Page 67 of Omega on Fire
Beaux's rhythm behind me is relentless, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through my body. The table creaks beneath us, a symphony of wood and breathless gasps.
"Look at you," Beaux growls, his voice thick with passion. "Taking us so well, Harley."
I moan around Joker, unable to form words as sensation overwhelms me. My fingers grip the edge of the table, knuckles white with the effort to ground myself in the storm of pleasure.
"Char—Charlotte," Joker gasps, his normally composed voice breaking. "I'm close, I'm?—"
His words dissolve into a strangled cry as his back arches. The way he says my name resonates like a blessing. I feel him pulse against my tongue, his release warm and surprisingly sweet. I swallow instinctively, drawing another broken sound from him.
Beaux's pace falters momentarily, his fingers digging into my hips. "Fuck, that's hot," he mutters, watching Joker come undone.
I lift my head, gasping for breath as Joker collapses back against the table, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes are dazed, pupils blown wide as he reaches up to touch my face with trembling fingers.
"Beautiful," he whispers, thumb tracing my lower lip.
Beaux pulls me upright then, my back against his chest as he continues to move within me. One hand snakes around to cup my breast, the other slides lower, finding where we're joined. The first touch ofhis fingers against my oversensitive flesh has me crying out.
"Tell me," he growls in my ear, his lip ring cool against my heated skin. "Who do you belong to, Harlequin?"
The question resonates through me, deeper than physical pleasure. This is what I've been running from, what I've feared and craved in equal measure. Belonging. Connection. Pack.
"You," I gasp as his fingers circle my clit with devastating precision. "All of you."
"Say it again," he demands, teeth grazing my earlobe.
"I belong to you," I pant, eyes finding Teagan where he stands watching us, his gaze intense. "To all of you."
Moses moves closer, his hand replacing Beaux's on my breast. "And we belong to you," he says solemnly, the promise in his words making my heart stutter.
"No turning back," Teagan adds, his voice deep and certain. "Not now."
"Not ever," Beaux agrees against my neck.
The realization crashes over me along with building pleasure. This isn't just sex. This is a claiming, a bonding, a promise being written on my skinwith their hands and mouths. I'm theirs and they're mine, and whatever comes next, we'll face it together.
"Yes," I breathe, the simple word carrying the weight of my acceptance. "Yes."
Beaux's movements grow more urgent, his breathing harsh against my ear. "Cum for me, Harley," he commands, fingers working faster. "Let me feel you claim me too."
The tension that's been building breaks like a dam giving way. My third orgasm tears through me with such force that I scream, my body convulsing so violently that Beaux has to hold me upright as I shatter around him. Stars burst behind my eyelids, pleasure so intense it borders on pain radiating from my core to the very tips of my fingers and toes.
I'm vaguely aware of Beaux finding his own release, his forehead pressed against my shoulder as he pulses inside me, adding his claim to Teagan's. His arms tighten around me as aftershocks ripple through both our bodies, keeping me from collapsing completely.
"I got you," he murmurs against my skin. "I got you, Harley."
When he finally withdraws, I nearly crumple, my legs refusing to support me. Multiple sets of hands catch me, easing me gently down onto the table. I laythere, boneless and trembling, unable to form coherent thoughts as the four men surround me.
"I think we broke her," Joker chuckles, though his voice carries a note of genuine concern as he brushes sweat-damp hair from my forehead.
Moses hums his agreement, his warm hand rubbing soothing circles on my thigh. "She needs water. And rest."
I try to respond, to assure them I'm fine, but my mouth won't cooperate. I'm floating somewhere beyond language, my body humming with satisfaction and utter exhaustion. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy.
"I'll get her something to drink," Teagan says, his voice sounding faraway.
Strong arms slide beneath me, Beaux's, I think, recognizing the whiskey and black pepper scent that envelops me as he lifts me from the table.
"Come on, Harlequin," he murmurs. "Let's get you home."
