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EMIEL WAS KNOTTINGMia, and the way that knowledge curled through my veins like warm molasses felt like being high... like the finest gangland drugs, only without the crash that always came afterward.
Sweat trickled down my bare chest and back. I’d already come twice. Once, an internal orgasm with Nat pounding away inside me while Byron sat back on the couch, directing me to slide my fist up and down my own cock. He controlled my rhythm with his gravelly voice, ordering me to stop whenever it looked like I was about to spurt. Then, the second time with my condom-wrapped dick buried deep in Nat’s ass, while Byron teased my passage with a knotted dildo—sliding it back and forth past my stretched rim, but never allowing me to clamp down on it.
Emiel had held it together through my first climax; god alone knew how. But I felt him blow his load at the same time I shuddered apart beneath the clench of Nat’s ass. The feedback loop between us left me feeling like I was floating above my body.
My teeth were buried in Nat’s shoulder. I couldn’t taste blood, but there was probably going to be one hell of a bruise.
“FuckingChrist,” Nat muttered into a couch cushion. “Someone wake me up in a year or two for work, please.”
By rights, I should have been done for the night, too—even if Byronhadn’tlet me have the dildo’s knot, the bastard. But the hum of Emiel’s pleasure was still buzzing in the deepest part of my reptile brain, and the feeling of dizzy, disconnected lightness was addictive.
“More,” I growled into salty skin. I wasn’t sure whatmoreshould look like, only that I needed it.
“Oh,you’renot done yet, even if he is,” Byron promised. Or was it a threat? “Can Emiel still feel you? Because I’ve got a point to prove to that selfish asshole, and I’m not finished proving it.” The tip of the dildo traced down the length of my spine, hot from my body and wet with my juices.
I shivered and pulled out of Nat. Even though I tried to be careful about it, he still groaned and twitched as my dick slipped free.
“Prove it, then.” I tied off the used condom and tossed it into the trash, barely recognizing my own voice. The imaginary drug flowing through my veins made me brave... made me stupid in all the best ways. Without it, I would never have turned to Byron and said, “I want to tie you to the bed and fuck you.”
Both Byron and Nat went utterly still. Well,Byronwent still, anyway. Nat, who’d seemed to be out for the count, twisted around to brace himself on one elbow and gape at me in surprise.
It was a reasonable reaction. Everyone in the house knew I didn’t fuck alphas outside of my heats. Except, of course, that Ididnow. I’d ridden Emiel into oblivion on multiple occasions while he was safely handcuffed to the bed. His kink and mine, histraumaand mine, meshing seamlessly to bring both of us pleasure despite our fucked-up pasts.
Byron was still staring at me. “You... what?”
“You heard me,” I told him. “I want your knot. But for now, I need you tied up before I take it. Are you going to let me do it?”
If I’d been less drunk on the thrumming mating bond, I probably would have cared more that I was dropping a megaton bomb right in the middle of Byron’s alpha insecurities. Maybe he thought he kept them hidden, but I saw inside him.
A coward, even though he was anything but.
Not alpha enough.Not dominant enough to hold his own in the pack.
And here I was, asking him to play the submissive role to an omega, while a male beta watched it happen, no less.
“I tie other people up,” Byron said. “Other people don’t tiemeup.”
“I’m not other people,” I told him.
He seemed to think about that for a moment.
“No,” he agreed slowly. “You aren’t.”
“Is this about what you and Mia have been getting up to with Emiel?” Nat asked, somewhat unexpectedly.
Byron’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I narrowed mine right back at him, as the urge to shock him overtook me. “Emiel’s upstairs as we speak, handcuffed to his bed, wearing a ball gag, and knot-deep in Mia.”
Nat made a tiny, choked noise.
Byron blinked. “Is he, now?”
Nat recovered enough to say, “He told me he started doing it so he wouldn’t have to worry about scaring the omegas—or biting them—in the heat of the moment.”
“And if you everdarewave that fact in his face, I will cut off your balls and feed them to you,” I added helpfully.
Byron’s face looked like a computer screen locked in the spinning wheel of death.