Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(70)

His voice was lowering, gaining an edge that wasn't an alpha's growl but sharper, more dangerous. It made me shiver in anticipation.

"I'm willing to try," I said, tipping my head.

Chance laughed, that beautiful, bright and joyful sound, and then he leapt up, holding me in his arms and flipping us over, throwing me down into the mattress. I found myself flat and limp beneath him, his knees trapping my thighs and hands braced on either side of my shoulder.

"You forget that I know exactly how easy you take all of me, birdy," Chance rasped, moving one hand to slide up under the hem of my rucked-up sleep shirt, tweaking a nipple to a sharp tip. "My cock," he said, and the hand swept back down my chest and into the waistband of my shorts. I tried to open my legs, but he held them pinned shut and his fingers could only wedge between my thighs, rubbing dully against my sex. "My fist," he added with a feral grin. "Which is your favorite?"

"Both at the same time," I said immediately.

Chance laughed. "Of course. Thirsty cunt. So eager to be stuffed."

I nodded, squirming and using the friction to stimulate my now throbbing clit.

"Well, you're not getting either of them," Chance said, pulling his hand away abruptly, sitting back on his heels and yanking my shorts down my hips, only moving enough to pull them off my kicking legs.

"Chance!"

"Hold yourself open, birdy," Chance said, pushing my knees wide. I reached for the backs of my legs, and he shook his head. "Not there. Here," he said, and he flicked his thumb and forefinger against my clit, making me cry out. I wiggled as Chance pushed my knees back toward my chest. I reached down and spread my lips open.

He stared down at me and I blushed, catching my breath from the sudden filthy assignment.

"I can literally see you getting wetter for me," Chance said, his own breath thin.

I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut, aware of the gasping clench of my cunt, and how easily Chance would be able to see every quiver and tremble like this. The bed jostled, and I gasped at his breath on my exposed sex a moment before a hot, eager tongue swiped up my center.

"Oh!"

"Mmm," Chance hummed, helping himself to two more quick strokes, tongue wet and catching my arousal, spreading it over me, right up to my fingers and around my clit. "Good little slut. Open a little more, down to your cheeks."

I whined and obeyed, pulling at my inner thighs and down to my ass, hands splayed and skin spread taut.

"Oh, yes. Pretty as a picture," Chance hissed.

I squealed as he tongued me, slow and thorough, prodding at every fold and hole, ass to clit and back again.

"Ohh, birdy. Every little bit of you is just begging me to fuck you."

"Yessss!"

Chance pressed at my asshole and it pulsed and puckered, begging just like he said. His tongue probed at my cunt, and I could feel my muscles trying to suck him in, claim that tongue and use it for my pleasure. I laughed with him as he pulled away, but mine was desperate and sobbing and his was smug.

I understood why Ghost had glared at me last night, why he didn't want to lose that sense of helpless possession Chance could wield over you. But I wasn't stupid enough to hide how much I wanted Chance, and I would never let him doubt that his designation meant next to nothing to me.

"Chance, please," I gasped, rolling my hips into his teasing tongue.

He groaned and I got my wish, in a perfect and punishing way. Chance latched his lips onto my clit, circling my asshole with one gentle finger as he sucked on my sensitive flesh like he was trying to draw my soul out with my orgasm.

And when it hit, I almost believed he'd succeeded. I arched, howling, my hands abandoning their post to clutch his head closer as electric bolts of agonized pleasure laced through me. It grew to be too much faster than usual, my sopping sex panting and begging to be filled. I tried to wiggle away from his mouth, but he latched an arm around my hips, holding me in place. Just before I thought he might force me to come a second time, Chance pulled away, caught one desperate and ragged breath, and then dove down.

I screamed in earnest as he bit at the inside of my thigh.

For a delirious, orgasm-soaked moment, I believed I was being bonded. But the pain was dull and muscular, not a clean cut of teeth into flesh but a bruising pressure. Chance swiped his thumb against my clit, and my scream transformed into a shuddering moan as I came, my flesh clamped in his ferocious jaw, fingers gently teasing and tracing over my sex.

He released me and lifted up enough to meet my eyes. "It'll leave a bruise, that's all," he said.

A mark. Not a bond, but a mark. He'd given me that first, before the others, before even Bear. And if he could've, I was sure it would've been more. My eyes watered and Chance bent down, kissing the spot he'd bitten softly.

"Give me more," I said.

He lifted his head again, smile smug. "Where?"

I licked my lips, and his thumb on my clit stroked down and slid inside of me, not remotely enough but a start.

"Everywhere."

Chance grinned and shifted, kissing up the thigh he'd bruised, across my belly. His thumb was pushing in and out of me, keeping me at a simmer of arousal, and his eyes met mine as he sucked a kiss on my hip. No, a hickey, I realized as I shivered at the rough suction and the way it pulsed through me. I combed my fingers through his hair, rolling my body into that tiny stimulation of his thumb inside of me.