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fourteen

. . .

Mia

K ane’s tongue flicks against my clit as Finn and Jace kiss along my neck. My back arches off the bed as pleasure courses through my body. Three pairs of hands roam across my skin. It feels too right, too perfect, to have all of them touching me at once.

“Do you like this, little omega?” Kane growls against my inner thigh before diving back in, his tongue lapping at my dripping pussy.

“Yes,” I whimper, my hips bucking upward as I open my legs wider. “Please don’t stop.”

Finn’s lips travel from my neck to my breast, capturing my nipple between his teeth and tugging gently. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes me gasp. On my other side, Jace mirrors his actions, sucking my other nipple into his hot mouth.

“She tastes so fucking sweet,” Jace murmurs against my skin.

I should be embarrassed, being spread out like this for all three of them, but instead, I feel powerful. Wanted. It’s something I’ve never felt with Justin. A part of my brain whispers that this is wrong — that I shouldn’t want all three of them — but my body isn’t listening to reason .

Kane spreads my thighs wider, his strong hands gripping my flesh. “I need more,” he growls, and then his tongue pushes inside me, thick and insistent.

“Oh!” I cry out, the sensation of being stretched by his tongue overwhelming. My pussy clenches around the intrusion, desperate for more. For something thicker. Longer.

Four hands hold me down as Kane’s tongue fucks in and out of me, his nose occasionally bumping against my clit, his sideburns rubbing my center.

“Please,” I beg, though I’m not sure what I’m begging for. “Please, I need you!”

Kane pushes his tongue deeper, impossibly deep, stretching me in ways I didn’t know possible, and…

I jolt awake, my heart hammering in my chest and my pussy throbbing between my legs. For a moment, I’m disoriented, my mind still half-caught in the dream.

My throat feels like sandpaper, and my injured wrist aches dully where I must have rolled onto it in my sleep.

“Fuck,” I whisper into the darkness, pushing sweaty strands of hair from my forehead.

I sit up, trying to calm my breathing, but the ache between my legs won’t subside. The dream felt so real. I press my thighs together, but it does nothing to ease the empty ache.

Moonlight streams through the curtains, casting the unfamiliar room in silvery light. The bed they’ve given me is enormous, with silk sheets that feel cool against my overheated skin. The blanket, a rich gold color reminiscent of honey, has been kicked to the foot of the bed during my erotic dream.

Who keeps a fully furnished guest room with silk sheets? The furniture is all dark wood and expensive-looking, the kind of thing you’d see in a magazine, not in a house shared by three men .

Three very attractive, intense men who, for some reason, seem fascinated by me.

My wrist aches, and I realize I need to take my pain medication. Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, I see it’s two a.m.

Sighing, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab the orange prescription bottle, only to realize I don’t have any water.

Great . Now I have to venture out into the hallway of a house I barely know, trying not to wake three men who all make me horny with their mere presence.

I tiptoe to the door and crack it open, peering into the darkened hallway.

Silence. At least they seem to be asleep.

I step out, wearing nothing but the oversized t-shirt Kane lent me after my shower.

It falls mid-thigh, and I tug at the hem self-consciously as I make my way toward what I think is the kitchen.

The hardwood floors are cold beneath my bare feet as I navigate through the unfamiliar house. The kitchen is modern and sleek, with all stainless steel and dark countertops. I find a glass in one of the cabinets and fill it with cold water from the refrigerator door.

I unscrew the cap on my pain pills, shaking one into my palm before tossing it into my mouth and washing it down with a long sip of water. The cool liquid soothes my parched throat, and I take another drink before turning to head back to my room.

A noise sounds from somewhere down the hallway—a low, guttural moan.

I freeze, glass clutched in my hand, ears straining. There it is again, unmistakably the sound of someone in pleasure.

Curiosity overrides my better judgment, and I find myself moving toward the sound, my heart pounding in my chest. The door is cracked open, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway.

Another moan, louder this time. Male. Deep.

I should go back to my room. I should pretend I never heard anything. Instead, I inch closer to the door, telling myself I’ll take a quick peek to see who it is.

I peer through the crack, and my breath catches in my throat.

Finn is sitting on the edge of his bed, completely naked, his muscular body taut with tension. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, as his right hand works furiously up and down his cock. It’s thick and long, with a swollen head that glistens with precum in the soft lamplight.

But it’s what’s in his left hand that makes my pussy clench.

My missing pink lace underwear pressed against his nose as he inhales deeply with each stroke of his cock.

This was my underwear that disappeared from my laundry weeks ago, before I even properly met these men.

I’m suddenly reminded of Kane pocketing my drenched underwear.

I’m going to be out of underwear at this point.

“Mia,” he groans. The sound of my name on his lips sends butterflies straight to my core. “Fuck, Mia.”

I should be disgusted. I should be furious that he stole my underwear.

Instead, I’m transfixed, watching as his hand speeds up, his grip tightening around his cock. He’s sniffing my panties like it’s a drug, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

“Need you,” he grunts, his voice strained. “Need to be inside you.”

My nipples harden beneath Kane’s t-shirt, and I have to press my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building between them.

Yes, I need you, too, Finn . I’ve never seen anything so hot in my life. This quiet man coming undone at the mere scent of me is such a turn-on.

Finn’s movements become more frantic, his breathing harsh in the quiet room.

Then, with a low growl that weakens my knees, he wraps my underwear around his cock and strokes himself to completion.

Thick ropes of cum shoot from his tip, soaking the delicate lace, and he lets out a series of grunts that sound almost painful in their intensity.

“Mia,” he whispers again, his eyes still closed as he milks the last drops from his cock. “My omega.”

There it is again. That word. Omega .

Finn’s head suddenly snaps up, his nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. His gaze darts toward the door, and I stumble backward, nearly dropping my glass of water as I turn and flee down the hallway.

Back in my room, I close the door silently behind me, my heart hammering wildly. Did he see me? Did he know I was watching? The way his head snapped up as if he could smell the air felt almost animalistic.

I set my glass of water on the nightstand with trembling hands, my mind racing.

Finn likes me. Really likes me.

Enough to steal my underwear and masturbate while smelling it. And the dream I had about all three of them after Kane helped me shower last night is making my pussy throb uncontrollably. Is it possible all three of them are attracted to me? Plain, ordinary me?

The thought is too impossible to believe, and yet the evidence is mounting. And so is the ache between my legs.

I crawl back under the silk sheets, the memory of Finn’s pleasure-contorted face burned into my mind. I remember the way he wrapped my panties around his cock, the way he groaned my name, and my hand slides down my stomach .

I dip my fingers between my wet folds, circling my clit slowly at first, then with increasing pressure as I recall Finn’s muscular body, the impressive size of his cock, and the way he seemed to worship my scent.

“Finn,” I whisper into the darkness, my fingers working faster. I imagine it’s his hands touching me, his cock pushing into me, stretching me.

I push two fingers inside, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

No matter how many times I make myself come, I always feel a strange emptiness afterward, as if my body is waiting for something or someone to fill me.

I rub my clit frantically, fucking myself with my fingers, chasing release.

My belly clenches, and I bite the blanket to muffle my cries as my climax takes over. But I’m still unsatisfied, like an itch that’s been scratched but not quite in the right spot.

Catching my breath, reality crashes back. I’m staying in a stranger’s house, fantasizing about not one but three men I barely know. Tomorrow, I need to return to the apartment I share with Justin and figure out my next move.

Because no matter how good it felt to imagine Finn inside me, no matter how safe I feel here with these men, I can’t stay. This isn’t my life. I don’t belong here, in this beautiful house with these intense men who make me feel things I’ve never felt before.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to reality. But for tonight, I want to daydream about Finn and the way he called my name, replaying him in my mind as I drift to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache between my legs and the ghost of Kane’s hands still lingering on my skin. My ass feels pleasantly sore from last night’s shower.

I still can’t believe I squirted just from him playing with my ass, and I wonder if that was all real now.

Hell, I didn’t even know that was possible. The memory makes my cheeks flush as I stretch beneath the silk sheets, wondering how I’m supposed to face him this morning.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains tells me I’ve slept later than usual. My wrist throbs dully, reminding me of why I’m here in the first place.