I come with a scream, my whole body clenching around his fingers. He works me through it, drawing out every aftershock, until I’m pushing weakly at his hand.
“Too much.”
“Okay, okay.” He eases his fingers out, and I whimper at the loss. “God, look at you. Flushed and sweaty and fucked out. Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I reach for his jeans, the obvious bulge straining against the denim. “Let me...”
“Tessa...”
“I want to.” I meet his eyes. “Please. I need to touch you.”
He hesitates. Then he unbuttons his jeans, shoves them down his hips. His cock springs free—thick and hard and leaking—and my mouth waters.
“Just your hand,” he says, voice strained. “If you put your mouth on me right now, I’ll come in about three seconds.”
I wrap my fingers around him and he hisses, his hips jerking. He’s hot and hard and silky smooth, and I stroke him slowly, learning what he likes.
“Tessa...” His eyes flutter closed. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Tell me what you like.”
“Everything. Anything. Your hand on my cock is literally all my dreams coming true.” He laughs, but it cuts off into a groan when I twist my wrist. “That—yeah, that.”
I stroke him faster. He’s close—I can feel it in the way his cock throbs in my hand, the way his breathing goes ragged.
“Tessa.” Warning and plea. “I’m gonna...”
“Do it.” I echo his words back at him. “Come for me, Ben.”
He does. His whole body shudders as he spills over my hand, my stomach, the blankets beneath us. I stroke him through it until he’s gasping and pushing my hand away.
“Fuck.” He collapses next to me, breathing hard. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Worth it though?”
“So worth it.” He grins at me, lazy and satisfied. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” The ache is still there, but it’s manageable now. “But I’m not done.”
“Demanding.” But he’s still grinning. “Good thing there’s three of us.”
Milo is already movingtoward the nest.
“My turn,” he says, and his voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “If you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it.”
He strips off his shirt as he climbs in—golden skin stretched over lean muscle—and I reach for him immediately. My hands roam over his chest, his abs, the trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans.
“Impatient,” he murmurs, but he’s smiling.
“I’ve been watching you watch me.” I pull at his jeans. “Take these off.”
“Bossy omega.” But he obeys, shoving his jeans and boxers down. His cock is already hard, long and flushed and curving up toward his stomach. “Like what you see?”
“Yes.” I wrap my hand around him and he groans. “I want...”
“What do you want?” He settles beside me, his hand sliding between my thighs. “Tell me.”
