil away.
The water runs clear between my legs, and I’m still shaking, still dripping slick, my pussy throbbing and clenching.
Cole turns me gently to face him. Both his palms find my freshly shaved mound, his fingertips tracing slow, reverent paths over the smooth skin, between my thighs, just feeling me.
“Perfect,” he says, his eyes dark and hungry on mine. “You’re perfect, Liana.”
I am shaking. Barely standing. Slick is still trickling down my inner thigh in a warm, steady stream, and my pussy is pulsing, empty, desperate for a cock, for a knot, for anything to fill the hollow ache inside me.
But Cole doesn’t take me.
“You need food first,” he says, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “I’m not going to let you get weak between knots. You need strength.”
He helps me step out of the tub, water sluicing off my body, and wraps me in an enormous heated towel. It’s soft, plush, enveloping me in warmth, and he presses kisses to my shoulders as he dries me off.
He sits me on the marble bench beside the tub and takes another towel to my hair, drying it carefully, squeezing the water with his gentle hands. His fingers comb through the tangles, working them loose with a patience that makes my chest ache.
“Are you tired?” I ask, my voice small.
He looks at me, and something soft moves behind his slate-blue eyes. “I’m never tired of taking care of my omega.”
His omega.
Warmth floods my chest, fuzzy and golden, and for a second I let myself believe that I could be his, that he could be mine, that the four of them could want me and keep me and never hurt me.
But the fear is still there, curled tight under my ribs. Six years of running. Trust doesn’t come easy. Not for me.
Cole pulls a small jar of unscented lotion from the cabinet and warms it between his palms. Then his hands are on my shoulders first, working the lotion into the tense muscles there, his thumbs finding the knots and easing them loose as the towel falls open.
My arms next, each one, his fingers tracing the scars on my forearm with a tenderness that makes my throat tight.
He kneels in front of me on the marble floor, spreading my thighs apart with firm hands, and works the lotion into my calves, my ankles, the arches of my feet.
“I always want your legs open,” he says, his eyes fixed on my pussy where it’s visible between my spread thighs. “At all times. So I can monitor your heat.”
My cheeks burn. “I’ll just tell you when I’m in pain.”
“I know you will.” His eyes don’t leave my pussy. He’s mesmerized, his cock hard and thick against his stomach, pre-cum beading at the tip. “But I love looking at you, Liana. I could look at you forever.”
His palm spreads lotion over my freshly shaved mound, his fingers working it into the soft skin there, and then his head dips.
His tongue finds my clit, hard and flat, wiggling directly on the swollen nub, and I gasp, my hands flying to the edge of the bench, gripping hard.
He purrs.
The vibration rolls through his chest and into his tongue, and my clit is suddenly vibrating against the wet, hot flat of his tongue, and I’m panting, moaning, my back arching off the bench.
“Oh god,” I whimper. “Cole, please—”
My hands find his hair, gripping the dark strands, holding him against me as his tongue spears into my pussy hole, stretching me open, fucking me with his tongue while his purr vibrates against my clit.
He’s looking directly at me.
His slate-blue eyes locked on mine while his tongue fucks my pussy, and the eye contact sends me over the edge so fast I don’t have time to prepare.
I come with a scream, slick spurting from my pussy in a warm rush, splashing against Cole’s chin, his chest, and I try to pull away, mortified.
“I don’t want to get you dirty—“
But he suctions his lips harder around my pussy, holding my thighs open with his hands, his tongue still working inside me, and I can’t pull away. I squirt directly into his mouth, my pussy pulsing, clenching around his tongue, my thighs shaking so hard the bench creaks beneath me.
“Oh god, Cole, oh my god,” I sob, my orgasm ripping through me in wave after wave, my slick gushing into his mouth, and Cole sucks slower as the waves begin to fade, milking every last drop from me until I’m panting, whimpering, my body gone boneless on the bench.
He releases my pussy with a wet sound and licks his lips, his chin glistening with my slick.
“Your slick is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted,” he says, his voice rough with want.
Then he’s kissing me, his mouth on mine, his tongue pushing past my lips, and I taste myself—sweet and roses and something musky. My hand finds his chest, palm flat against the warm, solid muscle, and his fingers curl into my hair, holding me there while he kisses me like he’s starving.
When he breaks the kiss, I’m breathing hard, my lips swollen, my eyes half-lidded and dazed.
Cole stands and goes to the closet attached to the master suite. He returns with a bathrobe—deep emerald silk, soft, and very expensive. Brand new. Tags still on the sleeve.
“It’s a beautiful robe,” I say, my voice still throaty from screaming.
“You’ll wear it tonight for dinner,” he says, and helps me into it.
The silk slides over my skin like water, cool and weightless. Cole ties the sash gently around my waist, his fingers lingering at the knot. He fixes the collar so it sits properly against my throat, his thumb brushing the pulse point there, and his eyes darken.
“My brothers are going to lose their minds when you walk into dinner. I can’t wait to watch them rut you.”
My pussy throbs, empty and hungry, slick already soaking through the silk between my thighs, and for the first time in six years, the thought of four alphas wanting me doesn’t make me want to run.
It makes me want to stay.