17. Clara
Clara
I've never taken heat suppressants. Ever. I'm more into herbal supplements and natural cycles. I'm paying for that choice now.
I stumble down the stairs from my suite after the nap the guys encouraged me to take. I’m in a T-shirt and underwear and nothing else. Cramps twist through my abdomen, making every step a torturous ordeal.
This is too much. Too fast. I only met the pack two days ago.
Heat spikes can happen, but without mates, they’re more like period cramps. Light, manageable, easily soothed with vibrators or knot toys. My twice-yearly heats were always handled with non-serious boyfriends, or at heat clinics a couple of times.
But with scent matches, or worse, scent-sensitive alphas, heat spikes can become far more frequent. And far more intense.
My luck is on a consistent losing streak, because as I reach the stairs to the main level, Victor lunges out of his room and nearly knocks me over.
“Jesus fuck! What are you—?” His curse cuts off mid-sentence. His pupils blow wide, and he stumbles back, spine hitting the wall as he takes a full step away from me.
My omega doesn’t like that. A needy whine claws its way up my throat before I can stop it. Victor surges forward, then freezes, still not touching me.
Does he hate me so much he won’t even help me through a heat spike? Alphas are supposed to be driven to help their omega through one. With scent sensitivity, that need should be primal. Judging by his visceral reaction, he feels it as keenly as Dagan.
So it must be me. Not the bond.
Me.
That’s ridiculous. We’ve only just met. He doesn’t even know me!
“Can you walk?” he grits out through clenched teeth.
I shake my head. Another wave of pain brings me to my knees, still clutching the stair banister.
“Guys! Get up here!” he shouts downstairs.
A commotion, then three sets of heavy alpha footsteps thunder up the stairs. For a moment, I think Victor’s finally given in and scooped me up, but then I catch the similar-but-different scent of pumpkin and nutmeg.
Gentle eyes meet mine, then narrow at Victor. With me in his arms, Dagan can’t sign, but his expression says everything. Bram bumps Victor’s shoulder as he passes. Even Jack, the most easygoing of the bunch, looks angry.
An omega whine slips from my throat again. She’s distressed that the pack isn’t in harmony.
They carry me into Victor’s room. I’d collapsed right outside his door.
“No!” I hear Victor snap, but Bram growls in return.
“She’s in too much pain. We’re not moving her farther,” he says.Then he shuts the door in Victor’s face, leaving out in the hall.
Dagan lays me gently on the bed. Jack sits beside me.
“We’re going to soothe you. Is that okay, little Ghost?” he asks.
I nod. Words are beyond me. My omega has taken full control.
I reach for Dagan. Sweet Dagan, who’s been so kind since the morning on the beach. He’s there instantly, grasping my hand and kissing my knuckles. His other hand slides up my side.
“God, I’ve never scented anything like that. Have you?” Jack murmurs.
I k now what he means. My perfume is thick in the air. My doctor warned me that without suppressants, my heat hormones would be unfiltered and high.
Jack leans down to nuzzle my cheek and I reach up and cup his cheek. He’s so devastatingly beautiful, it makes me want to cry. Like he was carved from obsidian by a master sculptor.
I lift my face and kiss him to assure him, and his alpha, in the only way I can right now. I want him here. I need him. His beard scrapes along my cheek as he leaves my mouth to kiss along my jaw.
More cramps tear through my core. My body is begging for relief. Knots would be best, but I’ll take anything.
“We haven’t discussed boundaries with her yet,” Bram says, voice tight. “Easing only.”
The bed shifts. Hands settle on my thighs, slipping under the hem of my underwear. There’s a pause.
I nod frantically. A whine scrapes out of my throat.
Jack slides the slick-covered fabric down, exposing my sex.
Three low growls slice through the room.
I perfume again, the room thick with my scent. Their arousal blooms around me, their scents rising to meet mine. My pussy clenches on nothing. I squeal in pain.
I need them now. No teasing. No delay. Just—
I roll from my curled position and present. It's an offering, a plea, a command all at once.
A beat of stunned silence and then they move.
Jack positions himself behind me. I think he’s going to give me his knot, but instead, I feel two thick fingers slide between my folds. He spreads me open and dives in, tongue flicking over my opening before latching onto my clit and sucking hard.
I c ry out.
I need more.
Dagan is suddenly in front of me, one hand gripping my hair, guiding my gaze to his. His eyes are burning.
What do I need?
My gaze drops to his groin. Even under his jeans, the outline of his cock is impossible to miss. My mouth waters. He smiles, dark and wicked.
Jack groans as I gush more slick, then thrusts harder inside me, his mouth still locked on my clit.
The cramps begin to fade.
I brace myself on my elbows. Dagan cups my chin. He’s already undressed, and God, he’s beautiful. Lean abs. Sculpted arms. Chiseled chest. His cock is long, thick, flushed with need.
My omega briefly wonders if Victor’s looks the same, but with tattoos. I shove the thought away.
Dagan signs, slow and deliberate.
Mine .
I perfume so hard the room spins. He slides in an inch. I don’t wait. I take him the rest of the way, gagging myself as he hits the back of my throat. It's pure heaven.
“Shit,” Bram groans nearby.
I glance sideways.
He’s fisting his cock, slow and steady. “Sorry, Ghost. I couldn’t help myself. Is this okay?”
I let out a low, needy sound and buck into Jack’s hand. He adds a third finger, fucking me deep and fast.
“You like seeing your alpha lose control over you?” Jack murmurs.
I nod around Dagan’s cock, then ease back, swirling my tongue around the head before releasing him with a wet pop.
I t urn to Bram and open my mouth.
“You sure, Ghost?”
I answer with a lick up the tip of his cock. It jumps.
He snarls and threads his fingers into my hair, tipping my head back before thrusting in. He hits deep, then pulls out, guiding me back to Dagan like I’m a gift to be shared.
I love this.
I grab Dagan’s hand and guide it to my hair. He fists it tight and drives back into my mouth. My slick gushes again around Jack’s fingers in my pussy. Slick coating everything.
And then he presses his thumb to my clit…
…and licks over my puckered asshole.
The electric shock shoots from my ass to my clit to my soul.
He swirls his tongue, once, twice, then plunges in.
Once. Twice. Three times. And I break.
I come hard.
My back arches. I scream around Dagan’s cock. He thrusts deep, cutting off my air in little bursts that only heighten the pleasure. The orgasm rips through me like a storm causing wave after crashing wave.
As I come down, my mind clears. My omega retreats.
And I’m left… confused.
Embarrassed? Satisfied? Mortified? Seriously, my omega couldn’t have waited a week?
My scent must shift—because suddenly, they’re all on me.
“Apple, what’s wrong?” Jack asks as he turns me over, covering me with his body. His aroused, s’mores-sweet scent is everything.
“I-I don’t know. We just met. I’ve never taken heat suppressants, so that’s why…” I trail off.
They don’t look upset. Just calm. Steady. Happy.
“ Ghost,” Bram says gently, “there’s nothing to apologize for. We’re mates. None of us did this out of obligation.”
Dagan signs something quickly.
Jack translates: “We most definitely wanted to.”
I smile as Dagan nuzzles under my chin, Bram curls around my side, and Jack slides down to use my thighs as a pillow.
We fall asleep like that.
In Victor’s bed.
Dinner forgotten.