24. Proof of Pleasure

Proof of Pleasure

Ecker

Her back flattens against the hallway wall, breath sawing in and out the closer I lean in. 1 So close our noses nearly brush. So close my heart skips a beat. So close I can see the exact variation of gold dancing in her sky-blue irises.

"Bishop," I growl. "Unlock the fucking door or give me permission to fuck Sinclair right here."

"Oh." She exhales, and her eyes sink to a new level of lust. One so ravenous I question how she's even standing.

"You want that, don't you?" My voice is so dark and low, I hardly recognize it. "You want to be flipped around and railed within an inch of your life right here where anyone can see?"

Behind me, Bishop fumbles with the key and she whimpers, her legs squirming with need. His body is nearly trembling with the rut raging through him. The scent of Sinclair's arousal is so thick in the air, I can taste it on the back of my tongue.

"Fuck it," he says gruffly, pocketing the keys and kicking the door in.

Instinctively, I shield her with my body from the splintering wood. She jumps at the loud bang the door makes as it swings violently into the wall. As soon as it's safe, Bishop nudges me aside and picks Sinclair up as she moans, nuzzling into his neck.

I've never been envious of such a small amount of contact before, but right now I'm pretty sure I'd cut off my own dick for her to kiss my neck and inhale my scent as greedily as she does Bishop's.

Burning inside and out, I stride into our common room, tugging at my tie and shirking my suit jacket onto the floor as I head straight for Bishop's room.

They follow right behind me, and Bishop sets her on the foot of the bed, her breasts heaving with heavy breaths. Her glassy, heated gaze slides between him and me.

"Will you give him permission, Alpha? I need—I need you both," she whines, and my chest nearly explodes with want.

Bishop cradles her face in his hands, tilting it up. "I will." She and I both sigh in relief. He grazes her forehead with his lips before stepping aside to face me. "But first, he has to prove that he can give you pleasure—"

I laugh. "I think I've more than proven—"

"Without also causing her pain." His eyes harden.

"Are you gonna tell him, or am I?" I nod to Sinclair.

She chews on her lip. "Tell him what?"

I take a step closer, and she inhales deeper. Tucking my hands into my pants' pockets, I cock my head to the side and drink her in. "That you're nothing if not a whore for pain."

"Watch how you speak about my mate," Bishop snarls, stepping between her and me. The potential of a fight makes my alpha nature flare, the rut bearing down.

I try to reel myself back in. "Ask her if I'm wrong."

His jaw ticks before he exhales in concession. "It doesn't matter. You're not laying a finger on her until you give her pleasure without pain."

All these rules and conditions are aggravating, but at the same time, I am eager to prove myself. Not just to Bishop, but her as well.

Then it occurs to me. "How am I supposed to do that if I can't touch her?"

He looks at her with glowing eyes then back to me with a half-smirk. "Use me. Tell me what to do and fuck her through me."

It takes less than half a second to decide having her like this is better than not having her at all.

"Okay," I agree. Bishop immediately begins undoing his pants, and I side-eye him. "Keep your dick in your pants, dude. This is about her pleasure, not yours."

He glowers at me like he's already regretting this decision.

"Wait," Sinclair says hurriedly, putting her hands on his waistband, stopping him from redoing the button. "Ecker, I want—need him."

My stomach swoops. It doesn't matter that she's proclaiming her desire for another man in the same sentence. Nothing matters but hearing my name recited on her lips again and again.

"I know you're hurting, baby girl, but trust me to know what you need and give it to you."

"Okay." Her voice is shaky. She's so fucking needy in this state—it's intoxicating.

I can't tear my eyes away from her as I instruct Bishop. "Pull her ass to the edge of the bed and kneel between those delicious thighs." Once he does, I stand right behind him, Sinclair and I locking gazes.

"Now, her panties, slide them down her legs. Slowly," I correct when his hands shoot under her dress. "Try not to touch her, just slowly drag them down. Build anticipation until she's squirming for your touch."

My line of work gave me a lot of experience and made me excellent in bed. But I always viewed it as a trade skill, something to add to my figurative resume. This is the first time that I feel the urge to use what I've learned to make someone crave me the way I crave them. I'm not doing it for a bigger tip or to solidify a repeat customer.

Instead, I'm determined to show not only Bishop, but Sinclair too that I know how to please an omega and care for her needs. That I can put her pleasure first.

After a minute that I'm sure is equally excruciating for all of us, he drops the ball of fabric on the floor. I point over his shoulder at a small, thin scar on her inner thigh about halfway to her knee. "Start there and kiss everywhere but where she wants it most."

My heart pummels against my ribcage as I watch him drag his mouth up and down her soft flesh, listening to the little hitches in her breath. "Spread your knees for him, beautiful. Show him how much you want him, how your pussy is dripping for him."

His fingers dig into her muscles as she widens her legs. A dark rumble emanates from him as she uses two fingers to spread herself open.

"Fuck," I groan. "What I wouldn't give for a single taste."

Bishop grinds out a curse and squeezes his dick through his pants. His voice is ragged and torn. "Can I?"

"Not yet." I can't help but smile at the wicked satisfaction of dragging this moment out for a little longer. "But you can smell her, drag your nose along where the seams of her panties would be."

This time, her breath doesn't just hitch. It completely stops. Her mouth falls open on a gasp as he nuzzles against her, and she seems unable to exhale. Bishop purrs into her skin and her leg twitches.

The anticipation is nearly unbearable.

"Lick that pretty cunt, Bish," I say, and she squeals eagerly. As soon as he dives in, her hands fly to his head, grabbing onto his bun. "Good boy, now let her ride your tongue. Give it to her flat and firm and let her take what she wants from you." Her feet flatten against the mattress edge as she grinds into him.

Her moans cloud my mind, gold overtaking my vision as I drop fully into rut. Fuck her through him, fuck her through him, I remind myself again and again, trying to think clearly enough to give instruction.

She mewls, whines for more and more. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—" She's teetering on the edge.

"You want that tight, little pussy filled?"

"Yes, yes." She gasps, her brows pinched together.

"You heard her, brother. Finger her until she's coming on your tongue." He slides two thick fingers into her, and as she moans in bliss, but it's not him she looks at.

It's me.

She crashes over her peak and squeezes his head between her thighs, crying out and arching her back.

"That's it, work her through it." My throat is dry, my voice hoarse, my gaze unable to look away from every beautiful inch of her in rapture. The corded tendons of her neck as her head bows back. The flush that creeps across her chest and up to her cheeks. The way her jaw goes slack and her eyes roll to the ceiling.

I could blow in my goddamn pants just watching her come.

She's not just beautiful; she's a fucking masterpiece.

1. Play "Say Your Prayers" by Blithe and continue in next chapter