Chapter Nineteen
Eden
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Hotel hopping was not ideal for a traumatized omega who had suffered a prolonged separation from her mates and was still reeling from traumatic events.
But neither was the shitty apartment she had been in, to be totally fair. It wasn't really the hotels' fault. They were very nice hotels, but they kept moving them every couple days, not allowing her to settle or properly nest.
The one they were currently in was probably the nicest so far. They had booked a suite with a whole kitchen, living room, and office, and a huge marble bathroom with a soaking tub that fit all of them. It even had soft three-ply toilet paper, which she couldn't afford even in her own apartment.
Really, it was the nest that was the real problem.
It wasn't... hers. The hotel nests were like a liminal space, sanitized and impersonal as a dentist's office.
Sure, they could tell her that it was her nest, and they would encourage her to set her pillows and blankets up exactly how she wants, purring and complimenting how cozy and comfortable it looks as she does it.
But... it's not hers. Even if the blankets and pillows from her apartment's nest are there, even if they smell like her and them, it's still not right.
Tomorrow she will be somewhere else, and this nest will be someone else's.
Or maybe it won't even be a nest at all, maybe some betas or an alpha will rent the room.
.. and that thought makes a growl build in her chest that she quickly stamps down as her head swims with the realness and unrealness of it all blending together in a confusing swirl in her head.
The sterile de-scented fluffy duvets and pillows that the hotel provided make her nose itch.
They remind her of the de-scented rubber mattress that she had lain on for days in the basement of the prison, and all the times she had had to deconstruct the warm, safe nests she built in their prison cell so they could make the beds properly to pass inspection.
The thought of that place is what finally pushes her over the limit, filling her with enough dread that she can't lay in this not-nest anymore.
She gets out of the bed and starts pacing, wringing her hands and trying not to stare at the pack-sized hotel bed where all three of her mates were still lying in the not-nest.
This space is not four paces across, not like the cell was.
This space takes twenty-four steps to reach the other side of the room.
She counts it in her head as she goes. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Turn.
She can feel concern emanating from all three of her mates in the bed, and shame wriggles in her belly. She had held it together better in prison. She didn't know why she's falling apart now, except that there was too much space. Too much possibility. Too much room to fall apart now.
Besides, she knew no matter what, they would hold her together. Whether in prison, in a shitty apartment, or in a hotel room whose nightly rate she couldn't have afforded with two month's wages.
Somewhere in the haze of her panic, Tenor orders food from what looks like every kind of takeout imaginable.
Burgers, pizza, shawarma, sushi, pho, momos, and barbacoa tacos are offered to her in turns.
She dutifully takes a few bites of each, but soon finds herself pacing again, wringing her hands and trying not to look at the not-nest.
Julius seems to think he can purr and sweet talk the bag of feral hamsters that is her excuse for a brain into calm submission.
He's never far away, softly rumbling, praising her for what a good nest she's built, admiring how good her ass looks in those panties, telling her how happy he is to finally have her in his arms, how beautiful she is.
When that doesn't work, Luke picks her up, eliciting a slight squeal from her, and heaves her into the not-nest, covering her entire body with his, ripping off her pants and pushing her panties to the side, and then he's inside her in one thrust.
Her mind goes blank, the faint screaming that's been echoing in her head the past few days finally silent for once as she gets lost in his body.
When she wakes again, one of them is there, easing their cocks inside of her until her mind whites out with pleasure.
It feels like their rut again, the way one of them is always inside of her. But they're not feral with need this time. They're reverent with her, lips and tongues and hands and cocks worshipping her body.
Anytime she feels sore, they change tactics, gently easing their cocks into her mouth instead of her centre so she can get lost in the taste of them while one of them gently rubs or palms her clit.
They're gentle and adoring and she's never felt so cherished in her life. She doesn't know how long she stays in that hazy space. Hours? Days? Years? Her body constantly buzzes with nerve endings that have been at last been caressed and patted and purred into submission.
When she opens her eyes, Julius is beneath her, reclining back against the pillows in her not-nest while he eases her down the length of his cock to ride him, guiding her to roll against him gently.
Her hands absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos. She had always liked them since the first time she saw them. They made him look so... bad. A bad boy who treated her so good.
He purrs softly for her, and she thinks he can probably feel the adoration she has for him through the bond.
He nods at one of them behind her in some unspoken communication, and the next thing she knows, Tenor is crouching against her back, crowding in behind her instead of waiting his turn.
His hand snakes around to her front, gliding up her belly, her breasts, glazing over the front of her neck before he reaches her mouth.
"What–" Her protest is cut off as he slips three fingers in her mouth, pressing down on her tongue with the pads of his fingers.
"Shhhhh. Suck," he purrs.
Without question, she sucks, pretending it is his cock and pulling it deeper into her mouth.
"Good girl," he growls. "You're such a good girl, Eden, do you know that? Make my fingers good and wet."
She does, lathing between the digits with her saliva, not even considering whether she should be embarrassed, fully lost in the haze they've built around her.
Luke crawls up the bed on her side, every movement a prowling predator.
He's unashamed of his nakedness. None of them ever seemed shy about their naked bodies, and why should they?
They were beautiful. Luke was stacked, all rippling bulging muscles that she knew could snap a man's bones without breaking a sweat.
He lounges back beside Julius on the pillows at the head of the bed, one arm propped up under his head in a way that makes his bicep bulge, his eyes boring into hers.
The intense eye contact with Luke while Tenor delves his fingers into her mouth causes her pussy to flutter around Julius, eliciting another groan from him, and she quickly looks away.
Of course, Luke doesn't allow it, catching her jaw in a pinching grip and turning her back to him. He grunts at the sight of his pack brother's fingers in her mouth. She continues to bathe the digits in saliva as instructed, her mind whirling with half-constructed ideas.
"Good," Tenor purrs as he slips his hand from her mouth. Slowly, his hand trails down her spine to the cleft of her buttocks.
Her spine arches and she resists the urge to pull away as they travel further, steadily, until they finally reach her puckered hole. The intimacy of the touch almost makes her jump, a yelp escaping her mouth, but then—
"Trust us, Eden," Luke tells her. His hand snakes around the back of her neck, pulling her body down so her chest is pressed against Julius'.
He leans over the other male's body to mouth at her neck, licking and nipping at his claiming scar and sending shocks of pleasure through her as he teases the sensitive flesh.
Her eyes close, but she nods slightly at him, acquiescing.
"If you want to stop, just say so. We'll stop, no questions asked. We'll never do anything you don't want."
Another small nod.
She feels Tenor's fingers begin to circle and rub at her hole.
Not pressing in, simply acclimating her to the sensation.
She fights the urge to shiver and wiggle, but leans forward, burying her face further into Julius' neck as Luke's hand around the back of hers tightens in a claiming grasp that sends soothing relaxation through her body.
Slowly with one fingertip, Tenor begins to slide a single finger into her ass.
Her breath catches. There's a small bite of pain, her body resisting the intrusion in such a private place. Tight. It felt unbelievably tight. Forbidden.
"Relax," Tenor's voice bites out, roughened now with desire. "You need to relax, baby. I don't want to hurt you."
She whines at his words but fights to obey, consciously softening the muscles in her pelvis, willing her body to accept him.
She feels him adjust his hand, pulling out slightly, and a second finger begins to press in. She squeaks in surprise and all three of them groan at her sound.
"Julius," she hears Luke mutter, and at his unspoken suggestion, Julius begins to grind his cock into her, his hands rolling her hips against him again, distracting her from the discomfort.
Slick drips out of her onto his pelvis, her body unsure how to respond to the sensations they were producing, only driving her further mad with need.
Her lips latch onto Julius' neck, kissing, sucking, and licking him mindlessly as her pleasure and the pressure in her bottom builds.
The sensation was like nothing she had felt before. During their rut, she had been half out of her mind with their pheromones. The hormones flooding her own system in response had loosened her muscles to ease their way.