Page 190 of Unmarked
His cock is thick, flushed, and hard enough to make my mouth water.
“Use me,” I murmur. “If you need to. If that’s how you can handle it. But don’teverthink I didn’t choose this.”
“I should punish you for that mouth,” he snarls.
“You should thank me for it,” I purr, spitting into my palm and wrapping it around him. “You’re welcome.”
His control fractures. Just a crack, but I see it all the same.
And I love it.
“You’re playing with fire, Rhea,” he hisses.
I lean in, all defiant smirk and residual post-knot glow.
“Then burn with me.”
His hand tangles in my hair and yanks my head back. And yes, my breath stutters, my thighs twitch, and I might still be vibrating from the full-body religious experience of Ash’s knot still locked inside me -
But I laugh.
Because honestly, at this point, what else is there to do?
Lucian looks down. His gaze drags over my flushed skin, my come-slicked thighs, the very obvious fact that I’m still stuffed full of another man like a Thanksgiving turkey.
“You’re messy,” he mutters. “Used,” he adds for dramatic flair, like he’s trying to insult me with facts.
I tilt my chin. “And you still want me.”
His nostrils flare.
“I can smell it,” he bites out. “Even through the knot. Even with his scent all over you.”
My thighs twitch again. Rude of them.
“You’re turned on,” he says, voice going all low and villain-sexy. “Not just from him. From being caught.”
Okay, now that’s just rudeandtrue.
Ash’s hand tightens where it rests on my thigh. Still knotted in me. Still present. Still entirely Ash.
Silent, coiled, and deeply, deeply annoyed.
“You like being the center of us,” Lucian continues, practically purring. “You like how it feels to have all of us orbiting you.”
I don’t deny it. Why would I? I’m not even pretending at this point.
I am the chaos. I am the storm.
I am the omega who made four alphas lose their minds, and somehow, I’m still upright.
Lucian uses his grip on my hair to tilt my head like I’m a porcelain doll that needs reprogramming.
“I think it’s time I take what you haven’t given anyone else.”
His thumb brushes my lip. It’s possessive. Dramatic.
Kind of hot, kind of annoying.
