Your Omegas Are Mine 1| Euodia's Sun | Omegaverse Apocalyptic Reverse Harem

69 - End of Chapter 22

"Zen for now then," she whispered, accepting her position with a strange fluttering excitement. She turned her gaze to him, a little shy. "Are you hungry?"

"Always." He lifted his eyes, dark, and all blown out with lust, leaning forward lightly, until they were nose to nose. A moment of glassy darkness, and racing hearts. It was odd that he waited, that he paused with his forehead lightly pressed to hers as if he were in love. That he allowed her a moment to stare at the galaxy of stars that existed in his eyes. "Quinn," he whispered. and then his lips were on hers, gentle, soft, stealing.

She tasted the heat of his tongue, oddly sweet as it fucked and flirted with her own with a desperation that she didn't understand. His tongue hooked on hers, saliva stringy between their swollen lips. It was a while since she'd kissed anyone, and it had her hazy with desire. A rush of knowledge that she was tasting her soulmate had a strange sort of joy bubbling through her system. And her mind scattered, desire drenching from his body, as his fingers skirted down her waist, toyed low to the space between legs.

Zen leaned forward, cock growing between his legs, pressed tight against her thigh. He was swollen and grinding against her, little 'ah, ah, ah's escaping his rosebud lips. And fuck was her body buzzing with need, clit throbbing with the tease.

She knew she was soaked through now, for her panties were tacky and sticky against the lips of her pussy. Her nipples sensitive buds against the cloth. And when he touched her there, fingers dragging down, never entering her, never dipping into her. She was almost whimpering.

"Zen," she breathed against his throat, lost in the look of his face. The utter pleasure that wrecked him, made his cheeks glow pink and dewy. The upwards knot of his brows as if this were the greatest torture, and it must be for his mouth was agape, looking at her as if she were all that he had in this life. "Gods, Zen."

"Solar is going to touch you," Zen whimpered, gasping breathless for air, with eyes that seemed to drink in her face. "Let him."

Quinn felt as if she should be embarrassed, and yet she wasn't when Solar's hand joined his, clumsily snaking to the space between her legs, dipping to her folds and toying with her cloth-covered clit. The sound of her pleasure, the wet smacks of fingers squelching seemed deafening in the room. A moan escaped their throats, then the smallest of snorts as they palmed her together. The heel of their hands collecting her juices, their touch electrifying as they darted up her body and scalded her insides.

"She's wet," Solar marvelled, "and small."

"Doesn't matter," Zen groaned, peppering kisses down her throat, lips on her scent gland, another hand running up her clothes to stroke the nub of her breast. He cupped her and squeezed. "She tastes good." A whimper was wrenched from her throat as pleasure darted up her spine. "The size doesn't matter."

"I'm not saying it does," Solar bit back. "I'm so," he moaned, strumming her clit. Her hips bucked against him, wriggling at the pleasure. And she felt his breath hot against her cunt, fanning over her as if he were staring right at her pussy. His breath was touching her everywhere, kissing her hole, caressing her folds, muggy against her clit. "I'm so fucking hungry, and she smells so good."

And her eyes snapped open blearily, growing scarlet at the sight of him kneeling, pressed close to her sodden lips, sniffing at her cunt, fingers pinching her clit. He stared hard at the space between her legs and inhaled with breathless devotion. And he had parted her panties, dragged the sticky see-through fabric to the side so he could stroke her until all she could do was shiver and sob from it all, gushing sticky and wet all over his hands, coating him with her juices.

The Solar she knew was now present on his face, a wonderment that danced in his eyes like spinning hearts. His fingers circled her clit, calloused for her pleasure and her hips jolted upwards as he played her like a song. Clit caught between his forefinger and thumb as he rubbed and dragged, fondled with the bud of her clit with small strokes until she was blubbering and swallowing down her need to cry.

"Do it again," Zen begged. "Do that thing that makes her taste so sweet."

There was a flood of wetness dripping from Zen's lips, a scalding tongue drawing a path down her neck. And then a pressure on her throat, as Solar's hands stroked at her sensitive nub with a speed that almost seemed to break her. It was almost all she could do to not sob, stars dancing before her eyes, white clouding her vision.

"Fuck," she gasped, not knowing where to look with her cunt gushing and begging for something inside of her. The words were lodged in her throat, thick with her arousal. And then she was overloaded with sensation, with pleasure, with heat. Her need was rising, waves of it going higher and higher, until she was muffling it into her palm, back arching against his touch, thighs shivering. Body so tensed and hips bucking so hard she felt as if she would explode, and she did with one last flick of his thumb.

She was squirting all over Solar's face, slick dripping across his cheeks, spilling across his lips. A cry escaped her, and she was trashing in Zen's hold as he held her down with his mouth on her throat. A suck and Zen parted too quickly, panting hard, eyes blown, canines showing, crimson staining his lips, shaking like a man possessed. She couldn't remember when he had bitten her, for she hadn't felt the same stab of pain. And Solar's cruel fingers were gone almost immediately, her pussy aching empty and wanting.

"Can't have too much," Zen breathed. He rose, and Solar seemed to stumble along like a drunken man, lashes wet with her orgasm. The door was already closing when she caught her breath. And she noted now that her skin was healed, lacking in the wounds. But she felt empty now, sagging into the couch, embarrassment dripping over her heart.

"There's a gown in the closet," Klaus's voice echoed beyond the door, features shielded by shadows. "Clean yourself up and come down for dinner." He moved, and the door began to close. But she watched as Solar slid a wet finger over the king's lips, watched as Klaus parted his lips and sucked. He latched on soaked digits, tasting the remains of her sticky wetness with a hunger that had her heart racing.

And she stared through the closing slit of the door as another shadowed figure approached, tongue stuck out, lapping up the remains of her juices on Solar's face like a man possessed. She swallowed hard when the door finally closed with a soft click.

The seven kings were starving.

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