Episode 34 Love in the Age of Instagram
Florence
“Tip your chin back, just a bit, cor mea.” Forsythe’s gentle command drags me out of the sated bliss I’m floating in, my eyes fluttering open, even as I adjust my body to do as he said. “Perfect. Now, give me those sweet lips of yours.”
I hum and do that too, tilting my head toward him. Why wouldn’t I?
Lips brush over my shoulder. “Court, you’re blocking them, shift down just a bit.”
“Blocking what?” I ask sleepily.
“Your mating marks, bubbles.”
“Mmm,” I stretch, my toes curling at the memory that I am mated, bonded. That I can feel them in my chest, just as content and sated as I am. God, I love that. Love them.
“Love the feeling of you in my chest, too,” Thayer murmurs, from somewhere on my left. His fingers brush over my cheek, making me smile and hum again.
“Eyes open, love,” Forsythe murmurs. “Keep the smile.”
I try to, but it flickers slightly when I find he’s got his phone in his hand with the screen on the camera app. Before I can protest he hits the button over and over, making sure we’re all in the frame.
Forsythe smooths his hand down the back of my head. “What do you think, omega?”
I look at the picture he’s just taken and can barely believe the woman in it is me. I’m glowing. And not just from all the orgasms I’ve just had. My skin is flushed and I look absolutely sated, freshly fucked and utterly in love.
Just like all five of the men in the picture, tucked all around me in a cuddle puddle. All of our mating marks on full display, while they drape their bodies over mine strategically to hide my good bits.
“I think we look beautiful,” I say honestly.
“I think it should be the new official pack photo. The one hanging in the palace for every visitor to see as soon as they enter,” Court murmurs against my breast.
I giggle at the idea, as Forsythe pulls his phone closer to him, typing on it one handed since I’m laying on his other arm. “I’m sure the queen would love that.”
Court hums. “Don’t really care what she would love, Pixie.”
“Well, I don’t want millions of people to see it.”
“Hmm,” Thay hums vibrating against me. “I think it might be too late for that, killer.”
“Wha-” my eyes slide back to Forsythe’s phone, to the screen that is open to his Instagram page, to the picture he just took, pinned to the top of his profile. It already has thousands of likes.
In a handful of seconds.
Forsythe just announced to the world, to his grandmother, that we’re bonded. That they chose me and there is no going back.
“The blurb is perfect, Sythe,” Thayer says, his eyes on his own phone.
That catches my attention. “What-What does it say?” My voice comes out a little timid, like I’m not sure I really want to know.
Forsythe opens the post and holds it in front of me, letting me read it for myself.
Cor mea.
Our heart. Our center. Our mate.
Ours from the beginning.
Nothing else matters.
I blink at the words, out there for everyone to see, and my chest gets tight. Not like it used to, not with panic that steals my breath and makes it hard to focus, but with… god, I don’t even know what. Love? Gratitude? Maybe some worry in there, too.
Court makes a startled sound when I shift around and scramble up until I’m practically laying on top of Forsythe, my naked body draped over his. “Are you sure? This is a big deal. Everyone is going to see that.”
He just smiles, white teeth flashing in his brown beard.
“That’s the entire point, cor mea. I don’t want to go one more moment without the world knowing you’re mine—ours—and that we belong to you, too.
No one will be able to argue with that picture.
Every single one of us looks so bloody in love with you, that it’s obvious it’s not a manipulation or a scheme. ”
“Hmm.” My knees settle on either side of his ribs, my cum and slick cover pussy pressing into his rock hard abs, while he slides his hands up and down my thighs.
“I’m still worried,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for this, for loving me.”
His expression goes soft, softer than I’ve ever seen it before and it takes every ounce of my will not to just belly flop into that softness and let him cradle me. I need him to hear this, all of them, actually. I glance around the room and find the rest of our pack.
“I don’t regret it,” I say first to make that clear. “I meant what I said, I would have bonded you back on that island if you’d said it’s what you wanted. But I do think… maybe we should have done this through the proper channels? Isn’t this like… treason?”
Court chuckles and presses up to trail kisses along my shoulder. “The proper channels? Really? You wanted to go to the queen and petition for the right to bond? You know she never would have agreed.”
Grieves nods. “Much better to commit treason first and ask forgiveness never.”
I frown. “Right but-”
“No, cor mea,” Forsythe cuts me off. “No buts, no regrets, no undoing this.” He takes one of my hands and presses my palm flat against his chest, right over his beating heart, steady, sure, strong, just like him.
“You can feel us now, yeah?” His other palm presses into my sternum.
“You can feel us right here.” I give a jerky nod.
“Then feel us, Florence. Feel how we feel about you, sweet girl.”
I blow out a breath and close my eyes. It's not necessary to find the bonds in my chest, to feel them. I mean I can feel them at every moment. There in my chest, filling me up more than I ever thought I would be.
All five bonds are steady, solid, warm, and happy. So happy.
Grieves’ bond is the first I latch onto, solid and immovable, like a wall at my back—fierce, protective, quietly furious at the idea of anyone daring to touch what’s his.
Court’s wraps around it next, bright and warm, a steady hum of reassurance threaded through with humor, like he’s already planning how to charm the entire world into accepting me.
Thayer’s is sharper, more controlled, but no less certain. A precise, unwavering certainty that this was the only logical outcome, that there was never another choice worth considering.
Piers’--my darling dimples--his feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, soft and aching and full of relief, like he’s been holding his breath for years and is only just now allowed to exhale.
And then there’s Forsythe. His doesn’t wrap around me so much as it settles into me, deep and resolute, a quiet, immovable vow that steadies everything else. No hesitation. No doubt. Just him, standing at the center of it all, choosing me—again and again and again.
And laced through it all is love. So much love. More than I could ever hope to swallow or soak in. A veritable deluge of it.
Well… fuck.
Tears prick my eyes. “But… what if she exiles you, Sythe?”
The smile he gives me is soft, but resolute, just like his bond in my chest. “Then it’ll be worth it, cor mea. You’re worth everything. Having you is the single greatest gift and honor I could ever hope to receive.”
He means it too. I can feel it in my chest. Feel his certainty in his words, that he has no regrets in bonding me, in posting that picture, in claiming me so publicly. Feeling him be so sure settles me, settles everything, if I’m honest.
“Well, then,” I say, shifting my hips until the tip of his cock is wedged into my entrance. “Perhaps I should show my appreciation.”
His hands move to my hips, gripping tight as he tilts his head back, tendons in his neck tight. “No appreciation necessary for doing what I should have months ago, cor mea.”
Court snorts and reaches for me. “If you don’t want her appreciation I’ll take it.”
“Mine,” Forsythe snarls, hips snapping up as he tugs me onto his cock roughly.
I let out a breathless half laugh half moan at the intrusion, my hands bracing on his chest to help balance me as we rock together. “Yes,” I tell him, nails digging into his chest. “Yours.”
Later, I’m dozing. No, who am I kidding? I’m fully asleep when the sound of a phone ringing reaches my ears. My phone, I realize as I swim up through the haze of multiple orgasms and warmth of my bonds.
“Can’t someone do something about that ringing?” Court mutters.
“Sorry,” I murmur back, reaching out blindly to stroke my fingers over whatever bit of skin I can find in apology. “I’ll get it.”
“Don’t answer it,” Thayer orders, pulling me tighter to his body, when we’re already as close as we can get.
I hum and snuggle closer to him, rubbing my nose against this chest, only to groan when it starts ringing again.
“Seriously,” the prince growls, “just ignore it. You need to sleep.”
My brain blinks online slowly. So fucking slowly. I’m all kinds of hazy, blissed out on new mating bites and too many orgasms. But there's something important. Something I’m supposed to be paying attention to.
But how can I be expected to focus when I have five new bonds buzzing in my chest. Just wait until I tell Haven-
“Haven!” I cry while bolting upright. Court makes a startled noise from where he’s all but wrapped around my waist, but I ignore him, lunging to the side toward where my phone is ringing for the third time. “It’s Haven. She’s- something must be-”
Grieves presses my phone into my hand calmly. “It’ll be okay, bubbles,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder before climbing out of the bed.
I stare after him for a moment, before fumbling to answer my phone.
“What is it?” I blurt out by way of greeting. “What’s happened?”
“Hello to you too, Florence,” Jude drawls back, but there’s a hint of worry under his tone that he can’t hide.
“Jude.”
“Okay, okay, first Haven’s just fine. So I don’t want you to worry, but it seems the baby has decided to make an early debut.”
I blink at the dresser on the other side of the room trying to force my orgasm soaked brain to make sense of what he’s saying and failing miserably. My chest thrums with feelings of calm, of reassurance, from my pack and I take a deep breath. “Tell me what that means.”
“I thought it was obvious, Ren. Haven’s going into labor.”