Page 211 of Knot So Lucky

I want to make this last forever…

I drag my mouth up right behind her ear, voice dropping to a threat and a promise at once.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen, Trouble. I’m going to spread out right here, and you’re going to show me what that mouth can do while Luca fucks you from behind. Think you can handle that? Think you can take both of us at once, Omega?”

She doesn’t even pretend to play coy.

She nods, desperate, wild-eyed. Her whimper is so raw and high-pitched I swear it could shatter carbon fiber. She wants this—the submission, the attention, being the center of a stormmade of two Alphas who’d risk everything just to see her fall apart.

God, I could get addicted to this.

I manhandle her into position, pawing at her shoulders and guiding her down between my legs. I drop back into the couch like a king—no, like a fucking god—and spread my thighs, letting my cock hang heavy and full in front of her. I don’t bother hiding how hard I am. Why hide anything? This is what the world wants to see—this is the real story, the one nobody but us will ever understand.

Aurora crawls up on all fours, hands trembling a little, but more from anticipation than any kind of fear.

Luca’s behind her, still dazed, shirt tugged up, tattoos gleaming in the low light.

The room itself is a hallucination—purple and cyan and flashes of sickly gold rolling off the walls, washing over our bodies in dirty, moving shadows. The whole place smells like sex and pride and the way a finish line tastes when you know you stole victory out from under your rival’s nose. Pillows everywhere—blue, black, some metallic, all soft and sticky with sweat and glitter. If someone opened the door right now, they’d see a pit stop unlike anything in the rulebook.

I fist the base of my cock, tapping it against her cheek just to see if she’ll flinch.

She doesn’t. She wants it.

Needs it more than air.

She wraps both hands around me—palms slick, grip better than any race glove I’ve ever worn—and leans in, licking a stripe up the underside like she’s testing the limits of what I’ll tolerate before I lose my mind.

A challenge. A dare.

She sucks me in slow, lips sliding down my length with perfect, wet pressure, and the sound—holy fuck, the sound—makes me want to howl.

Behind her, Luca is regaining his composure. I see him lining up, hands on Aurora’s hips, fingers digging in so hard I’m genuinely surprised there’s not blood.

He slides into her in one, brutal stroke.

Aurora moans around my cock—deep, shattering, the vibration going straight up my spine. My thighs flex, my balls draw up tight, and I swear if this goes on too long I might actually pass out.

But I refuse to be the first to break.

I look over Aurora’s head—catch Luca’s eye. The bastard grins, slow and mean, and begins to fuck into her with a pace that’s instantly ruthless, like he wants to split her in two. Every thrust rocks her forward, drives her mouth deeper on my cock.

She takes it. Takes everything.

Mouth tight, tongue working, throat swallowing me down again and again. I bury a hand in her hair, holding her steady, using her for leverage as I start to move my hips in counter-rhythm to Luca’s. I want maximum sensation—I want every muscle in her jaw to remember who’s in charge here.

The world narrows to heat and filth and the sound of her choking sweetly on my cock while getting fucked from behind by an Alpha who only knows one gear:destruction.

God, it’s better than any race victory, any podium, any champagne shower.

Aurora’s eyes water, but she powers through, locking in on my gaze every time she draws back for breath. She *loves* this. Loves being used, loves the way we compete to see who can break her first. She’s the only Omega I’ve ever known who can take this much and beg for more.

My scent is everywhere, riding high over even the sharp bite of Luca’s.

Burnt cedar, coffee, raw amber, and between all that—her. Smoked vanilla and gasoline, cut with the high sweetness of Omega slick and the promise of surrender.

I let myself enjoy the show.

I keep my hands in her hair, feeding her my cock in long, greedy strokes, while Luca ramps up behind her—his hips slapping against her ass, the sound echoing off the lazy furniture like a starter pistol. Every time she makes a sound, he answers with a sharp thrust or a filthy word—“Take it, Omega, take all of it, let them know who you belong to.” She doesn’t resist. She never did.