Chapter Sixteen

Marshall sat on the couch, the television playing despite him not watching it. Instead, he worked on his laptop.

He wasn’t needed for the cases. For each file he opened, he found the doctor who filled in had dealt with the issues as he would have. Each patient appeared to be doing well, to be healing as well as he would have expected.

Still, working made him relax. He understood work, understood his place. When he was elbow-deep in cases, when he helped omegas, when he saved lives, he knew he had a place. The world made sense.

That feeling fled when he was faced with Tiffany, with her sadness. They’d gone through the boxes of files, through the pages of pictures and names and places, but none of it had sparked anything in her. She didn’t recognize anyone, had never been to any of the places mentioned, knew nothing. It meant that after their time in the cabin, after Sam’s work, they seemed no closer to an answer about who was after her. The stress hung on her, and he didn’t know how to help.

“I didn’t expect this to be your sort of show,” came the voice he’d been thinking about.

Marshall lifted his gaze to the TV, which had switched to some dating show when he hadn’t been paying attention. A woman stood there with two men behind her. They argued over which one she should pick.

He huffed a soft laugh. “What? Didn’t see me as a trash TV sort of man?”

She sat on the couch beside him, all but collapsing. Some of the sadness had disappeared from her features, leaving that spark he knew already. “Not really. You seem like a documentaries sort of man.”

“You think me that dull?” He leveled a grin at her, especially at how wrong she was. He used to watch documentaries, mostly because he’d felt he needed to. He’d thought watching complicated documentaries somehow proved he was smarter, better. Only, as his work had become more difficult, he’d realized that there was nothing better than relaxing, letting his mind shut off while watching pointless action flicks with far more car chases and explosions than was necessary.

“I don’t think you’re dull,” she admitted, twisting toward him.

It wasn’t the words he heard, though. Instead, it was the way she said them. It was the lust in them, the lust he didn’t think she even knew was there.

It hung in the air, the delicious scent that blossomed in the room. Heady and deep and primitive.

He drew it in, let it soak into him. His body responded as if she controlled it, as if the only thing that mattered was satisfying her need. His cock hardened, the base aching with a desire to knot her, to finally feel blood fill the thick area at the root of his dick, to lock inside an omega and feel her snug pussy pull tight around him.

“Most people would,” he said, his voice deep and rough with want. “Most people would think I was boring. Far too boring for a girl who likes to knee men in the balls and gets into as much trouble as you do.”

Her smile widened, that flash of trouble and life he so enjoyed. She leaned in closer, pressing her hand to his shoulder. “I think you’re way more fun than you want to admit,” she said.

His eyebrow lifted. “You think so?”

She took his laptop, closed it, and set it on the table. “Yep. I think you just need some motivation.”

“What sort of motivation?”

She rose and peeled off her shirt. He saw the fluid shift over her body, the way one side of her ribcage arched up while the other lowered, the line of her body elongating. She wore no bra, so her breasts came into view, the weight and movement causing them to sway, the nipples pebbling beneath the chill and his gaze.

As quickly, she slid her thumbs into the waist of her sweats and slipped them down her legs. She dropped the cloth to the ground, so it pooled around her ankles, leaving her nude.

As she stood there, hiding nothing, on display, he was humbled.

He would never be able to deserve that girl.

Tiffany slid into Marshall’s lap, his hips forcing her thighs to spread wide. It was easy to think of him as safe, as the easygoing one, as the healer. It made her forget he was an alpha, that he carried the bulk common to their designation, larger than most betas but muscles not so defined.

However, when against him like she was, she couldn’t forget it. The wide set of his shoulders, the natural size of his body, it all tempted her. He didn’t carry the muscle of the others, but that didn’t mean he was weak or small.

He set his hands on her bare hips, his fingers against her skin. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

She angled her hips so she ground against his lap, against his hard-on that offered a delicious friction for her. “I’m not playing.”

A laugh from behind them had her turning to find Kane taking a seat. He let his knees fall wide, jeans showing off his impressive erection. “Don’t mind me, doll. Just taking in the show.”

Marshall teased his fingers up her side. “Do you mind if he stays?”

Tiffany tilted her head back, surrendering.

A soft bite to her pulse reprimanded her silence. “You need to tell me. Can he stay? If not, we’ll go somewhere more private. It’s up to you.”

The weight of Kane’s dark eyes, the low growl he released with every breath, all gave her an answer. He sat there like some silent guardian, his tattoos and his lean frame, and his menace all more attractive than any of them should have been.

“Stay,” she whispered.

“Good fucking answer.” Kane grunted softly and a rustle of fabric said he’d undone his pants. Even without looking, Tiffany could picture him wrapping his large palm around his dick.

Marshall dragged his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. His touch was strong but restrained, as always. He pressed the tips of his fingers into the weight of her breasts with a tight grope. Her pebbled nipples stuck out like offerings to him, ones he worshiped by sliding his thumbs against them.

Tiffany moaned at his stroke, at the way her nipples gave beneath his touch. She pulled her shoulders back to stick her chest out, to beg for more. The chill of the room didn’t matter against the heat of his hands or the heat the burned inside him.

Another growl filled the room, lower and more dangerous. Kieran.

Marshall caught her chin to keep her gaze on him, her attention locked on him. “It’s still your choice. Do you want to stop?” His fingers dug into her chin where he gripped her, but he continued the touches to her breast. He closed his fingers around her nipple to tweak it, pulling until she gasped.

The scent of all three males, their heavy gazes and deep growls filling the room and her mind made her cunt clench around nothing, made her want all of them. She needed them to come forward, to feel Kieran’s rough hands, to feel Kane’s talented tongue. The temptations of them all, the need to feel each of them against her made her feverish with want.

Tiffany undid Marshall’s pants, yanking at them with hard pulls, desperate to feel him.

Marshall used his grip on her chin to guide her forward, to take a kiss so deep and passionate she nearly lost herself in it. Only the need for his cock kept her hands moving, had her reaching into his boxers to grasp his hard length.

He blew a warm breath past her lips, masculine and with the same restrained need he always wore, that distance, that holding back.

Still, Tiffany danced her fingers over his dick, tracing around the thick head, the slit at the top, down to his heavy balls. At the base of his cock, she could feel the area where his knot would swell, already thickened with need. To think he’d never had an omega before, that he’d never felt the sensation of locking inside a female, something that had to be as bone-deep as her own heat.

“Are you going to let me have you?” Despite it being a question, the words left his lips like a demand. He lifted his hips, pushing his shaft against her hand.

Tiffany answered by rising on her knees and positioning him against her pussy.

Kane’s laugh made her clench. “Fuck, doll, you got any idea how well he’s gonna stretch you? You can’t tell from your angle, I bet, but those lips of yours are gonna spread wide when he fucks you.” The filth he said, the way he said it without the barest hint of shame, had her dripping with need.

Marshall grasped her hip as she lowered herself. His blunt head caught her entrance, her body fighting his thickness.

He wasn’t as long as Kieran, but he was thicker, so thick her pussy resisted his demand for entry.

“You can do it, girl.” Kieran’s words came out less like reassurance and more like a command. Not only could she, but she would.

Marshall set his other hand on her waist and twisted her. The quick movement drew a startled gasp as she tried to reorient.

It left her still in his lap, but now with her back to Marshall’s chest and her front toward the room. She faced Kane and Kieran, who sat in the large armchairs across from the couch.

Both had their own pants undone and their dicks out, their hungry gazes locked on her.

Marshall moved one of his hands from her hip and slid it up her body, to her breast. He again captured a nipple between tight fingers. “Lower yourself onto me,” he growled out.

The lust in the eyes of the alphas had her reaching forward to finger her clit, the first brush so strong she cried out. Her clit throbbed, and even as she rubbed it, it wasn’t enough.

She wanted to be filled. She wanted his thick cock to take her, wanted to feel how his wide his knot would grow inside her. Hell, she wanted to struggle against that fullness, to know she couldn’t do anything but accept it, but give in to it.

He put pressure on her hip, a reminder of her task. Right.

Tiffany drew in one deep breath before letting her weight settle, letting it press her against him harder. The pressure grew until her body gave in, until the thick head of his cock slipped past her the tight lips of her cunt.

The sounds that came from Marshall and Tiffany competed. Tiffany’s were throaty and wanton, whereas Marshall’s was aggression—barely leashed and snarling against her ear.

She wanted that grip he had on it to snap. She wanted to feel him not holding back, to not have him keeping some of himself away.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered to her, low enough it sounded like a filthy secret between them, a funny thing since the other alphas saw everything. “Your body is squeezing me, and I’m only an inch inside.”

Kane’s thumb stroked over the head of his cock, over the pre-cum at the top. “That’s right, doll, fuck yourself on him.” He spread his thighs wider, leaning back.

Tiffany did as he said, her fingers still moving as she lowered herself. Each massive inch she took of Marshall’s dick stretched her cunt, and drenched as she was, it still was a fight. Every time she lowered her body, when he slid farther into her, she gasped at the fullness.

Kieran leaned forward, his biceps tensing as he fucked into his grasp. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, a slow stroke as if he could taste her from that far away. “How does it feel, girl?”

When she didn’t answer, Marshall delivered a hard pinch to her ass. “He asked you a question.”

“Full,” she gasped out.

“You can do better than that,” Kane said. “Use those fancy words you got. Tell us how it feels to take him like that.”

Tiffany closed her eyes and dropped her head back against Marshall’s shoulder as she kept sliding down his cock, as each roll of her hips took him deeper. “He’s thick, and it feels like he won’t fit.”

A growl in her ear said Marshall liked the suggestion.

It kept her lips moving, kept the words coming out. She whined as a lift of his hips sent his cock delving impossibly deeper into her. “It stings.” She set the hand not still playing with her clit on the one of his, grasping her hip. Her nails bit into it.

“A little more, girl. You’ve nearly taken him all. The fact you can stretch like that is amazing, that your cunt spreads that wide. It makes me wonder what other fun we could have with you,” Kieran said.

Marshall released her breast and grasped her hips in his solid hands. He used them to pull her down as he lifted his hips up, seating the last inch of his dick into her. It filled her so much she could only breathe as she adjusted. He tightened his grip and released, the tentative grasping of a man who still held himself back.

Tiffany reached forward, setting her hands on his knees for balance, her body spread out over his lap. She lifted and sank down again, a shallow movement that caused his thickness to stroke against her. Each place where he teased her walls drove her higher.

A more vicious snarl came from behind her, then Marshall jerked her down on his length.

“Yes,” she gasped out at the roughness, at the way it felt real. That’s what I need.

Marshall did it again, using his grip to lift her then pull her down. He used it to fuck her, taking her at his speed, taking her the way he wanted to. He didn’t wait, he didn’t ask, only took. Being used like that stroked her deeper than even his heavy cock, reached into her in a way that melted her defenses. Even the sound he made had turned primal, and the thickness at the base of his cock, already swelling, said what he needed.

“You feel that?” Kane’s gaze was locked between her thighs as he spoke. “Bet his cock is already thick, like he’s already got a knot. It’s because he ain’t never knotted an omega before. Bet it’s been swelling a bit every time he smelled your pretty cunt, getting thicker, waiting. You gonna let him knot you?”

Yes. Please, yes.

Tiffany wanted nothing more. Well, she’d have rather Kane and Kieran be closer, to feel their hands and their lips and their breaths on her while she was knotted by Marshall.

Only, the pressure didn’t grow. That possessive snarl from Marshall cut off, and he went still behind her. He held her hips so tight it brought out a whimper.

As fast as it happened, he moved her again. Not down, not against him, but instead he pulled her off him. The quick withdraw shocked her, the sudden emptiness as he pulled out of her cunt, as he shifted her over onto the couch beside him.

Marshall rose, tucking his still hard cock into his pants.

“What are you doing?” Tiffany twisted to sit on the couch, pulling her legs toward her chest.

Marshall avoided looking her in the eye as he buttoned his pants. “Nothing.”

Kane and Kieran had stopped, gazes darting between Tiffany and Marshall but saying nothing.

“Nothing? Then what the hell was that?”

He took a few steps backward, as if he needed distance between them. “It was nothing.”

“So what? Am I not good enough for you? Do you have other wonderful options out there?”

“It’s not you.” He turned and nailed her with an empty, haunted look that was nothing like he normally wore. “I won’t ever knot you, Tiffany.” The words came out with such certainty, they were like a slap to her. He left no room to discuss it, to come to an understanding.

Suddenly, everything crashed in on her. All those stupid fantasies she’d had where she thought a future would happen with the three males became clear. She was sitting there, naked, with three males who refused to give her anything real.

As if he could see it on her face, Marshall’s expression softened. “Tiffany.”

“Don’t you try to be nice to me. I don’t need you pretending.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Of course you are! You’re pretending all the time, pretending to be something you’re not, pretending we might have a future, pretending you’ll give me something you have no intention of following through on.”

Tiffany didn’t stop there, though. She was invigorated by letting out the truth she’d hidden, that she’d buried deep down. She turned a hard glare on Kane. “And you? You don’t tell me anything! You don’t tell me where you got your scars from, you don’t tell me about your past, but you want me to tell you everything. And any time it seems like we’re getting somewhere, you bolt like a coward.”

Kane crossed his arms and said nothing, though his lips pressed together tight.

Tiffany leveled one more look Kieran’s way, to the stoic alpha who managed to still look detached despite the way his cock hadn’t gone down, the way it still showed beneath his hastily pulled up jeans.

“And you—”

“What about me?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You want me to open up and to trust you, but you’re giving me a timeline. You expect me to be happy with being one out of a long fucking line of omegas for you. Guess what? It’s not enough!” She rose, anger pushing her as she didn’t hide behind the lies they’d told her, the lies she’d told herself. “None of you are giving me enough, and I’m not going to be happy with getting something. I’ve done that, accepted things because I pretended they were enough, because I pretended I could still have what I wanted, but I’m done with it. I’m over making do with things that aren’t what I want.”

Marshall kept part of himself locked away and refused to talk about it. He wouldn’t even tell her why.

Kieran had signed a contract for her for a year and had given her no reason to think he wanted more than that.

Kane had scars covering his chest that he would not speak of or let her ask about.

They kept taking her body, but none would give her more. None of them even gave her the feeling she might get more in the future.

She swallowed hard at the reality, at not being able to do a damn thing to fix it. Yelling made her feel better for a moment, but it wouldn’t change anything. She couldn’t fix people who didn’t want to change, and the three stubborn assholes didn’t want to change. She’d yet again chased after something recklessly, ignoring that it wasn’t real, that she couldn’t catch it.

After everything, this is where we are?

She pulled the necklace, the chain catching her neck, likely leaving a mark, until it broke. She hurled it against the wall, as if that could release the hurt inside her, the anger, like breaking it would solve anything. She’d worn it like some protection charm, like a testament to some nameless omega who had suffered, but suddenly the life of an omega seemed too painful.

No matter what she did, she wanted three men who wouldn’t give themselves to her.

Their voices followed her as she left the room with hard, sure steps, but she ignored them when she shut the door with a click, shutting them out like they had done to her.

They could fuck themselves for all she cared, but she’d reached her limit of arrogant, selfish, emotionally-inept alphas.

She was done.