Capítulo 107: Beginning of Chapter 34
Dante
"Stupid bitch," he cursed, fingers running through hair, growl settling in his throat. "Stupid, little shit."
His shoe connected against a rock, pieces crumbling into dust. But his body was hot, boiling and his slacks hurt, too tight around his ass, stretched painfully around his swollen cock. The Rampage twisted in his throat, and his heartbeat thrashed like a devil in his throat. There was thunder roaring around him, thunder and lightning.
"Omega," he repeated to himself, emptily, angrily, begging for the skies to calm, for his heart to calm. He stormed into their tent, almost ripping it into pieces. The barriers wobbled, his people scurrying away like rats. Their tent was prettier, with plush couches and soft beds – an Omega's nest. Hers had been threadbare rugs and old dust. He hated that deep down he wanted her in their tent, comfortable, sleeping and protected. He'd watch her, he'd care for her, he'd guard her as her Alpha— Dante cursed. "A cocky Omega that thinks she's got everything pressed under her fucking thumb."
He collapsed onto the couch, sank into the leather and growled. And yet thundering in his mind and boiling in his cheeks, was the imagery of her. The sight of the Omega with her pussy to Seraphim's soaked lips, back arched like a fucking cat, thighs to his cheeks, fingers clawing her breast like a newbie to cumming. His mate had drank, palmed himself through his pants and ate as if he were hungry as if he were starving.
And that had resulted in pure pleasure that had radiated through their bond. It had influenced Dante like wildfire to dirty, dry grass. It had him hard and swelling, cock heavy with blood, balls tight. Seraphim had never eaten someone out with so much enthusiasm, not even the members of his pack. And Gods, had his mate ever eaten someone out?
Dante's mind stuttered to a halt, unable to conjure up memories of Seraphim with his tongue to an asshole, with a cock truly so deep in his throat he was choking for oxygen. It made him wonder where the uptight, proud Alpha was. It made Dante wonder if he truly was Seraphim's mate. And yet that scene had lit him on fire, had set him ablaze, melting, roaring, molten. And Rue had responded to that so sweetly, had been all sweaty, teary and sinful —
And that was —
He didn't know he liked pussy, but —
"Dante."
Halcyon entered the space, drenched in blood, curls dripping with sweat, weapons sheathed. Tall, handsome, lithe, all corded muscles, thin waist, and a sharp fucking jawline. A man with a cock. Something he liked, something he loved. Not softness, not breasts, not motherfucking pussy. Dante was torn, and the answer to that was to rush to press his lips to his mate, fingers groping a well-polished velvety ass. And Halcyon groaned on his tongue.
No softness, just rough, sweaty need.
He'd take the edge off, fuck Halcyon—
"You smell like Rue," his mate hissed, dared to whimper on his tongue the name of the last person he wanted to fucking hear of. Halcyon's knees seemed to grow weak, collapsing in Dante's arms not because of his kiss, but because of Rue. His brows were knotted upwards, disgustingly, pathetically whipped. "Y-you smell like the freshest slick—"
"Shut the fuck up," Dante roared, pulled back to spit on the ground, disgusted, disturbed. Fucking horny.
"Sweet, so sweet." Halcyon didn't seem to fucking care, Bambi eyes growing wider, pawing at Dante's chest with a needy whine in his throat. His eyes were greedy but not for Dante, shameless as they raked over him searching for clues. "What did she allow you—"
"Nothing." Dante pulled back with a grunt, tore his shitty mate off him with his cock aching to plunder. Spoilsport. He should be wilting, and yet his dick remained just as hard, just as swollen, just as needy for something too slippery to be Alpha.
And Altair had to appear then like the devil, flutter in with a gorgeous smile on his cheek. All cheery and renewed despite the exhaustion from the battle. He pressed a rude tongue to the corner of his cheek, a naughty smirk spreading, blond curls cherubic. "I can read him for you."
Shit. Dante hissed. Aphrodites had a better grasp of the sexual needs and desires of others. Altair could drink from his lust and feast on his emotions. And with Rue so fresh and hot in his mind, it would be too easy for him to dig his claws into his chest and pull the truth straight from his tongue. Dante's warning came too late in a low curse. "Altair..."
"Rue sat on Seraphim's face," Altair purred. Then went rigid with wide eyes and a baby-like pout. "For real?" He groaned, lips trembling as if he couldn't believe what he had just discovered. His mouth was open, catching flies, ready for cock. He snapped it shut to whistle. "Didn't expect that from her."
Halcyon bounced over, all wide, hopeful eyes. He too seemed starstruck. "Like unclothed?"
"That's right," Altair nodded eagerly. "He got to eat. Bare. Fucking. Pussy." He continued sucking down Dante's emotions, slurping it with peppered kisses up his throat. "And our mate here stood and watched with not a drop of cum out of his balls. You must have been so pent up, baby," he cooed. "Want me to suck your cock now?" And Dante slapped at the rude hand that reached to pinch his cheeks, a grunt released from his throat. His lovers could be so fucking annoying. Altair let out a noisy giggle.
"Fucking fuck my life," Halcyon groaned, slumped to the ground with a dramatic wail. "Should have taken a hit just for that. I saw it coming, that monster with those awful fucking teeth. Didn't run for it because I didn't think I could win brownie points with an injury. Thought the most she'd do was hold my hand. But Rue does have a bit of a soft spot for weakness." He pressed his head to his palm. "Fucking forgot she loves prey. Seraphim's so fucking lucky—"
Dante snarled. "Seraphim was fucking melting into pieces. He took that hit because he was the only one that had a decent shot at regrowing his fucking arm. Don't be stupid."
Halcyon shrugged as if he didn't give a damn. "All of us could survive that."
"But risk losing your limbs? A colossal Rampage? Death?" Dante slammed a fist to the table. "Halcyon, you're not thinking straight."
Halcyon grinned. "Anything for pussy."
Altair shushed him, finger to Halcyon's lips blowing out a quiet hum. "And so," the aphrodite turned to Dante then, brow raised. Questions in his eyes. "Her pussy worked?"
"What the fuck do you mean?"
"Seraphim is cured?"
Dante paused, a scoff hissing between gritted teeth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He hated it when Rue was winning, hated it when his control was gone when she was the reason for their success. He crossed his arms tighter, man spreading wider.
"The poison's gone," Dante grouched, rolling his eyes, lips downturn. He was sulking, and they all knew it. "I had my doubts about her abilities. But it could be that our Poseidon simply needed the fluids. And the poison wasn't that much of a damn problem—"
"It was." Valentino stepped forward then in a rustle of wind, the flap of the tent zipped to a close. His mate turned, fingers through long curls, dark eyes growing darker. He was stronger now with his tails shuddering to life, deadly blades of violent blue, all drenched in dark blood. "I've got melting men. They needed twenty guides each. But they're as good as crippled. What the fuck was that weapon—" He paused then, sniffing the air, eyes snapping to Dante. He perked up like a dog. The terrifying emperor was gone in a blink. "Omega slick?"
Estado de energía semanal
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