6. Mikkel
Mikkel
Nadia collapses against my chest. Her tears soak the skin over my collarbone.
I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close.
Soren presses his chest against her back.
He buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent in long, desperate drags.
The heavy aroma of wild honey and crushed cherry wraps around my lungs, acting like a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart.
The agonizing, day-long standoff shatters. We hold her. We finally have our Omega in our arms.
A violent shudder rips through her frame. She trembles under the weight of the Heat fever, her breath hitching in ragged, wet gasps. We spent the entire day denying her, fighting our instincts, and pushing her away. The guilt gnaws at my gut. I need to fix the damage.
"Look at me." I loosen my grip just enough to cup her jaw, tilting her head up.
Her dark brown eyes meet mine. Tears streak the smudged black eyeliner down her cheeks.
"We need to clear the air right now." I brush my thumb across her cheekbone, wiping away a fresh tear.
"We know you had a crush on us back in the day.
We noticed the short skirts and the lingering looks.
But we never viewed you like that back then.
You existed only as Marcus's kid. Our thoughts remained platonic.
We never crossed that line in our heads, not even once. "
She flinches, jerking her chin back a fraction of an inch. "Why are you telling me this?" A hurt, defensive edge cracks her voice.
"Because you need to know we didn't spend the last ten years grooming our best friend's teenage daughter." I tighten my grip just enough to keep her from pulling away. "We need to set that record straight."
"Everything changed last night." Soren's warm breath washes over her neck. "You walked onto that yacht looking like a queen. We saw a stunning, confident, twenty-eight-year-old woman. We caught your scent, and it rewired our brains on the spot."
She searches my face, hunting for a lie. "You ignored me all day." Her voice shakes, raw and angry. "You treated me like a fucking liability."
"We treated you like a temptation we couldn't afford.
" I hold her gaze, refusing to let her look away or hide.
"You own us now, Nadia. You stand here as our perfect scent-match.
Our Omega. We pushed you away today to protect you, not because we don't want you. We want you more than our next breath."
Her fingers twist into the gray cotton of my sweatpants. "Then stop fighting it." A desperate, horny edge bleeds into her words. "I don't care about my dad. I don't care about the company. I just want you. Both of you. Stop pushing me away."
She lets out a long, ragged exhale. Her shoulders drop, the rigid tension bleeding out of her muscles. She slumps forward, burying her face in the crook of my neck again.
I look up. I catch Soren's eye over her dark hair.
We don't need words. Two decades of building real estate empires and running ruthless boardrooms together mean we operate on the same wavelength.
We communicate in silent shifts of focus.
Soren's pale blue eyes burn with pitch-black Alpha demand.
The muscles in his thick neck bunch under the strain of his own restraint. He gives me a single, hard nod.
I nod back. We forge a silent agreement in a second.
We know what this means. Touching her crosses a massive, permanent line.
We can never un-cross it. Marcus trusts us with his business, his money, and his only daughter.
Claiming his Omega will ignite absolute fury.
He will try to tear our company apart. He will throw a thirty-year friendship straight into the fire.
We face a brutal corporate and personal war the second we hit the docks in Manten.
I look down at the gorgeous woman trembling in my arms. Her slick soaks the leather cushions underneath us. The rich, demanding scent of her arousal clouds my head, erasing every logical boundary I possess.
She makes the fallout worth it. I will burn the entire company to the ground before I let another man touch her.
The wrinkled black slip dress traps the heat against her skin. Sweat coats her neck and chest, gluing the ruined silk to her curves. She shifts in my lap, whimpering as the fabric scrapes against her sensitive skin.
"Let's get this off you." I find the hidden zipper resting on her ribcage.
I pull it down. The metal parts with a quiet hiss. Soren shifts back a fraction of an inch, giving me room to maneuver. He grips the thin spaghetti straps and slides them off her shoulders. We work together.
I lift her arms. Soren pulls the ruined silk over her head and tosses it onto the teak floorboards.
The cool evening ocean breeze sweeps through the open glass doors.
The moving air hits her flushed, naked brown skin.
She shivers, arching her back as the temperature drops against her sweat-slicked body.
She wears nothing but a soaked scrap of black lace underwear.
Her heavy breasts spill over the top of the lace, the dark nipples pulled tight into hard peaks.
Soren tracks her curves, his jaw locking hard. He turns on his heel and heads for the galley.
I shift my grip, pulling her bare back flush against my chest. My low-slung sweatpants provide a rough contrast to her soft skin.
I wrap my arms around her waist. A deep, heavy rumble builds in my chest. The vibration transfers straight into her spine, acting as a grounding anchor for her frantic nerves.
Soren returns a minute later. He carries two fresh bottles of water and a damp, freezing towel. He drops to his knees in front of the sofa. A matching rumble starts deep in his throat, harmonizing with mine.
"Drink, sweetheart." He presses the icy cloth to the side of her neck, right over her scent gland, and holds the plastic bottle to her lips.
She takes a desperate gulp, water spilling down her chin and pooling in her collarbone. She pulls back, her breathing ragged.
"I'm sorry." Her hands twist into my sweatpants. "I'm such a fucking mess. You guys got stuck babysitting a burden."
My rumble stops. I tighten my grip on her waist, my fingers pressing hard into her hipbones.
"Stop." My voice leaves zero room for debate. "Don't ever say that shit again. You aren't a burden. We spent twenty years looking for you. Taking care of you is exactly what we want. We want you."
Soren tosses the towel aside. He cups her face in both of his large hands, forcing her to look at him. "You belong right here. We're done pushing you away, Nadia. Let us take care of you."
She stares at him. Her chest heaves. The lingering doubt bleeds out of her eyes, replaced by pure, demanding Heat. "Okay." She shifts her hips against my lap. A wet, needy sound escapes her throat. "Then take care of me. Make the ache stop."
The lingering insecurity drains from her eyes.
Her shoulders drop, and the rigid tension leaves her frame.
Pressing down hard, she drags her soaked core against my thighs, grinding into the cotton of my sweatpants to find some kind of friction.
The intoxicating scent of her slick mixes with the salty ocean breeze, filling the cabin with a demanding, mouth-watering aroma.
Soren hooks his fingers into the waistband of her soaked lace underwear. He pulls the delicate fabric down her thighs, dragging it over her knees and tossing it aside, leaving her bare and desperate in our arms.
Sliding off my lap, she drops to her knees on the plush rug right between our spread legs.
Her hands drop to the waistband of my sweatpants, shoving the gray cotton down to expose my rock-hard cock.
Her dark eyes widen, taking me in before her small hand wraps around my thick shaft.
Her thumb brushes the swollen knot at the base, making my hips jerk. A rough growl vibrates in my chest.
Turning to Soren, sitting on the edge of the cushions next to me, she drags his sweatpants down his hips. His cock springs free, thick and weeping pre-come.
Kneeling at our feet, she leans forward and takes the head of Soren's cock into her mouth.
She runs her tongue over the tip, swirling around the slit before sucking him in deep.
He groans, his large hand tangling in her dark hair.
The wet, slurping sound echoes in the quiet lounge as she bobs her head, taking him down to the back of her throat.
Without breaking her rhythm, her free hand strokes my length.
She spreads my pre-come, pumping her fist up and down my shaft.
The intense friction sends a shockwave of heat straight to my gut.
Pulling off of Soren with a wet pop, she shifts her attention to me.
She guides the head of my cock past her lips, taking me in.
Her tongue swirls around the sensitive tip before she swallows my length.
I thrust my hips upward, sinking deep into her hot, wet mouth.
A quiet hum vibrates in the back of her throat.
She works us both, her hand stroking Soren while her mouth devours me, taking desperate, messy control of the situation.
I’m not as young as I used to be; if she' keeps this up I’m going to come.
I press my hand to her shoulder. "Enough.” She pulls away with me to catch her breath and furrows her brow at me.
I lift my hand to cup her cheek and stroke my thumb across it.
You need this more than we do right now.
" Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her forehead.
Gripping her wrists, I pull her hands away from us. I guide her up and lay her flat on her back across the long section of the sofa.
Soren shifts down the cushions. He parts her knees, settling his broad shoulders between her thighs.
He spreads her legs wide, opening her up to the warm evening air.
Her slick coats her inner thighs, leaving a glossy sheen in the dim light of the lounge.
The sight of my best friend burying his face in our Omega's soaking wet pussy sends a massive spike of lust straight to my cock.
Soren leans forward, inhaling a deep breath right over her soaked core. "You smell fucking incredible, Nadia."
He runs his tongue up her slit, lapping at her slick and taking his time to taste her.
A soft whimper escapes her lips, her hips twitching against the cushions as he traces the sensitive folds with the flat of his tongue, teasing her and building the ache.
Opening his mouth wide, he presses his face into her wet pussy.
His tongue swirls a wet, demanding path right over her clit.
Nadia screams, throwing her head back. Sliding up behind her, I wrap my arms around her torso to support her bare back against my chest. I catch her lips in a deep, wet kiss, swallowing her loud, frantic moans.
I slide my tongue against hers, matching the relentless, steady rhythm Soren sets between her legs.
I map every inch of her torso, tracing the sharp curve of her ribs as my palms slide over her sweat-slicked skin.
I cup her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh before dragging my thumbs over her dark, hard nipples.
Arching her spine, she thrusts her chest up to meet my hands.
I pinch her nipples, rolling them between my fingers, and the sharp sensation makes her gasp against my mouth.
Soren pushes two thick fingers deep inside her soaking pussy. Her slick coats his knuckles. Curling his fingers, he hits the swollen bundle of nerves deep inside her. He sucks her clit into his mouth, applying a demanding suction.
Her body thrashes against the leather. "Soren pulls his fingers out and slides them back in, stretching her tight opening.
He adds a third finger. The wet, slapping sound of his hand against her thighs fills the room.
Her hips rock up off the sofa to chase his touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
Moving my mouth down her neck, my teeth scrape right over her scent gland. The sharp bite pulls a loud whine from her throat. Soren's thumb pins her clit against his tongue while his fingers pump in and out of her dripping wetness. The friction builds a massive, undeniable pressure in the room.
Her nails dig into my forearms, breaking the skin. "Please. More."
I scrape my teeth against her jaw. "Shatter for us."
Soren increases the pace, driving his fingers deep while his thumb maintains that relentless friction. The dual stimulation pushes her over the edge.
Her body stiffens against my chest as a massive orgasm crashes through her. Clamping down hard around Soren's fingers, hot slick squirts over his hand, dripping onto the leather cushions in a sudden rush. A loud, raw scream of pure pleasure echoes out the open glass doors and over the empty ocean.
Shaking through the aftershocks, her head lolls against my chest while her muscles turn to jelly. Soren pulls his fingers free, licking her slick off his skin before resting his forehead against her knee. His chest heaves with rapid pants.
I kiss the crown of her sweaty head, holding her as she pants, boneless and exhausted in my arms. We shift on the leather sofa, pulling the throw pillows down to create a soft, makeshift nest around her.
The initial climax breaks the worst of the fever, but a true Heat lasts for days.
The deep ache will return in a few hours.
We face a long, incredible night ahead of us.
I stare out at the dark water and pull my Omega closer.
Getting stranded in the middle of the ocean ranks as the best thing that ever happened to us.