Wrapping an arm around her back, I take two steps forward and place her on the edge of the bed. She grabs my discarded tee, burying her nose in the sweaty fabric. I grin at the sound she makes, but it only goes up in pitch as I lift her legs and wrap her ankles around my neck. I’m still buried inside her, but this angle gives me a lot more leverage, and her eyes blow wide.
“Focus, Omega,” I tease, tapping her slick-streaked thigh. “I want another orgasm, and this time you’re gonna sing loud enough to wake up your mates.”
Her eyes narrow, but only until I press a knee to the bed and plunge inside her. Everything but pure bliss is wiped from her face, her mouth falling open as I spear her to the hilt. Her silky thighs slide under my hands and I grip her tighter, pulling back to plunge in again. She’s so hot and tight, I forget myself for a while, thrusting inside her over and over until I can’t tell where she starts and I finish.
“Bluff!”
I ease back, my spine tingling at the sudden loss of her clutching heat. “Too much, Queen?”
She screws up her nose, and I think I’ve fucked up until she says with a blush, “That’s what I call my bike.”
I chuckle. “That’s gotta be your throne, because you’re definitely the queen in this picture.” I run a hand down her thigh, brushing the soft curls over her stretched sex. “Unless you want me to call you princess.”
I don’t need to tune into our bond to feel how much she likesthat, especially when her pussy flutters around me, almost begging for more. “Oh yeah? You want to be my sweet Princess Abigail?”
The shyness is suddenly back, and it looks fucking lickable on her flushed face. “I don’t hate it,” she mumbles, half hiding in the tangle of her hair. “The princess part, I mean.”
“My perfect princess,” I croon, thrusting in just hard enough to make her squirm. “So pretty and sweet, I feel kind of bad that I’m fucking her so hard.”
“Oh, never apologize for that,” she manages, but I can see the effort it’s taking her to stay focused, and I drop the teasing. I keep my strokes long and slow, watching every flicker on her face as she starts climbing to another peak. My cock is drunk onher slick, the skin so tight and hot, I have to grit my teeth to hold back the eruption. “Bluff,” she moans, her hands lifting above her head, her eyes lost to her bliss. “I need your knot, Alpha.”
“Here it comes, princess.”
She hisses as it catches on her rim, already stretched taut and tender from taking Pitt’s knot. I’m vaguely aware of him rolling onto his side, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of his mate speared on my cock. He nudges Wings awake, the omega going from sleep to full awareness in the blink of an eye. He’s clearly got tunnel vision, his attention latching straight onto Abbie as her hands flail, looking for an anchor. He scoots across the bed before her frustrated cry can leave her lips, his fingers catching hers. The look on her face is sweet relief, especially since my knot is pushing inside her, stretching her to the limit. Wings drops to her side, their hands still entwined as he whispers something in her ear.
I watch them both as she falls over the edge, his mouth pressed to her throat as she gasps out her pleasure. But then my eyes slam shut, my own climax rushing at me like a freight train. My knot is plugged tight, my bond lit up with so much sensation, I have to brace my knees to stay upright. It’s blinding light and pulsing warmth, all wrapped in the sweet scent of my mate’s release.
I don’t know how I get into bed, just that I’m suddenly on my side with my knot still buried deep inside her. Wings is brushing back her sweaty hair, dropping kisses on her cheeks while Pitt pulls a fuzzy blanket over both of us. Abbie’s still milking me, taking every willing drop from my body, but I can feel sleep stealing over me. I wantmore, I want this forever, but between one shuddering breath and the next, I’m out.
I wake to crust in my swollen eye and fresh coffee teasing my nose. I try to blink the first away, but I’m too distracted by the second. I rarely smell things that are really there, oftenmistaking ordinary things for blood, or smoke, or even motor oil. I’m retraining my receptors, but it’s slow going. Which is why I’m still blinking when Abbie’s omega thrusts a cup of coffee under my nose. “Morning,” Wings murmurs, then nods at the bureau. “Glory has been cooking up a storm. There’s breakfast sandwiches and blueberry muffins if you feel up to eating.”
I look around, my body one big, satisfied ache. “Abbie...?”
Wings’ gray eyes dance with mischief. “Princess Abigail had one last ride on her fair knight and then finally passed out.” He points behind me and I roll to find Abbie and Pitt locked in a sleepy embrace. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
There’s a hint of tension in his voice and I shake my head as I sit up and take the cup of coffee. “I just had the best knot and deepest sleep in years. If it works for her, how can I complain?”
He blinks at my blunt honesty, but then he sinks onto the bed beside me, picking at the muffin on his plate. I reach over and take the dog tags off the nightstand, brushing a thumb over the familiar engraving. Mine are somewhere in the bottom of the Atlantic, tossed off a pier when I got out of the VA hospital, but I smile as I read the tag. “Samson Taylor. He was a good guy.” I look up at Wings. “You knew him?”
“Our families were close.” He casts a sad glance Abbie’s way. “She misses him a lot.”
I nod, a familiar grinding pain in my chest for all the guys I lost. I shake it off, turning my attention to the other tag. “Does she know this one is Ark’s?”
Wings clicks his tongue. “I think she’s in denial. Too much history between them, or something.”
I grunt, because messy history or not, this is practically a declaration of love from Ark.
“I think her heat’s broke,” Wings says, distracting me.
“Yeah?” I frown, sniffing the air, which earns me a curious look. “I can’t always smell what’s right under my nose,” I explain. “Side effect of having my brain rattled by an IED.”
His face softens with sympathy. “That’s hard. But you can smell Abbie, right?”
“Clear as peach cobbler. Maybe it’s a scent mate thing, although I knew there was coffee in the room before you shoved this cup under my nose. That has to be progress, right?”
“Or Glory’s coffee is just that good.”
I shrug, taking another sip, because he’s spot on about the taste. “I don’t know a lot about this, though,” I tell him, nodding in Abbie’s direction. “Never thought I’d end up with a mate, let alone a pack.”
