Page 62 of The Florist and Her Alphas

Ezra brings his fingers to his mouth. In full view of the table, of his brothers, of me, he licks them clean. His tongue drags slowly over each digit, collecting my slick, and the sight of it makes my pussy clench so hard I cry out.

“My brothers need dinner now,” he says, his voice dark and certain. “A proper dinner.”

Then his hands are on my hips, and he’s lifting me off his lap.

One smooth motion, and I’m on my back on the walnut table, the silk robe falling open, my breasts bare to the candlelight, my thighs spread wide, my pussy exposed and dripping slick onto the polished wood.

My clit twitches hard.

I can see my pink, swollen, visible nub between my folds, pulsing with my heartbeat, and I can see the brothers watching it. I know they’re watching my pussy clenching like crazy, watching the slick bubble at my entrance, watching a slow, thick droplet form at my hole and begin to slide down toward my ass.

They lean in.

All four of them. At once.

The first tongue is Cole’s. Flat and hard against my clit, sucking, and I scream—a ragged, broken sound that echoes off the ceiling. His mouth seals over my nub, his tongue wiggling against it, and the vibration sends shockwaves through my hips.

Ezra’s tongue finds my pussy hole. He pushes inside, deep, his tongue spearing into my channel, stretching me open, and I feel every ridge of it against my inner walls. His hands grip my thighs, holding them wide, and his mouth is hungry, desperate, sucking at my entrance like he’s starving.

Julian’s tongue circles my asshole. Wet, flat strokes around the tight ring of muscle, and the dual sensation of Ezra’s tongue in my pussy, and Julian’s on my ass makes my back arch off the table. Slick bubbles at both holes, thick and warm, and when it drips down my inner thigh, August is there, his mouth suctioning against my skin, sucking the slick up with a groan so loud I feel it vibrate through my pelvis.

“Oh god,” I sob. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

A pair of lips, Cole’s, I think, suction around my asshole. Hard. Pulling, sucking the slick out of me, and the sensation is so intense, so filthy, so good that I thrash against the table, my hips bucking, my hands gripping the tablecloth.

Another pair of lips suctions my pussy. His mouth seals over my entrance, and he sucks, hard, pulling my slick into his mouth with a groan that I feel against my clit. Two tongues, August and Julian, lick my pussy folds, long, flat strokes from hole to clit, gathering slick, lapping at me like men possessed.

The suction increases. Ezra sucks harder. Cole sucks harder. Their mouths are sealed over my holes, pulling, and the pressure builds low in my belly, hot and relentless, climbing faster than I can control.

I’m going to come. I’m going to⁠—

“It’s too much!” I gasp out, but Julian’s hands are on my thighs, holding them open. Ezra’s grip is iron. I try to close my legs, begging, sobbing, and they don’t let me. They keep me spread wide, their mouths working me, sucking, licking, and the orgasm builds and builds until it breaks.

I squirt.

Hard.

A gush of slick floods Ezra’s mouth, spills past his lips, runs down my thighs. My pussy pulses, clenching on nothing, and I squirt again, a warm rush that August catches with his tongue, lapping it up from my legs with hungry, desperate strokes.

Moans of shame tear out of me.

They keep sucking, keep licking, Cole’s mouth on my asshole pulling slick out of me in thick, warm pulses, Ezra’s tongue deep in my pussy, Julian and August working my folds on either side.

The orgasm goes on and on. Wave after wave, my pussy clenching, slick gushing, my thighs shaking so hard the table creaks beneath me. I am making sounds I have never made in my life—broken, ragged, desperate—and the alphas are groaning against me, drinking me down, their hands holding me open, their mouths claiming every drop.

When they finally release me, my pussy is throbbing. My asshole is clenching on nothing. Slick is pooled on the table beneath me, on my thighs, on the brothers’ chins, and I am gasping, my chest heaving, my vision blurry with tears and candlelight.

“So good,” groans August, licking every drop.

“Like a heaven of roses,” says Julian.

“Our sexy beautiful omega,” says Cole, and my face heats up even though I’m trying to come down from my super intense orgasm.

Ezra lifts me off the table.

His arms are under my knees and my back, and he gathers me against his chest. My head falls against his shoulder, and I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt—fast, hard, pounding against my cheek.

“You’re going to take my cock very easily tonight,” he says against my hair. His voice is rough, strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You’re so open. So wet. So ready for me.”