2. Oran
T he gasp of shock tearing from our precious princess’ throat has my cock aching with the need to rut her until she’s a weeping, boneless mess. I don’t know what spell this beauty has placed upon me, but I’m near-feral whenever she’s around.
When I first detected a wisp of the princess’ scent upon entering the study, I set my plan in motion to goad the prince. I had no real motives other than having Ivy learn of Cillian’s—and my own—infatuation with her. At least then she could decide whether she wished to accept such admissions. But I didn’t intend for it to go this far—not so quickly, anyway.
I would usually never dare to be so brazen, but this woman does wicked things to my mind. Perhaps I want a turn to drive her just as mad as she’s made me—even if it’s only for one evening.
Cillian thinks we need to wait. He’s had me making a fool of myself for weeks, helping to keep her at arm’s length. But all I’ve wanted to do since I first laid eyes upon her was get her alone and well acquainted with my knot.
I’m greedy that way, but who could blame me? She’s stunning, my Ivy, with eyes as blue and deep as the sea. Her body is a delectable wonderland of soft curves; her lips the plushest, most inviting source of temptation I’ve ever beheld.
And her scent? Her scent drives me just as mad as the rest of her. Tart, baked apples drenched in the decadence of cinnamon, honey, and custard. I can practically taste how she would melt on my tongue, even now.
She is my omega . Of that, I’m certain. No other explanation stands for why her perfume is so vivid, so distinct to both me and the prince. She may not be able to recognize what we have yet, but her scent tells me all I need to know.
Seated on the other side of my deliciously pink and panting princess, Cillian and the fire in his eyes threaten to strike me dead. But I don’t give a shite anymore. I’ve been a very good boy this past month, and I would be a fool not to act when she’s practically begging for us both.
Cillian is wrong—Ivy is ready . Why else would she be sitting between us wearing nothing more than her slip of a nightgown? Any proper omega would have covered herself or fled by now.
But our woman isn’t as proper as one would believe, no. Her nipples have pebbled so beautifully at my improper question. Ivy is aching just thinking of my tongue in her cunt, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give this woman everything she desires from now until the end of time.
“Well, have you, love?” I press, needing to hear the words from her pretty lips. “Or were you saving that for our prince here?”
“ Oran ,” Cillian growls, desperate to end this, but I’m undeterred.
Ivy squirms beside me, whimpering and pressing those soft thighs together—trying to soothe the ache brought on by my words.
Without another thought, my hands are there, touching the soft skin above her knees and pushing her legs apart. I can’t have her getting excited too quickly now. The thrill is in the anticipation, after all.
Our princess looks at me with eyes wide and pleading, just the way I love. Her chest heaves at my touch on her body, and I would sooner die than separate from her.
It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, she and I. But she’s yet to ask me to stop. Cillian can be mad all he wants. This woman, this omega, craves us. He’ll forgive me once he watches our mate come so beautifully on my tongue.
“Tell him,” I insist, knowing she needs permission to truly let go. “Tell your alpha how you’ve waited to give him every part of you. And tell him he’s a fool for leaving me the chance to have you first.”
I lower myself from the settee onto my knees so I can show her what she could mean to me. If she would let me, I would live at her feet and bow to her every whim. “Don’t you see? We are yours to command, Princess. Say the word and we will serve you on our knees, if you so desire.”
Cillian’s widening eyes and Ivy’s continued whimpering set my blood boiling. Soon, they will see it’s useless to deny what’s forming between us all. Fate intended for us to be together; what’s the point of fighting it?
She needs only to ask, and she could have me—have us both—now, forever. Why wait a year for her omega senses to develop? We should take her and keep her for the rest of our days.
Ivy turns her pleading gaze from me to Cillian, saying with her eyes what she daren’t speak aloud. She has waited for him. She’s waited to give her alpha everything. It’s a shame I’m not willing to let him have her.
Not without staking my claim alongside his.
“You’ll let me taste you here, won’t you, love? You’ll let me tongue your pretty cunt while the prince kisses your lips.”
I have no need to question; she won’t deny me what’s mine. She’s wet, wanting, and ready for us. If Cillian had pulled his head from his arse, he’d have realized we could have had her for the last month rather than being frightened to put a toe out of line. Precious time with our omega wasted for no good reason, time I intend on making up for tonight.
Beneath my fingertips, Ivy’s legs tremble. The sheer anticipation of my mouth between her legs has her ready to come right out of her skin. But I plan to keep her right here, straddling the edge of need and desperation until I’m prepared to let her fall into bliss. I see no purpose in rushing a thing as beautiful—as sacred—as pleasing my omega for the first time.
Ivy has yet to answer, but the heaving of her beautiful breasts and the subtle way she spreads her legs further apart gives me the reassurance I need to proceed.
I dip my head, dotting kisses along the bared skin of her inner thighs. She is unspeakably soft here, so lovely and unexplored. I fight the deep need to rub my cheek along every inch of her. To mark her with my scent, sink my teeth into her unmarred skin, and claim her as my own.
“Alpha, please ,” she whines, a desperate sound from deep in her throat. And with it, the final thread of the prince’s steely resolve snaps.
“Fuck it,” he groans before grabbing her chin and fitting his lips to hers.
Ivy, the precious little thing she is, mewls. She is utterly shocked at the wildness taking over our normally collected Cillian, but kisses him back as if her life depends on it.
My cock is fit to burst, and I watch rapturously as she gives herself over to pleasure at the hands of her alpha. Though their kisses are messy and hindered by their excitement and shared inexperience, it’s a sight to behold all the same.
This is how Ivy was meant to be. No trivial, earthly bounds such as titles could ever contain her true nature. Cillian was right; she is a goddess—one who deserves to be worshiped by a pack of alphas devoted to her.
I can’t stand to be on the outside of their bliss any longer. Selfish as I am, I grab her chin and tear her mouth from his. Cillian growls, and Ivy whines, but the sound is soothed when I press my mouth to hers.
Though the feral need to dominate, to fuck her mouth with my tongue, burns hot beneath my skin, I’m determined not to rush this first meeting of our lips. Where she and Cillian are frantic and wild, I aim to tease, to draw her out to the very limits of her patience before allowing her to crash into bliss.
Heaven—she feels, tastes, and sounds of it as we touch each other. The way her delicate fingers slide into my hair and tug, how she pushes her tits forward and spreads her legs wider to accept me—every second is heaven on earth.
But my salvation is soon stripped from me when Cillian takes a page from my book and steals her lips for himself once more. Without the sweet reverberations of her pleasured whimpers against me, I’m filled with splitting envy. The pressure of grinding my teeth to keep from gnashing them at my best friend is agony, but I must choke it down.
We agreed to share for the sake of our future omega. If I must suppress the part of me wanting to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of her attention, so be it. I’ll rip apart my very soul to make sure she never knows pain.
Ivy isn’t even my bonded— yet —and I already know this to be true.
Though I crave her kisses, I’m eager to touch and worship every inch of Ivy while her prince has the honor of them. Her neck, for example. Her porcelain skin, now pink with the flush of arousal and the heat from the nearby fireplace, beckons me to taste it.
I’m rewarded with stuttering breaths of surprise and pleasure when my lips trail across the column of her throat. I continue my tender teasing, swiping my tongue along the place I desperately wish to bite and mark as my own. Another moan, another subtle opening of her body to me as she presses her breasts toward my waiting mouth. Though Cillian doesn’t release her from their searing kisses, I need no further provocation to continue my exploratory touches.
I press my mouth to the thin strap of her silken nightgown as I run the backs of my knuckles against a peaked nipple. Her gasp is clear and loud, telling me Cillian has finally pulled his lips from hers so he can watch this next bit.
Ivy and her ample breasts have haunted every moment of my sleepless nights this last month. I’ve longed to feel their weight in my palms—to squeeze and suck and watch them bounce as I fuck her deep and rough into the early hours of the morning. For fuck’s sake, I’m damn near ready to come apart in my trousers just thinking of getting my mouth on them.
Frenzied now, I hook a finger into each strap and tug the material to her waist unceremoniously. The movement lacks finesse, but I can’t stand to wait any longer to see her bare for me.
“Oran,” she cries, shivering as the night air and our hungry gazes touch her skin.
She’s unsure, my Ivy. She’s exposed and vulnerable, and hell if I don’t want to take all the uncertainty from her. Our mate should feel every bit the queen she is with her alphas’ rapt attention on her body.
Sensing the same hesitancy, Cillian strokes her cheek and presses a soft kiss to her neck.
“You’re a treasure, darling. Such a good girl, letting your alphas see you like this,” he coos.
She melts like warmed wax at the touch, at the soft assurance in his tone. Still, she keeps her eyes on me. Those deep blues pierce right into my bleeding heart, and I’m renewed in my determination to bring her pleasure until she can no longer stand it.
“I’m going to kiss you everywhere, love,” I say, cupping her heaving breasts and running my thumbs across her nipples. “First, these tits, then your wet cunt. And you’re going to come so good on my tongue. Do you understand?”
Ivy whines, tilting back her head in a moment of unfettered need. She’s desperate for me to pin her down and fuck her with my tongue until she’s spent and dripping. Her omega nature demands that she submit to us, and the alpha inside me calls to her—beckoning our mate to give herself over.
“He asked you a question, darling,” Cillian tsks, grabbing her hips and settling her onto his lap.
The way her perfume blooms when he presses his chest to her back has us both groaning and pawing at her skin. She doesn’t question our response to her scent, too caught up in the rush of sensations herself.
Before she can answer, Cillian tilts her head and kisses her—stealing the words from her tongue and keeping her breathless. Ivy likes this version of the prince. She preens for his praise and melts for the dominance he exudes now that he’s unleashed from his self-imposed prison of chastity.
“Do you understand?” he asks when he breaks their kiss.
With a brief nod, the final thread of Ivy’s hesitation unravels before our very eyes.
“Yes, alpha,” she breathes, giving me her gaze again. Her consent—her hunger—is clear in those ocean eyes.
“Fuck’s sake, you’re beautiful,” I growl and finally press my mouth to her tits.
The moment I wrap my tongue around her peaked nipple, the grating sound of a cleared throat cuts through the perfection of my omega’s whimpering.
“Seems I picked a bad night to be late,” a deep and familiar voice rings out in the darkness, followed by the thud of a door shutting.
Even with my back to him, the presence of that mountain of an alpha is unmistakable. It fills the room and crushes the tenuous surrender Ivy has only just gifted me.
Fucking Sloan, that gods damned eejit.
The princess gasps, though not in the way she had been moments ago. Not in breathless bliss. Rather, she’s taken aback by the intrusion.
Ivy launches herself forward, clinging to me as his hulking body steps forward into the light from the fireplace. Pride fills my chest, sparking joy when she seeks me out for comfort and protection from the unknown. It’s a small thing, but it will continue to grow if I nurture that instinct.
“It’s all right, love,” I promise. “It’s only Sloan.” I kiss her bare shoulder and do my best to assure he’s no threat to her—quite the opposite, in fact.
Only this time, Ivy doesn’t melt at the touch of my lips. Instead, she recoils, pushing at my chest to create space between our bodies. She’s quick to right the fabric of her nightgown, covering herself once more.
“Ivy—” I start, but the emotion in her eyes is evident.
Her passion for me, for all we could be to each other, has all but dissipated. Instead, what I find is shame over being seen with me. Were it only Cillian, I doubt she would be so scandalized.
But then, he’s a prince after all. Not some sorry nobleman who doesn’t deserve her.
As fast as she’s able, she’s off the prince’s lap and on her feet, putting even more distance between us. Something in my chest cracks further with each step she takes. Her rejection is a hot knife, and I’m not prepared for the agony of it slicing my heart to bits.
I should have known this would happen, should have guessed someone such as her could never feel pride at being with a fool like me. I shouldn’t have had faith in Cillian’s grand promises of belonging.
I so badly wanted to believe I could have it—that I could prove my father wrong.
But I won’t push myself onto someone who can’t return my affections, no matter how deeply I want her. I won’t chase a woman who doesn’t want me to catch her.
When Cillian calls after her, I don’t join him, not even when he looks at me as though I’ve ruined everything. And as Ivy races from the room, I truly think I may have.