I need to come so badly I’m about to start humping furniture, but apparently that’s not happening without an alpha audience. Could this get any more humiliating?
“I know exactly what you need,” Stefano replied, stepping closer until he loomed over me. The heat radiating from his body was almost overwhelming, his scent so potent it made my head spin. “And I’m offering to provide it.”
The implication hit me like a physical blow, sending horror and anticipation warring through my already-overwhelmed system. The thought of his hands on me after what his mouth had just done—my cock twitched traitorously at the idea, my body already knowing it wanted whatever he was offering.
Oh, hell no. Absolutely not. His kisses nearly killed me, and now he wants to put those hands on my cock? I’ll combust. Actually spontaneously combust from omega overload.
“No,” I said, though my voice came out breathless and unconvincing. “Absolutely not. We’re not crossing that line. The kisses were one thing, but this—no. Hard pass.”
But even as I said it, my omega biology was screaming the opposite. Every instinct I had was telling me to bare my throat, spread my legs, let the alpha take care of me. The scent of three aroused dominant alphas was making me dizzy with want.
“Pride is a luxury you can’t afford right now,” Marco said, his voice rougher than before. He was leaning against the tree like it was the only thing keeping him upright, his control obviously hanging by a thread. “And I promise, his hands are much more skilled than yours.”
Right, because I definitely need the sales pitch right now. ‘Come get manually stimulated by your kidnappers! We promise it’ll be better than DIY!’
“Fuck you,” I spat, though the effect was ruined by how my voice caught. “I’m not some omega charity case who needs alpha assistance. I’ve been handling my own arousal for years without your expert input, thank you very much.”
Stefano’s expression shifted, something predatory and possessive flashing in his eyes. “You’re an omega who’s in pain because his body needs release,” he said, his voice dropping to that alpha command register that bypassed my rational brain entirely. “I’m offering to provide that release. Nothing more.”
Nothing more, he says. Right. Like anything with these three is ever ‘nothing more.’ But God, the way he’s looking at me… like he wants to devour me whole.
“I’d rather suffer,” I insisted, though my body was screaming for relief. My cock was throbbing now, each heartbeat sending pulses of need through my system.
“Would you?” Stefano asked, stepping closer until I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. The size difference between us had never been more apparent. “Because your scent suggests otherwise. Your body’s crying out for relief, and I can give it to you.”
He paused, his gaze dropping to my lips, which were still swollen from his attention. “But you’ll have to ask for it, Leo. Properly.”
Properly. Of course. He wants me to beg him to touch my cock after he just claimed my mouth like a conquering barbarian. Could this power play be any more obvious?
“Never,” I whispered, though my body screamed otherwise. “I’d rather die.”
“Dramatic,” Marco observed, though his voice was strained. I caught him adjusting himself, his arousal obvious even from where I sat. “But unnecessary. Pride won’t ease that ache, little wildcat.”
Little wildcat. Right. More like ‘little omega bitch in heat’ at this point. My dignity is in tatters and my body is basically advertising how badly I need alpha attention.
Another wave of arousal pulsed through me, making me bite my lip to suppress a whimper. The suppressants were working—the heat symptoms weren’t progressing—but the existing arousal remained, intensified by their proximity and the lingering effects of those devastating kisses.
Stefano crouched before me again, and the movement brought his scent closer—pine and winter and pure alpha male. His hand landed on my knee, fingers spreading across my thigh, and even through the sweatpants the contact was electric.
“Let me help you,” he said, his voice gentler but no less commanding. Those cobalt eyes were fixed on mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Let me take care of you.”
His hand slid higher, thumb stroking along my inner thigh, and I couldn’t stop my legs from parting slightly. My body was betraying me again, responding to his touch despite my conscious resistance.
This is insane. I’m actually considering letting my kidnapper give me a hand job because my omega biology thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. My ancestors are rolling in their graves.
“I don’t want—” I started, but the words died as his thumb found that sensitive spot on my inner thigh that made my breath catch.
“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, his hand inching higher with deliberate slowness. “Not to me, and not to yourself. Your body knows what it needs. Stop fighting it.”
Stop fighting it. Right. Like my omega biology isn’t already waving white flags and rolling out the welcome mat. Traitor body.
He was right, damn him. Despite my conscious hatred, despite everything he’d done, my treacherous body was responding to his touch like it was designed specifically for his hands. The combination of his scent, his proximity, and the alpha pheromones saturating the air was making rational thought nearly impossible.
“Please,” I finally whispered, the word torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “I need…”
“Need what?” Stefano prompted, his thumb tracing maddening circles on my inner thigh, just inches from where I desperately needed to be touched. “Be specific, Leo. I want to hear you say it.”
He wants to hear me beg. Of course he does. Can’t just offer relief like a decent human being—has to make me grovel for it first.
