Lights, Camera, Omega - Page 105

“It may take me a second to get both of you inside,” I whisper huskily, holding their twin hardnesses upright,Julian’s head against my slick pussy lips.

Julian lets out a low rumbling sound as I sink down onto his length until I can feel the tip of Sol’s cock against my dripping slit.

“Fuck, Daphne—Jules,” Sol gasps as he pushes inside me—his cockhead running along the veiny underside of Julian’s shaft inside my tight heat.

I can only manage a wordless whine as I slide down their dual cocks, their twin girth stretching me—Julian’s monster pressing against my cervix.

All three of us writhe against one another—Sol and Julian moving deep inside me—their lips on my neck and shoulders, my breasts as I grind against them.

I can hardly keep track of who’s hands and lips belong to who—a rough thumb finding its way to my throbbing clit as I ride Sol and Julian for dear life.

“Sol, please,” Julian pants—his voice breaking the near silence.

“Give us your knot,” he whines, his hips bucking beneath me as Sol’s knot strains at my entrance—just above Julian’s balls.

“I c-can’t take much more before I—” Julian’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t need to continue his plea.

With a growl and a hard upward roll of his hips, Sol’s knot is inside me.

Sol’s thick knot kneading Julian’s cock—already clutched deep inside me against Sol’s hardness, must have been enough to push him over the edge. I can feel his hot seed spill inside me as he shudders against our tessellation of bodies.

“Jules, Daphne—I love you,” Sol manages to bite out haltingly before he too empties his pearly load inside me.

It’s more than I can withstand—my trembling muscles milk Julian and Sol’s cocks—Sol’s throbbing knot–as I cum hard on their twin hardnesses.

The three of us collapse against the back of the sofa—entirely out of breath.

Ifeel like my stomach is full of live bees or possibly broken glass; like my heart is pumping battery acid.

The past forty-eight hours feel like some kind of waking nightmare. Pack Silver has been in somewhat of a tailspin since I promised to take the pack on this so-called ‘trip-of-truth,’ to show and tell all the secret skeletons I’ve been keeping in my closet.

As if things weren’t complicated enough, there had been the issue of Daphne accepting a film role that would place her on the opposite side of the globe from the rest of us for a better part of the year.

Magnus had ended up storming off, leaving his pack to tend his goddamn ego, just like I had when he’d put pressure on me for bonding Daphne early against our pack agreement.

Since I intimately understood Magnus and what he was feeling, I followed him back to his office at Panopticon Pictures and cornered him, just like Sol had cornered me in my studio.

We had ended up talking until almost five in the morning, trying to undo the damage we’d done to each other—to the other members of our pack.

All cried out and bone weary, the pair of us dragged ourselves back to Cypress House a little after sunrise—many arrangements made, many dollars spent—but at least now we had a plan.

We tumbled into bed together, exhausted—just as I received the confirmation text that the upsettingly large floral arrangement we had sent to Tern’s Nest had arrived, the little cream-colored envelope containing Magnus’ apology note winking back at me from the grainy cell phone camera photo.

It’s the last thing I see before I drift off to sleep.

Sol called me after he and Julian helped Daphne wrestle the enormous cascade of cream and tea roses in from the front steps. I can hear the crash of waves in the background as we weakly offer our hellos—he must have stepped out to the porch in order to get a bit of space from Daphne before he made the call, no doubt. The thought stung, even if it wasn’t very surprising.

“How were the flowers received?” I ask tentatively.

“Well enough,” Sol heaves an exasperated sigh.

There’s a silence that stretches between us until Sol finally breaks it.

“Are you two really sure that it’s such a good idea to push up this little getaway of yours?” he treads carefully, as if he may fall through thin ice.

He has every right to be wary, but it burns me all the same.

“I’m going to need you to trust me Sol. I’m going to need all of you to trust me—Magnus too,” I assure him calmly, even though my heart rate continues to skyrocket.