Page 146 of The Boss Omega
“Knot.” Her voice is rough and urgent. Her slick is already soaking the sheets, the sweet caramel scent thick enough to taste.
“Shh, princess. Let us help you.”
Saint lifts her hips and enters her in one swift move. There’s no preamble. No prep. “Jesus, she’s scorching,” he pants, his hips slapping against hers.
She sprawls forward, chest on the mattress, arms spread wide. “You,” she says, her eyes locking on mine. “Taste.”
“Why don’t you let me taste you, instead?” I say.
She shakes her head. “Taste. Now!”
Graham chuckles. “You better give her what she wants, Silas.” As if I would do anything else.
I grunt, lifting to my knees. Saint sits back on his heels, continuing his pace.
“Want your cum, daddy. Please.” She lifts to her hands and sticks her tongue out, lapping at the tip of my cock as Saint’s rhythm pushes her forward and back.
I grunt, edging my cock between her lips. Her mouth stretches around me, tongue circling my head.
“Shit.” My hips start to work, my cock going deeper and deeper.
She takes more. Pushing and adjusting. Swallowing my length the way I taught her to do with Graham.
“Just the tip,” I rasp. “Use your hand.”
She hums around my cock, hand sliding up and down my length, fingers brushing over my knot. She sucks harder, hollowing her cheeks, spit dripping down her chin as Saint’s thrusts shove her deeper on my length. Her lips part, breath catching as she palms my balls.
My hand fists in her hair. “Look at me, little bird. Eyes on me when I come down your throat.”
Her golden eyes blink up at me, mouth open wide, tongue lapping at my tip.
"She's close," Saint grunts, slamming into her harder.
I feel her orgasm through the bond. A white-hot spike that makes her pussy clamp down on him. Saint snarls and locks his knot deep, flooding her. The sight rips my own climax from me. I hold her head steady and watch thick ropes of cum coat her tongue and drip down her lips.
“How was that, baby girl?” I ask. Those golden eyes blink up at me, then she opens her mouth. Cum is pooled on her tongue. She closes her lips and swallows. Then opens her mouth again, showing me her empty tongue with a proud little smile, golden eyes glazed with heat.
“All gone, daddy,” she says.
“Fuck,” Graham says from the chair.
Exactly.
Lark’s heat has gone on for three days. There’s been very little sleep. With three alphas, we rotate. So we’ve gotten more rest than she has.
It hasn’t been without its battles, though. Lark in heat is incredibly stubborn. Her omega refuses food, water, and baths. It took all of us to get her in the shower. Graham knotted her against the tile wall, while I washed her hair and Saint scrubbed her body. We’ve managed to become surprisingly efficient.
“You have to eat something, princess,” Saint urges, holding a protein bar to her mouth. I spent days preparing frozen meals, all her favorites, but she’s stubbornly resisted everything. We did convince her to eat a donut one day, and Saint got half an iced latte into her before she realized it was filled with protein shake instead of milk.
“I want this.” She leans forward and drags her tongue up the underside of Saint’s cock, licking the bead of pre-cum like it’s her favorite treat.
After three nonstop days, I’m surprised any of us still has the energy to get it up, but our bodies know what to do and we are ready at the snap of her long fingers.
Saint inches back. “I’ll let you taste me, if you eat two bites.” He holds the bar out to her. She whines, then snaps at the bar when she realizes he won’t give in.
“One more,” he urges.
She grumbles but takes another bite. It’s not enough but it’s something.
