Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(99)

Matthieu hummed again, pulling away just enough to reach between us, guiding himself to my soaked entrance. “Still sore?”

I shook my head and then arched as he pushed in slowly, never stopping until his knot rested against my opening, nudging my clit just enough.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” I breathed, my eyes falling shut and my legs spreading farther open for him.

His lips landed on mine, swallowing my gasp as he pulled out and then stroked in again, from tip to hilt, slow and steady, letting me feel every thick, long inch of him. He sucked my tongue, arms around my back holding me as close as he could, our chests pressed firmly together. Every stroke nudged his knot against me, but he never pushed, never tested me, and soon I was rising up into his thrusts, enjoying the friction of the ridge against me.

Matthieu was close, intoxicating and heavy and encompassing. My legs twined around his hips, and I swallowed his groan in our deep kisses. His purr resonated against my breasts, body pinning me to the bed, anchoring me in the blissful connection.

His mouth tore away, pressing to my cheek, and I caught that first rewarding mutter of French on my ear. I dug my fingers into his back and arched my own, turning my hips so the head of him dragged along my walls.

“God you feel good, Matthieu,” I moaned. He did, he felt fucking amazing, but I wanted to play it up a little too. “So fucking good. Ah! Yes, just there, there. Oh, fuck, please!”

Every little word of praise made him thrum and growl in my ear, the bed starting to rock as his thrusts were quicker.

“I’m not a school boy, Lola,” Matthieu rasped, teeth scraping along my jaw. “And I plan on feeling you gushing around my cock at least twice before I finish.”

I whimpered and squeezed my thighs around his hips, meeting his thrusts, marveling at the thrill of his knot striking gently against my opening. Could I take him? All of him? Would he howl for me if I did? Bite—

Matthieu pushed up just enough to cup behind my shoulder blades, his own back arching so his lips could cover my breasts in sucking, biting kisses that made me beg.

“Please, please, harder,” I cried.

Fingers tangled in my hair again, a rougher tug, and Matthieu fucked me in earnest, hips slapping against mine. I drew my knees higher, planting my heels into his ass and gasping as Matthieu chuckled against a nipple.

“Come for me, Lola,” Matthieu growled, pinching my other nipple in his fingers.

I came with a cry, body trying to twist out of reach, but Matthieu held me tighter in his arms. He purred with a roar in my ear as I shuddered over his length, riding me into the bed even as I shattered. His forehead was against mine, breath panting on my lips.

“You sure you can make it?” I teased when I caught my breath. His body was almost frantic on top of mine, every muscle tensed and restraining.

Matthieu grinned and nipped my full cheek. “Touch yourself for me, Lolotte. I want to come together.”

That was too sweet an offer to resist, and I wiggled my hand between us, fingering my clit roughly and digging my free hand into his hair. Matthieu’s tongue licked against mine, mimicking the long thrusts of his cock inside of me. The longer he lasted, the heavier he got, until my hand was trapped between us, cursory nudges against my clit made by his shallow thrusts rocking us both. Sweat stuck our chests together as we begged and praised and moaned into one another’s mouths.

“Belle. Ma Lolotte. Come. Come again,” Matthieu pleaded.

My legs had fallen to the bed, and I spread them as far as I could, suddenly wishing I’d never said a word about his knot. I wanted him to consume me, or vice versa. I wanted us tied together completely and permanently.

“Come, darling, please,” he said, sucking on my bottom lip.

I squeezed myself on his length, forcing my orgasm to come crashing over me, and Matthieu wedged his hand next to mine, fucking me frantically and gripping hard on his knot. His orgasm overlapped with mine, our voices broken as we broke the kiss, heat filling me. Matthieu was slack on top of me, breathing hard against my jaw, scenting me with gentle nuzzles. His purr was broken with his panting, and he groaned as he turned us, holding us joined together as he rolled onto his back and draped me over his chest.

His hands squeezed my ass and I shuddered, making him grunt. “Lie together with me?” he asked.

I nuzzled his temple and Matthieu’s purr thrummed heavily, echoing in my sex and flaring soft heat. “Yes, please.”

“Mmm. You’ll be very easy to spoil, Lolotte,” Matthieu said, kissing my throat.





Thirty-Two





Leo





Rake’s foot nudged mine as we sat on the couch, his eyes popping slightly, trying to urge me to speak. Deep in his own armchair, Matthieu sat innocently drinking his scotch with a book open in his lap. Cyrus was painting in his studio, and Wes was…doing Wes things—working out maybe, or working in his office.

“Ask,” Rake hissed.

“You ask,” I whispered back.

Rake was a master of the faintest use of his bottom lip. It was absolutely a pout, but not one you could reasonably call him out on. I sighed and cleared my throat, catching Caleb’s attention on my left but not Matthieu’s.

“Maybe later, in private,” I said to Rake.

He huffed and twisted toward the end of the table. “Hey, Matt.”