21
Fritz
“Please!” It came outas a broken whimper, raw and desperate, slicing straight through the room and into my gut. The sound alone nearly dropped me to my knees.
Presley’s scent had thickened the air until I was breathing in her sweet, ripe omega heat. She smelled of vanilla, rain and cedarwood.My three scents. I wanted her anyway, I’d been half-hard since the moment she appeared in the doorway in Hastings office. Now that she was wearing Etienne’s shirt, her thighs glistening, and eyes blown wide, now I was aching.
Etienne didn’t hesitate. He slipped his hand into hers, thumb stroking over her knuckles like she was made of spun glass.
“Come, Princesse,” he murmured, voice low and reverent, the way he always spoke when he was trying not to scare her. For a rugby player he certainly knew how to treat an omega.
Etienne led her out of the study, slow steps to match her unsteady ones, and Hastings and I followed like we wereon invisible leashes. I suppose we were and she held those leashes.
We stopped at the threshold of her room. The door was open, and the soft lamplight spilled out, the air inside smelled of her.
Blankets and pillows were piled high on the oversized mattress—our shirts, our sweaters, anything that carried our scents woven into a perfect chaos only an omega in heat could build. I loved it.
Etienne was excited when he told us that she’d done it unconsciously over the last days, stealing from our laundry baskets. I laughed it off at the time, but the sight of it now made something possessive roar in my chest.
Presley paused just inside, then turned to look back at us. Her legs trembled. Slick shone on the insides of her thighs, catching the light.
The hem of Etienne’s shirt had ridden up enough to show the slick had soaked through, darkening the fabric.
I stayed in the doorway with the others. I’d learned the hard way never to cross an omega’s nest threshold uninvited. In my early twenties, a heat-drunk omega had invited me in with her eyes, then turned feral the second my foot touched her blankets. She was all claws, teeth–the works. I still had the faint scar on my shoulder. So I waited, fists clenched at my sides, cock throbbing against my zipper, every alpha instinct screaming at me to go to her.
She sank onto the nest, knees first, settling back on her heels. The shirt slipped higher as she parted herthighs just enough.Fuck.Her pussy was swollen, flushed pink, glistening with slick that dripped steadily onto the blankets beneath her. She looked up at us, eyes glassy, lips parted.
“Please,” she murmured again, softer this time, directed at all three of us.
That was the invitation.
Etienne moved first, of course. He crossed the room quickly and kneeled in front of her with reverence that bordered on worship. His hands hovered before touching, asking permission even now. She nodded frantically, and he cupped her face, thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks.
“Princesse,” he whispered, voice rough with awe. “You are exquisite.”
He pressed his mouth on hers and kissed her. It was slow and deep, like he was memorizing her mouth. She whimpered into it, fingers clutching his shoulders. When he pulled back, his pupils were blown, but he still moved carefully, easing the shirt up and off her body. She was bare underneath, breasts heavy, nipples tight, skin glowing with heat.
Hastings hadn’t moved from the doorway. He stood rigid, arms crossed, jaw clenched so hard, the muscle ticked. I’d seen that look. The control stretched to breaking. He still didn’t fully believe the scent match was real, or maybe he was terrified it was. Either way, he was holding back, cataloging every detail like this was a transaction instead of the moment we’d all been circling for weeks.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stepped inside.
Presley’s eyes flicked to me, brightening.
“Fritz,” she breathed, and the sound of my name in that needy voice nearly undid me.
“Hey, Omega,” I said, keeping my tone light even though my blood was pounding. “I heard you started the party without us.”
A shaky laugh escaped her, cutting through the haze. Good. I wanted her to smile, even if it was through the heat.
I dropped to my knees beside Etienne, close enough that our shoulders brushed. She reached for me immediately, fingers tangling in my hair. I let her pull me up to her, and before I knew what I was doing, I was nipping at her bottom lip before kissing her properly. She melted against me, a soft moan vibrating against my tongue.
Etienne’s hands were already sliding down her body, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. She arched. I broke the kiss to watch her face, eyes that were now fluttering, her parted lips, and then I couldn’t resist anymore. I dipped my head, taking one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder when she gasped my name.
Hastings finally moved. He crossed the room slowly, shedding his shirt at the side of the nest. His movements were measured, almost clinical. He knelt on her other side, but he didn’t touch her yet. He watched, eyes dark as his thumb stroked over his bottom lip.
I knew now how much he wanted her.
Etienne laid her back gently into the nest, pillows cradling her head. He kissed a path down her sternum, lingering over her stomach, murmuring French endearments too low for me to catch. When he reached her thighs, he nudged them wider with reverent hands.
