Page 21 of Mistletoe Omega

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Usually, that was my line.

Pretend.

Ambrose had always been better at pretending—at fakery and flattery. It felt cruel to pretend none of this was happening with her, to keep Holly in the dark when, really, this washerlife on the line too. Blood bonds went both ways, and she had every right to know she had just found her scent matches, her fated mates,heralphas who would protect and nurture her for the rest of her life. Nest, house, wine, sweets, blankets, gardens, cars, jewelry, books, kittens—whatever her heart desired,wewould provide.

She didn’t need to be… here.

And that was what made a blood bond so twisted.

We could give her the world, but at the end of the day, that wasn’t enough for an omega.

But losing our cool in front of her would only scare her.Pretend. Maybe we all needed the distraction. She seemed content now, hanging there, knotted with rope, her legs tied open and her exposed pussy slick with omega need.

So be it.

I twisted out of Ambrose’s grasp and stalked across the suite, straight for the yule tree whose lights we had turned off the moment we arrived. Now, I ripped them off the boughs, looping the strand around and around my arm, making sure there was a battery pack attached. When I returned to Holly, I said nothing as I added the finishing touches to my masterpiece, draping her with lights, prettying her up for the season. I even added a simple rope gag between her full, luscious lips, then circled the last of the twinkly lights around her face.

When I flicked the switch on the battery pack, she lit up in warm gold.

Ambrose extinguished all other light sources.

Kane joined me at her side, looking extra massive tonight compared to our omega as he stroked my handiwork, sneaking below to tweak her nipple so she squealed and bucked and whined and had nowhere to go. Hanging at roughly cock height, she had no choice but totake.

And how her alphas planned togive.

If I had my way, we would leave here with her before sunrise.

But if we only had tonight, then let her experience pleasure beyond measure.

“Gentlemen,” I said roughly, “a toast?”

Ambrose closed in on her from behind, smoothing his hands up her calves, tickling her bare feet with a wicked grin. Kane seemed fascinated with her hair restraint, mapping the connecting rope that stretched between it and her ankles.

“To Holly, on Mistletoe,” I added, my voice cracking. In the dark, our night vision better than perfect, we all suddenly looked to each other. This moment meant more than she would ever know. To taste a blood bond, to gift the omega with the only bliss this disease allowed, was to deepen the connection. With every bite, the cord shortened, the knot tightened—she wasours.

“To Hollis,” Ambrose whispered, lowering to his knees, as if in prayer, to go for that same spot on her thigh.

“On Mistletoe,” Kane muttered, cupping her ass and squeezing each cheek. I crouched before her, infatuated with the depths of her eyes, the blood in her cheeks and the way her lips trembled. I traced the slope of her nose and plucked at her lower lip, then lightly collared her throat, determined that the first taste of my blood bond would be as close to her scent glands as possible.

“Thank you, Holly,” I murmured, “for all that you are. You are truly a gift from the divine.”

Her eyes widened—and, with a surge of alpha growls, we all sank our fangs into her flesh.

Chapter6

Holly

Am I dead?

Is this my afterlife?

Maybe all us omegas were destined to wind up here when we die: tormented with orgasms from unearthly monsters, our sole existencepleasure, again and again and again until the end of time.

Gods.

I had been warned by Adeline and the club grapevine that a vampire’s bite had an almost orgasmic quality to it, butthiswas out of this world.

So much more than I had mentally prepared for.


Tags: Rhea Watson Paranormal