My orgasm is like a runaway train. It starts with no warning, but Matteo and Valentine don’t let it simmer; they both grab hold and drive it even faster.
“Knot her,” Matteo insists, but it was really unnecessary. Valentine was already nearly there. I relax and let Valentine in, his knot fitting inside my body.
Matteo surges deep, his hand collaring my throat, tipping my head back, and before I can ask what he is doing, my lips get rubbed by Dante’s pre-come. He looks like he’s balancing mid-air, and instead of trying to figure out how, I open my mouth and reach up to deep throat him, taking the three of them as much as I can.
I fall.
I explode.
Pleasure bursts through my body. Parts of me lock up tighter. I can feel Valentine and Matteo growing thicker, harder. Dante’s flavor is the only thing I can taste, his grunts of praise like music. Valentine’s knot pulls and drags before he stops me moving, so I can feel him erupting in my ass, then starts to fuck me harder when my orgasm ebbs.
I don’t know how they do it, but they count off each and every one of my orgasms before they each fill me like they promised. I pass out with three sets of hands rubbing over my skin.
24
Layne
It’s hard not to whine when Valentine pulls out of my body, but I feel like I’m losing a limb. Same with Matteo. I’ve become instantly addicted to how they make me feel, and the notion of being married to them, of being their Omega, is so damn near perfect, I want to cry.
If we have sex like that for the rest of my days, any whispers of the revenge I want to take against my family seem insignificant and wasteful.
I barely open my eyes, but it would be impossible to miss the joy I find in Matteo’s. Except, of course, Dante pushes him out of the way to fill my view with his very smug look.
“What?” I slur, trying to sound completely put together and unaffected by my husbands’ dicking prowess, and failing miserably, if the three husky chuckles are anything to go by.
“I like this loved-up, snuggly version of you.”
“I will remind you of that when you least need it,” I mumble, but I turn away, burying against Valentine's chest.
“What time is it?” he asks, his fingers running up and down my spine, lulling me further into a dozy cloud of soft endorphins.
“We have a couple of hours.”
“Wake me up when you leave,” I say, rubbing my face and finding a more comfortable spot.
“We’re all going.”
“I can’t,” I whine.
Valentine’s hand leaves my body for a moment, and then a moment later, I get goodbye kisses from Dante and Matteo.
I definitely snooze, so does Valentine. His breathing is deep and slow, and his arm stays wrapped around me protectively.
And then he wakes me the same way he sent me to sleep, with long, tickling touches up my spine. I twist and stretch; the afterglow of vigorous, delicious sex has my muscles aching like a beautiful reminder.
Rolling backward, Valentine follows and crowds from above as he rests his head on his elbow and rolls his thigh up on my leg.
“I don’t know how, Layne, but it feels like we’ve been doing this for a long time.”
I smile, because I feel the same way, and when he dips down and kisses me softly, my heart thuds painfully hard in my chest, and I hope I haven’t read all this wrong. I’m not sure I could survive being in their world like this and cast out; it would break me.
“Dante said you were worried about how fast things are happening,” he says, towering over me still, so I can’t hide from him. “I want you to know, we were raised to trust our gut, to put all our faith in those immediate feelings you have when meeting someone. Like learning to pick up the smallest shift in someone's scent. Sometimes I think it’s actually a part of our DNA. Our parents pushed us to be very confident in our Alpha designation, and that insight has saved us too many times.”
He brushes hair off my face. Though he’s tender, he’s not holding back his dominance, either.
“We might be possessive, occasionally violent, and protective. The flip side of that is, for our mate, we are devout, loyal, and nearly smothering in our affection.”
I sigh dramatically. “Poor me.”
