CHAPTER 109: ALPHA X BETA X OMEGA ( EMILIANO’S POV )

"You’re hurting him!"

"No, I am just playing with my puppy. After all, does it really matter if the toy gets broken in the end?"

"Why are you here? Why can’t you just leave me alone?"

I grabbed Tom’s trembling hands. I could feel his pulse spiking, but how could it not?

Even for a beta, to be caught in such a pheromone wildfire between mine and Luther’s -both deadly toxic- was life-threatening. Yet he didn’t seem to mind between all the grunting, shivering and moaning.

I placed my hand on top of his and guided it thoroughly from Luther’s swollen crying eyes to his plump lips, down his Adam’s apple, collarbone and seated it onto his chest.

I didn’t need my watch to tell me how rapidly Luther’s heartbeat drummed. I could feel the vibration even with Tom’s hand as a barrier.

The other hand I guided on Luther’s lower back, index finger slowly touching the spine as the thumb deepened into his back dimples— causing a raw, unfiltered tremble.

If you dare to touch my propriety, at least do it properly, my dear Thomas.

Despite Luther’s rage still burning into those deep violet eyes, he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

He shifted his gaze full of worry to Tom, caressing his face, wiping his tears, softly kissing his lips— a kind of act so intimate that it annoyed me.

That is what only a wife and a husband should share and yet— here he was.

Gifting such care and love to another man. Right in front of his husband.

Luther was always a handful.

Stubborn.

Intelligent.

Unpredictable.

And I can’t seem to break off his spell. As well, he can’t seem to be capable of stopping his magic.

Since my dear wife is such a succubus and a tease, while holding so dearly another man, he let his hand wander past Tom. On me. On my face. On my lips.

Matching the pressure of the kiss he was sharing with Tom, he pressed his thumb on my bottom lip, dragging it painfully slow from a corner to a corner—

Opening my mouth, pressing my tongue, circling it, caressing it.

The taste of Tom’s blood filled my mouth as his little trick continued, pushing both me and Tom over the edge.

I stopped the moment as I quickly moved both me and Tom to the couch.

I placed the poor man on my lap as Luther came closer, positioning himself on him.

The weight of them two crushed my ribs, yet I couldn’t help but be curious when this filthy, unnatural act would stop.

"Lu.."

Tom’s voice echoed through the room. Not accusatory, just defenseless. As if despite his better judgment, he couldn’t put an end to this madness.

Maybe the reason his face was bloody from Luther’s knuckles was still lingering heavily between the two of them. Maybe he was scared.

He has reason to comply, to accept and crave more. But why am I lowering myself to this?

I came here to collect my wife and yet—

Not only did I catch him in another man’s home with his hands on him ( even if they were compressed into fists ), but I also indulged both of them and myself in this game.

Could it be because I am scared too?

Or that I crave the ghost of Luther’s touch on my body so deeply, so religiously that I am more than willing to accept another man in my place if I am the one controlling it?

Could I really be that desperate for a man that meant nothing to me just a few months ago?

As thoughts tangled into my mind, Luther grabbed the nape of Tom’s neck, squeezing it tightly, mimicking a mating bite. He extended his pinky to put pressure on my Adam’s apple as he bit roughly the lawyer’s earlobe.

All of that while watching me.

While confining every gulp, every breath I needed to take. Both my body and Tom’s shivered uncontrollably under this succubus’s touch.

Pressing my own throat into the demeaning little finger of Luther’s, I licked the very back of the same earlobe, meeting his lips in the process.

Gasping for air from the surprise, I used Tom’s hand to grab my dear wife’s face and pull him into a kiss as I let the other hands of mine and Tom’s hover down Luther’s spine, caressing the brim of his pants, pressing the belt deeply into his lower abdomen.

Not one person in that awful decorated apartment was sane anymore. You couldn’t tell who was touching whom and how in that messy entanglement of bodies.

Despite all of us being clothed, the windows were misted by the body’s warmth and the forbidden atmosphere.

All of us were testing the boundaries, scared not to disrupt the frigid peace that settled over the situation.

Tom shifted.

Blood drifted from his nose, down to his lips, his chin and shirt.

He pushed Luther into my arms, into the very same place he was trapped in seconds ago. His teal eyes darkened, pupils dilated and trembling, a lingering demanding gaze conquering any sense of rationality this poor man ever carried.

I looked at him not with disgust or jealousy, but with a strange understanding as if I were looking into a mirror, seeing my complexion for the first time.

The hunger, the needingness and insanity echoed from his eyes so deeply into my own being, I couldn’t help but understand.

His raw voice hit the walls of this cold, lifeless apartment, contradicting not only the logistics of this trio, but the very same location where this whole act took place.

"Got tired of being poked. Hold him still!"

The unfunny brat smirked, still bleeding from his nose as my wife gulped. In fear? In expectation? Whichever it was, it was redundant.

We were all far too gone into the filth to care about the cleanness of the act’s morality.

I grasped Luther’s hand with one of mine, placing them behind his back, on my abdomen. I used the other to turn his face to me as I couldn’t help but devour every inch of his mouth.

Oh, how I missed my wife.

Despite the peaceful sunset that glowed on us from the window wall, my lungs filled with Luther’s scent- woody, honey-sweet and a bit of lime- all wrapped in a prominent smell of rain.

The scent combined with my own could be blamed for this animalistic, immoral act, but all of us knew who was truly the instigator.

Love. Fear. The human pathetic instinct to cling to peace and desire. Greed.

Tom wrapped Luther’s legs around his waist, balancing his weight by pressing his knee between our legs- on the couch- as he let the heaviness of his body to be supported by an arm pushing into my shoulder.

He didn’t do it to break my kiss with Luther, but to keep composure. To protect the act from disruption.

He dragged his tongue slowly on Luther’s throat, provoking a tremor of my wife under my kiss. I squeezed his face harder, pulling him ever deeper, forbidding him from breathing properly until tears of pleasure rolled down his cheeks.

Tom didn’t backed down as well, overwhelming my poor wife until his nails digged painfully deep into my abdomen in a primal attempt of his body to regulate from all the pleasure. As he bit Luther’s collarbone, he dragged his hands on his chest, slowly, barely, making the thin material of my wife’s shirt brush against his skin.

Luther’s body pressed into mine, trying to escape the maddening sensation as I finally broke the kiss to let him breathe.

The room filled with gasps for air, gasps for more, inconclusive of whom they truly belonged to.

But what was the fun in staying beside the edge of the limit?

I traced my tongue on Luther’s nape of the neck, causing him not only to painfully jump on my throbbing lap, but to free his hands and wrapped them tightly around Tom, pulling him so close—

I could feel his groans on my skin.

Nonetheless, now with both my hands and my tongue free to roam, I pushed Luther from his weight more and more into my aching body, while my hands traced the circle of his back dimples.

All while nibbling on the back of his neck— not enough to mark, but enough to tease my wife out of all control.

As his moans filled the room so loudly, Tom muffled them by crashing his mouth onto his. Pressing his knee deeper and deeper, bringing all of us closer to the promise of a sweet release.

Melting under my wife’s lips, Tom seemed to lose power, making Luther more and more demeaning and greedy.

Rocking his hips, pushing my chest with one hand while gripping Tom’s wild red hair into a tight fist, you could point exactly who was orchestrating the moment.

But I couldn’t have my puppy act out. Not in front of other dogs. So I grasp Tom’s from the belt loops of his pants making his whole body crash into Luther’s and into mine.

Shifting between our laps, Luther couldn’t help but be a mess. Panting. Gasping for air. Unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest, his bare back.

And to both our surprises, there were already marks there.

My wife has been defiled before. F-cking Akna.