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I flick the lock and stride to my desk, ripping at my belt as I go. My pants bunch around my quads while I shove them down, freeing my throbbing erection.
It bobs upright, curving to reach my navel, forcing me to pull my shirttails up before they get smeared with pre-cum.
A bolt of relief sails up into my stomach. For a moment, I don’t know if it’s mine or Serena’s.
When I go still, my hand hovering beside my cock instead of grasping it the way I want to, I know for sure. It’s her, not me.
And if the accompanying notes of confusion and desperation are any indication, she isn’t alone.
One of the guys has her.
Fucking hell, but why does that make the pain worse?
Or better, really. The vicious pulse pounding in my cock kicks up, inflating my knot. Until I’m sure that, even if I just stand here and watch my package twitch and swell, I’ll end up coming all over my desk.
I consider it. Consider waiting, watching what the little omega can do to me without even realizing.
But then she sends a lick of languid heat through the bond.
My control shatters.
I press one palm along my hot, pulsing length and use the other to squeeze my screaming knot. The wetness seeping from my cockhead lets me glide in and out of my fist without resistance.
I imagine Serena’s slick, her swelling scent. A growl snags in my heaving chest. My knot expands, pushing through my kneading fingertips, growing heavier in my hand.
Fuck, she would take me all the way down to the root. Squeeze me and slip against me again and again and ag?—
My entire core flexes as a rough roar bursts from my lungs. Scalding pleasure washes over the pain pulling at my middle, whiting it all out for one blissful moment. I squeeze myself tightly, imagining her body strangling everything I have…
…and come all over the polished mahogany in front of me, shooting thick ropes of white across the dark wood desk.
Dragging in a shuddering breath, I close my eyes and drop my head, trying to come down from my climax.
But the painfully incomplete tether in my center rips at my insides. And Serena isn’t done. Her arousal assails me all over again, sending trembling jerks through my spent dick, drawing my aching balls up even harder.
So we can start all over again.
chapter
twenty-seven
“Did you want to keep your toes?”
The cool blue flames in Avery’s eyes flare as he levels a look at Jonah. The big man stretched out underneath me rolls his eyes and grumbles, angling his legs to drop his feet to the floor, well away from Avery’s left thigh.
A few days ago, I might not have had the balls to say anything, but after four days in their house, I’ve learned that the easiest way to make Avery happy is to blurt whatever sassy nonsense pops into my head.
Because he likes it.
I narrow my gaze at the tattooed alpha. “He was here first, you know.”
Pale, fiery eyes roll over my black cut-offs and Jonah’s borrowed jersey, up to my pouting face. His mouth twitches, the plush pink lips betraying a hint of his crooked grin. “You telling me to get lost, kitten?”
Jonah’s brawny hand continues massaging the back of my neck. He’s been true to his word ever since my first night here—steadily doing everything he can to treat my touch starvation without even a trace of expectation.
Today, he got home from practice and decided we needed to veg out on the couch. Of course, his version of “vegging out” includes a stuffed-crust pizza, buffalo wings, cheese fries, and absolutely no veggies to speak of.
He offered to let me pick anything I wanted to watch, but he’s done that every day. When I insisted he choose, he asked if I’d mind watching an old game so he can review the tape.
