Page 48 of Puck Your Charity

"Let go of my hair." My breath ghosts against her soaked skin. "Put your hands above your head. Flat on the mattress."

She hesitates. The urge to hold on fights the urge to obey.

"It’s okay, Olive, we can still stop at any point." I keep my tone encouraging. "Trust me. Hands up."

She releases my hair. She moves her arms above her head, pressing her palms into the pillows.

I dive back in. I flick my tongue over her most sensitive spot with relentless strokes. She thrashes on the mattress. Keeping her hands flat requires all of her focus. It stops the chaotic spiral in her mind and gives her to the intense pleasure. I control her movements with verbal limits, removing the need for tangible restraints. She stays pinned by her own choice to submit.

"Please." Her hips lift off the mattress, chasing the friction. Her voice dissolves into a string of frantic whimpers. "I need it. Please, Malcolm."

I pause my tongue, blowing a stream of cool air over her slick, swollen clit.

She gasps, her fingers curling into tight fists against the pillows. The contrast of the cool air and the burning heat of her arousal sends a violent shudder through her limbs.

"Make me come." Tears of frustration and need spill over her eyelashes. "Please make me come."

I slide two thick fingers inside her tight canal, stretching her open while my mouth attacks her clit.

The dual stimulation pushes her over the edge.

Olive screams. A climax rips through her system. Her inner walls clamp down around my fingers with crushing force. She rides the intense, rolling waves of the orgasm, her hips stuttering against my face.

I keep sucking her clit through the aftershocks, milking every drop of pleasure from her trembling body. I watch the deep flush recede from her chest. I refuse to stop until her thighs fall limp against the sheets.

When her racing pulse slows to an even rhythm against my fingers, I pull back. I crawl up her body and wrap my broad arms around her, pulling her small frame tight against my chest.

I pull the duvet over her bare shoulders, shielding her from the cool air conditioning. She buries her face in my neck. She inhales my scent in deep, greedy gasps.

"You hold all the power." I stroke her dark hair, my large hand covering the back of her head. "You chose to trust me. You gave up the reins, and I kept you safe. You never have to fight this war alone if you don't want to. I've got you."

I hold a calm, peaceful Omega in my arms. Easing her burden and guiding her to surrender quieted the storm in her head. The sweet, even scent rolling off her skin proves she found some peace today.

Chapter 15

Iwalk out of the east wing suite. My bare feet pad against the hardwood floor of the main hallway.

I slept for ten solid hours. The frantic, desperate need to climb the walls vanished. Malcolm kept his promise. Handing him the reins yesterday silenced the chaotic storm in my head. I feel grounded and in control. The heat fever faded, leaving behind a manageable, lingering hum of arousal buzzing under my skin.

I push through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Finn, Lawrence, and Malcolm occupy the space around the marble island. Victor remains absent, keeping his distance in the west wing of the house. The atmosphere in the room carries a tense, aggressive electricity. Their scents fill the air. Thecrisp ozone, spicy black pepper, and rich cedar turn dark and territorial.

Finn turns away from the stove. He holds a spatula in his hand. "Morning, Liv. Grab a stool."

I climb onto a leather barstool. Finn slides a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon across the marble counter. I pick up a fork and take a hungry bite.

Lawrence leans against the refrigerator. He wears a tailored dark-blue suit. "You look better today. The color in your cheeks looks normal."

"I feel human." I take a sip of the black coffee Malcolm sets next to my plate. "Malcolm helped."

Malcolm nods once as a soft smile pulls at his lips.

Finn drops the spatula into the sink. "We have a favor to ask. We play our last regular-season game tonight."

Lawrence runs a hand through his dark curls. "A win secures our spot in the playoffs. A loss sends us home for the summer. We want you there."

I blink, staring at the three of them. "At the arena?"