Page 56 of The Omega

My lips crashed into hers, taking. My claws dug into her plump little ass as I held her against me and ravaged her pretty mouth.

Sparks ignited at her sugary taste. The sweetness of her tongue as it danced with mine. I’d never felt this alive before. It was flying. Falling. Crashing all at the same time.

Opal moaned into my mouth as she rocked her center along my aching length, digging her nails into the back of my neck.

My mate burned too and wanted to take from me.

I spread her thighs wider with mine, encouraging her to chase that high. Because I was going to drown in it.

In her.

I wasn’t that much of a gentleman.

I released her ass to fist my hand in her hair as her fingers frantically fumbled with my shirt, tearing the buttons off as she ripped it open.

Tilting her head back, I drank deeper of that kiss, intending to flip her over and—

Rushing helicopter blades were deafening as the spotlight rose over the cliff, blinding me when Opal tore her mouth away to scream.

Laughing, I released her to put my hands in the air. Opal buried herself against my chest, mortified.

“Guess you found us,” I called out to a very pissed off Ken, who sat in the helicopter with the cameras rolling.

21

Opal

What is wrong with you?!?

In my defense, Dorian is sex on wheels. How do they even make them this hot?

Goddess, I closed my eyes to pray, knowing I was running out of options here. I’ll be good—better than good—if you make it stop.

Or, hear me out, we can drop the good girl act and be really, really bad.

“Hey, are you alright?” Dorian took my hand, raising it to his lips. The same lips I’d tasted earlier. Could still taste. The thrill of the night still coursed through me, even if the producer ruined it by showing up and forcing us to come back to the resort.

Which was perfect.

Because while I loved having Dorian’s hands on me and the taste of him on my tongue, it wasn’t enough. The ache was growing and I needed more.

A few Alphas lingered outside on the front porch. Dorian growled as they edged closer to us. He turned to growl at the camera crew too.

So much growling.

It shouldn’t have been such a turn-on.

How much rum did I drink?

I burned through that an hour ago.

It was getting hotter despite the cool night air outside. I could feel my temperature rising. My breasts were heavy, aching to be held. I wanted to rip my clothes off. Wanted to be touched and tasted and kissed. Dorian was here. And he looked so good. I needed him.

I needed—

“Atlas,” I cried out his name as he threw open the front doors. Murder was written in his darkened expression, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I let go of Dorian’s arm to reach for Atlas, aching for both my mates.

Atlas barreled right past me, straight into Dorian’s chest, and sent them both tumbling onto the gravel driveway.