by Jayce Carter
Kane took his lips away and leaned up to strip off his shirt. Tattoos covered his chest and his stomach. She only got a moment to see before he blanketed her with his solid body, before his weight trapped her and he latched his sinful lips to a single spot on her neck. He sucked hard, the skin stinging after a moment. She might have objected, but he chose then to slide his fingers forward, pressing one long, thick finger into her soaked hole. The action made his palm catch her clit, and her breathing labored.
She’d used her own fingers on herself before, even tried a toy or two, but it wasn’t the same. Those things had been extensions of herself. She’d know what she would do, how it would feel.
Kane’s fingers weren’t her own. When he twisted his wrist, dragging his knuckles against her tight walls, she couldn’t expect it. When he curled those fingers in to press against the front of her pussy, when her thighs twitched and closed around him from the shocking feeling, she couldn’t prepare. She wasn’t in control of any of it, and that reached a part of her that masturbation never could.
He released her neck and pressed a kiss to the spot that no doubt held his mark. “Fuck, your cunt feels good. It’s so fucking needy, ain’t it? Bet I could get my dick into you and knot you and you’d want more.”
She might have hated his words if they weren’t so true. Even the mention of his cock, the thought of how it would grow at the base, how it would lock them together and stretch her in a way nothing else could had made her tighten around his finger.
“Like that idea, huh?” He offered a lick up the outstretched column of her throat. “Well, you’re gonna have to be happy with my fingers, doll. Ain’t got time for fucking you the way you need it right now. You wanted this, been about begging for it, so I want to feel that pretty cunt of yours grip my fingers. I want to see you come because you’re that desperate.”
Her hands moved to his cheeks and pulled him down. She wanted his lips to hers when she came, wanted to taste him in whatever way she could, needed a connection beyond the way his finger fucked her.
He groaned, deep and masculine, as if the kiss was even better than being buried knuckle-deep in her pussy.
The world shorted out as she came, as all that tension snapped free, as everything crumbled down around her. It washed over in, spreading out from her core until every muscle in her froze, overwhelmed.
Even as it happened, his lips never stopped, gentle against hers as his fingers dragged out each sensation. When he finally pulled from her, she whimpered at the closeness and sensitivity.
His dark chuckle didn’t reassure her. “You’ll look amazing stuck on a knot, doll. So sensitive like that? You’ll squirm, and you’ll cry, and you’ll come over and over again, but you won’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.” He nuzzled her throat, another lick to the still stinging spot he’d marked.
When he pulled back, his gaze still ravenous, Tiffany got her first good look at him.
The colorful ink spread over his chest mirrored his arms, but was more tightly packed, covering each tiny inch of space. When she looked closer, she frowned.
Running on the edges of the tattoos, where colors changed and pictures shifted from one to another, rough skin sat. Without thinking about it, she reached out.
Her fingers stroked over one, raised and uneven. Scars.
The more she stared, the more she realized how many sat on his chest—some thin, some thicker, some short and some nearly a foot long. They hid in the ink and the beauty of the pictures.
The moment she touched him, he jerked back. All that hunger in his eyes drifted away and left something cold and empty staring back.
“What happened?”
He reached for his shirt, yanking it on so hard she feared the seams might give. “Nothing.”
“You’ve got scars.”
“I fucking said nothing!” Waves of anger rolled off him, the seething something she’d never seen in him, never heard in his voice. He stood and panted as if trapped, as if she were the enemy trapping him.
A phone went off, and Kane turned his back to grab his cell off the table. “Hello?”
Tiffany slunk off the bed, movement slow and unsure, two things she never was. She slid her jeans on, then slipped her feet into her shoes. In the pocket of her jeans, she found her phone and the missed messages from Kieran.
“Yeah, she’s fine. Nothing. Fuck you, asshole. Why don’t you come get her, huh?” Kane’s side of the conversation came rushed and angry.
He still hadn’t turned back to her when he ended the call and slid the phone into his back pocket. “Kieran’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
The idea of sitting in the room with him turned her stomach. Kane still hadn’t faced her, still wasn’t talking to her. His quick withdraw made her uneasy and empty. After something she’d never done before, with her body out of her control, she felt adrift.
“I’ll wait downstairs.”
He turned but her gaze stayed down. “The fuck you will. You’re not sitting out there when someone might have been after you. You’ll sit your fucking ass down until Kieran gets here.”
She went to move past him. “I don’t want to spend another minute here.”
He took a step to the side, blocking her path. “Don’t be stupid, doll.”
Tiffany planted her hands on his chest and shoved, even though it only moved her backward. “Don’t you call me that! I’m not staying here, not when it smells like sex.”
“So, you regretting what we did? Only matter of time before that happened, I guess.”
“Fuck you, Kane. You’re the one who all but leaped away the second it was over.”
His body didn’t move, and all she could see in her mind was the way his eyes had grown so cold. “Look at me, Tiff.” His voice softened, coaxing.
She shook her head, arms wrapped around herself, heart pounding as if it hadn’t quite come down from her orgasm. “I want to leave.”
A sigh, but he moved aside. “Fine. Ain’t gonna force you, ain’t gonna stop you.”
She said nothing else as she rushed from the room, from the way their scents had mingled together, the way she’d thought she had something for a moment.
She sat on the bottom step of the lobby of his building, waiting for Kieran. Anger faded away until hurt filled the space, but she only wrapped her arms tighter around herself as she told herself she didn’t care.
Even as the weight of Kane’s gaze, the way she knew he watched over her from somewhere, pissed though she was, reassured her, she swore she didn’t care.
Caring was too painful.
* * * *
Kieran glowered at the dark ceiling.
Tiffany had showered when they’d gotten back then retreated to her room.
They hadn’t spoken since he’d found her in the lobby of Kane’s building. The moment he’d spotted her, his frustration had grown at the idea of her out there alone. Only spotting Kane at the top of the stairs, watching over her, kept him from taking it out on the other alpha.
The look on her face said something was wrong, but the moment he’d spotted the mark left by Kane, he’d spent all his focus on not reacting.
He didn’t own her.
Maybe if I say that enough, I’ll believe it.
Worse? Upset hung on her. He didn’t think Kane would have hurt her, but something had happened. If her face hadn’t showed it, her silence would have.
Tiffany hadn’t done silence well since he’d known her, not unless she was angry.
He should say something. He should ask her what was wrong, see if he could help, talk it out. The problem appeared to revolve around sex with another alpha, and thinking about that sent Kieran’s temper slipping, but he couldn’t let that affect him.
He’d taken her under his protection. He’d agreed to care for her, to watch over her, and that meant more than his jealousy. It had to.
The next morning, he’d talk to her. He would sit her down, talk it out, resolve whatever it was. They had thre
e-hundred-sixty-three days left together, and they couldn’t last with this sort of tension between them.
Not to forget, he had to speak to her about the car. When he’d arrived, he’d found no one in the parking lot. He didn’t doubt she’d seen someone, only that it had been anything more than coincidence. Black sedans were common enough. She’d done the right thing calling him, but all that had happened had to weigh on her. After what Randy had done, anyone would worry, would see danger that wasn’t there. He’d have to ensure she felt safe, perhaps start the self-defense sooner, anything to help her not to worry. She deserved to feel safe, and while he could keep her safe, it wasn’t the same thing.
Just as he prepared to roll over, to force himself to sleep, his door creaked open. In the doorway stood a small figure, obscured by the dark hallway.
She hesitated there, her fingers curled around the door frame, tension thick.
Guilt pulled at him. She had enough problems in her life without dealing with him.
“Come on, girl,” he said.
The bed dipped as she crawled in, but she didn’t leave space between them. Instead, she curled around him, placing her head on his naked chest, her soft hair spreading out over his skin.
So much skin teased him, it was clear she hadn’t worn much. A thin tank top had her nipples pressed to his arm, her breasts flattening. The blanket over his lap meant he had no idea what she wore on her lower half, but he’d bet it wasn’t much more.
Best not to think about it. As if I’m not already.
Kieran curled his arm around her, pulling her closer. “You okay?”
Her cheek stroked his chest, her warm breath falling against his skin. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“You’ve had a couple of hard days. It makes sense sleep might not come so easily.” He stroked his fingers over her bare arm. “Is it about what happened earlier?”
“With the car?”
“No, afterward, with Kane.”
She didn’t answer right away, only shifted closer. A sigh blew warm breath over him. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk about that.”
“You’re living here. You’re upset. That’s all there is to it, so tell me what happened.”
She wrapped her arm around him tighter. “I’m tired of having things slip away. Every time I think I’ve got something, I can’t get my hands around it.” She paused, then slid her leg over his as though she still couldn’t get close enough. “What is it about me? I know I’m a lot to handle, but is that it?”
He brought his hand over to brush the spot where the hickey was. “Seems like you’re not too much.”
“Yeah, men are interested until they get an offer. Is that it? Am I too forward? Is there a smell I’m unaware of?”
Her spiral had him ready to laugh at the insecurities. Instead, he caught her chin, lifted her face toward him, and brushed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, teasing. Without the frustration from before, with her so sweet and trusting against him, he tried to use the kiss to reassure her.
She leaned up, shifting forward to deepen the kiss. Even so, it stayed slow, leisurely. She squirmed, messing with the blanket until she could get beneath it. It left them with nothing but their clothing between them, and yeah, she’d worn only underwear on her bottom half.
Her leg maneuvered between his, her thigh wedged against his cock through his boxers.
He normally wouldn’t have worn anything to bed, but since she slept in the house, he hadn’t wanted to risk it. With her warm thigh against him, he was both glad for it and cursing it.
She shifted, moving her leg to the outside of his hip to leave her straddling his lap, the two scraps of fabric between them.
Kieran slid his fingers into her hair and used it to break the kiss. “You sure?”
“If you turn me down, I swear…”
He moved his hands to her hips, thumbs sliding below the waist of her underwear to press at her sharp hip bones. “Take what you want, girl.”
A soft shudder ran through her, her hands on his shoulders as she lifted her body up. Her hips rolled, grinding on his lap. It made his cock nestle against the heat of her slit.
She made a hell of a sight above him, thin shirt doing nothing to hide her breasts as they swayed with her movements.
It wasn’t the tight fit her cunt would be, but the wetness that spread from her underwear through his boxers had him ready to come already. He gritted his teeth and refused, wanting her to have what she needed, first. I can damn well wait.
She arched her back, a lusty moan leaving her lips. It pressed her full breasts out farther, and Kieran couldn’t resist.
He cupped her breast, noting the way it fit into his hand, the nipple pebbling into his palm. He closed his fingers until he could toy with the point through the fabric, tightening to add a delicious sting. Meanwhile, he moved his hand from her hip to her ass, grasping to guide her hips as she rode him. He rubbed over the skin of her ass he’d bet was still sore.
Sure enough, her blunt little nails dug into his chest, and she ground harder against him. It made him want to offer more, to show her how much she could take. He wanted her to discover what she enjoyed, when she needed.
Kieran was almost there, so he released her breast, caught the back of her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. Gone was the sweetness of before, drowned away by their need. She didn’t return the kiss, her attention locked on the movement of her hips, on the way his cock stroked her hardened clit through their scraps of clothing.
He rubbed her ass, using it to pull her harder against him.
She came with a gasp and a shudder, eyes closing, lips parted, hips still rocking with barely-there motions.
Kieran broke the kiss to press one to her throat, and before he could think better of it, he’d bitten down on the same spot as the hickey. That set him off, the sense of possession when he covered Kane’s mark with his own as he came.
She squirmed from the bite, and her cunt pulsed against his shaft even without him being inside her. It made him wonder how it would feel to be buried deep inside her when she did that.
He released the bite, leaving a teasing lick like an apology, or it might have been if he felt the least bit sorry.
Tiffany collapsed down, her body draped over him, her chest rising and falling roughly. She pulled her head up enough to peer at him. “So, no smell?” Even in the dim light, the quirk of her lips showed.
“No smell.” He laughed before letting her settle against him.
She kept that leg between his, her weight braced on him, body sprawled out over him. He ignored how his cock ached and pressed hard against her, and the scent of her cunt. He could get off some other time.
Instead, he shifted back on the pillow, easing into the sensation of her against him, the warmth, the way it made a part of him that usually remained tense to relax.
He stroked his fingers through her hair mindlessly as he closed his eyes, as her breathing evened out and she drifted off.
Maybe he’d fought it too hard? Maybe he’d convinced himself it couldn’t work, but maybe he’d written it off too fast.
Was there a future between them?
Chapter Eight
Tiffany shoved her phone into her purse. Kane had sent her messages, but she’d ignored them all.
He wanted to apologize, at least in the only way he did it. He’d never cared for saying sorry, but instead liked to make a joke as if they could move on without discussing the issue.
She didn’t know how to move on, though. It was the way he’d retreated, the way he’d pulled away and snapped. Whatever those scars meant, whatever they’d come from, he curled around the story like a wolf protecting a wound.
So, despite the way he’d tried to coax her into talking to him, she’d refused to play.
She didn’t know what to say, anyway. Had she ever felt so conflicted? So confused by the three men who filled her mind?
She’d lost herself in Kieran’s strength, in his steady hands and dr
ugging kiss. He’d been there when she hadn’t had anything, stepped in to help her when he hadn’t had a reason to. The silver at his temples, those dark brown eyes that seemed to know everything made her want to give in. She wanted to surrender, and somehow, she knew she could with him.
Kane had befriended her when she had been at her lowest, and he’d never failed her. That bond had only grown when she’d met him and gotten a look at his rough appearance. While he doubted his appeal, she’d appreciated every tattoo, the way his muscles stood out without any fat above them. He was like fire, crackling around her, like a wild thing she wanted to touch.
And Marshall? It was new, unexplored, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him, either. He was reserved, careful, thoughtful, and it made her want to come closer. Where Kieran made her want to retreat and be chased, and Kane made her want to tease and tempt, she wanted to ease closer to Marshall. She wanted to see where it would go, wanted to play the game with him. It seemed so uncomplicated.
The one thing she didn’t want to do was choose. She didn’t want to pursue one and not the others, and that made guilt eat at her. She felt as though something was wrong, as if she was cheating each of them out of what they deserved.
Claire had ended up with three alphas, but they’d been a trio already. She’d added to a group of alphas looking for single omega. That was a different situation than three alphas who barely knew each other at the best of times and actively hated each other the rest.
Should she back away? Stop going after what she wanted? What do I even want?
As soon as she asked herself, she pulled her phone out and hit the number she’d saved.
A few rings before Marshall answered. “Dr. Brown.”
“Hello, Dr. Brown, I have a serious medical problem.”
“What’s wrong? How can I help?” His voice kept the professional tone, slightly distracted. What was he doing? Clearly, he hadn’t recognized her voice, yet, giving her time to play. She did love to play.
“I’ve been sweating, my heart is racing, and I’m feeling faint.”
