Page 132 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

The two of them overwhelm me. There is no empty space, no way for thoughts or the outside world to creep in. Their voices surround me: Wes telling me to take what I asked for, Roman praising every sound I fail to contain, Wes demanding my eyes, Roman telling me how beautiful I look when I stop guarding every reaction.

The stars above the window seem to vibrate with my pulse. When the next orgasm takes me, it is sharper than the first. I fold forward, but Roman catches me against his chest. Wes’s hands hold my thighs open as pleasure tears through me, too much and exactly enough.

My name moves between them. Scarlet from Roman, warm and reverent. Omega from Wes, rough with possession. The combination breaks me open.

They don’t stop teasing me, building me up and then bringing me back down before I go over the edge. Each time it pushes me higher and higher. I stop counting orgasms and float in a never-ending current of pleasure. I lose track of which mouth draws each sound from me.

Roman’s voice turns soft and filthy against my lips, telling me what he wants to watch Wes do, then telling Wes how my body reacts to hearing it. Wes answers with praise that feels like an order. My body follows every word. Each crest arrives slower than the last, drawn out between Wes and Roman until I’m pleading without caring who hears. I come again and again, held from both sides.

When Wes finally lifts his head, I’m limp against Roman. He brushes hair from my face. “How are you?”

“Ask me when my legs stop speaking in tongues.”

Wes wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking entirely too satisfied. “We’re not finished.”

I blink at him.

Wes leans over me and kisses Roman first. The sight catches in my chest before their mouths even meet. Wes grips the back of Roman’s neck. Roman opens for him, one hand remaining around my waist while the other rises to Wes’s shoulder. Hunger passes between them, familiar and practiced, and watching it sends a fresh pulse through my exhausted body. I feel it as much as I see it, Wes’s hand fisting Roman’s hair, Roman’s groan vibrating through my back where he’s still pressed against me.

“Watching you two is so hot, it’s unfair,” I say, breathless.

“You started it,” Roman says against Wes’s mouth.

Wes follows his gaze. “Are you gonna be a greedy little omega?”

“I have been repeatedly encouraged.” My purr rises, the desire and love between them setting off the sound from my chest. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

Wes’s curse comes low and filthy and entirely involuntary. He kisses Roman again, deep and quick, before he shoves out of his jeans. He slicks himself through me once, then drives home in a single deep stroke that steals my voice completely. His forehead drops to mine, his breath unsteady. “You take me so good.”

Roman’s hand slides down to where Wes is buried inside me. “I want to feel exactly how deep he is,” he says and traces the stretch of me with two fingers. He presses in alongside him until I shatter again, helpless, just from being that full and that wanted by both of them at once.

Wes fucks me through it, slow and devastating, the swell of his knot catching at my entrance with every stroke until I’m begging without any pride left to protect. He retreats and surges back in, and my begging becomes frantic.

“Please. I need it.”

“You have it.” His eyes track down to where he’s buried inside me, and he drives deep. The knot flared at the base of his cock grows bigger and bigger. It locks us together, the stretch and fullness pulling one more orgasm out of me before he’s even finished coming himself.

I softly rock on his knot, and it presses into that needy place inside, filling more than my body. He shudders through it with his face buried against my neck, his teeth scraping skin he still refuses to break.

“Mine,” he says against my throat, his voice low and rough, more confession than claim. He rocks his knot so it teases my edges, rippling fullness through me. “Even if you’re not wearing the mark yet. Mine.”

“Yours,” I say back and feel him shudder again.

Roman remains behind me, hard and patient through his jeans. When Wes finally goes loose over me and his knot begins to soften, Roman’s hand slides down between us, checking the space where our bodies are still joined.

Roman moves from behind once Wes carefully pulls free, the last pulse of his knot finally releasing. Roman strips out of his jeans without ceremony, and the want on his face when he looks down at me is anything but careful. “Tell me you still want more.”

“I want you.”

“Where?”

“Inside me. Now.”

He doesn’t make me wait the way Wes did. He pushes in with one slow, deliberate slide, and the fullness after Wes’s knot is a different kind of good entirely. He’s lighter, faster, and unbearable in a new way.

“Fuck, I can feel Wes’s cum making you extra slick.” He groans, forehead dropping to mine. “You feel so good. Every time I think I’ve memorized you, you prove me wrong.”

Wes settles beside us, one hand sliding to where Roman moves inside me, fingers finding my clit with unhurried precision. “Let him hear what he does to you,” Wes says against my ear.