Page 61 of The Florist and Her Alphas

He draws in a sharp breath against my hair.

“So smooth,” he whispers, his voice gone rough. “So soft. You’re already wet for me.”

He’s right about that.

My slick is soaking through the silk, warm and thick, and I feel his erection twitch hard against my ass through his slacks. A fresh wave of slick spills out of me against his palm, and Ezra’s fingers curl, pressing into the soft flesh of my mound.

From my left, Julian feeds me another piece of bread. He is completely aware of what his brother is doing to my pussy under the table, but he’s completely unbothered. His hazel eyes are dark, fixed on my face as he leans in, and I take the bread from his fingers.

“Yes, eat up,” Ezra purrs like a lion, his breath warm against my ear as his middle finger slides between my pussy folds. “You’re our good girl, Lia. Our perfect, good girl.”

He traces my opening, slowly, gathering my slick on his fingertip. The sensation sends electric pulses through my veins as his finger circles my entrance, wet with my own slick, teasing, never quite pushing in.

“Maybe we should do this later…” I start to say, but his mouth brushes the shell of my ear, making my heart race.

“You are not to make a sound,” he whispers. “Your job at this dinner is to eat what your alphas feed you and to take what I am giving you. You will do both at once like a good girl. Do you understand me?”

I nod. I cannot speak. My throat is closed tight around the pasta, around the want, around the ache building between my thighs where his finger circles my entrance.

Cole’s fork keeps coming to my lips. Julian’s bread keeps coming. August keeps lifting my water glass, his blue eyes never leaving my face, as he studies my every moan.

And Ezra slides one finger inside me.

I let out a high whimper as I try to swallow the pasta and also focus on the stretch and fullness of his finger deep into my pussy.

Cole’s eyes flick down at my mouth and back up. He pushes the fork in a little further, his thumb brushing my lower lip.

“Keep eating,” he says softly. “You need your strength.”

I chew. My whole world has narrowed to the point where Ezra’s finger is buried inside me, to the slow, curling drag of it against my inner walls, to the spot deep inside that makes my thighs tense around his wrist.

His thumb finds my clit. Circles it lightly, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow, wet circles over the swollen nub, and pleasure builds low in my belly, hot and relentless.

He adds a second finger.

I moan softly around Cole’s fork, the sound muffled by pasta. Cole shushes me gently. His hand finds my hair, fingers combing through the damp strands, and he leans in until his forehead is almost touching mine.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “So good. Taking it so well.”

From my left, Julian leans down. His mouth finds my shoulder where the silk has slipped, and he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the bare skin.

“I can scent how wet you are from here, Lia. The whole table can smell you. Your slick. Your heat. It’s fucking intoxicating,” he says, his lips warm and his breath hot against my neck.

August’s expression is full of hunger as he massages my feet and kisses them. I could see his hard cock through his pajama pants.

Ezra keeps working me with his fingers. Slow. Deliberate. Two fingers are deep inside me, thrusting slowly, his thumb circling my clit with maddening precision.

“Oh, oh,” I moan, about to orgasm, and suddenly he pulls back and eases the pressure on my clit. “No!”

He is not letting me come.

“Not yet,” he whispers against my hair. His voice is rough, strained, like he’s holding himself together by sheer force of will. “I have something special planned, omega. You’re going to wait for it.”

By the time Cole sets the fork down, my thighs are slick down to my knees. My hands are clenched into the silk of Ezra’s shirt, twisting the fabric between my fingers, and I am breathing in tiny, shallow gasps that don’t seem to bring enough air into my lungs. My pussy is pulsing around his fingers, clenching on nothing, slick running freely down my inner thighs and onto his lap.

Ezra slides his fingers out of me slowly.

The loss of them makes me whimper. My pussy clenches hard, empty, hungry, and slick gushes out of me in a warm rush that soaks the silk between my legs.