Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
After dinner last night, Cae brought me back to the apartment so we could share dessert with the other two, before curling up on the couch to watch a movie.
I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was in my bed with an Omega cuddled up to me. I had nowhere to be this morning, so I slept in, and Quin woke me up with a mug of hot coffee and offered to hang out with me while he worked online. Cae was already at work, and Lachlan was already up too.
Obviously, I agreed. He was so busy, though, that I felt like I couldn't ask him the questions burning a hole through my head all morning.
Then Lachlan told me to get dressed for our one-on-one date and released me from that particular torture.
I couldn’t tell from his tight navy blue shirt and leather jacket where he was taking me, but I opted for comfort again with a pair of light wash skinny jeans and white t-shirt.
“What is this place?” I ask, eyes wide. Lachlan grins, the pride he's feeling makes his honeyed scent stronger. I lean into him, almost tasting the plums.
Walking up to the warehouse structure, I can see large windows with wrought iron details. The metal of the building has been painted a solid black, but at the edge, I can just make out what looks like a mural in bright colors.
“My studio. Where I make all my art.” Lachlan grins, pulling the door open for me.
“Oh! I teach painting at the community center. I mostly teach the kids during summer break, but we have a few drop in courses on the weekends.” Stepping inside, I’m struck by how bright and open the place looks despite the industrial atmosphere.
The high windows I spotted from the outside bring in plenty of light, while the walls making up the area are painted a soft taupe. Green pops of life sit in various spots around the entryway on shelves and side tables on either side of black leather couches.
My eyes are drawn to the gray and black acid wash concrete that leads to a long hall, smiling as we pass several marked and unmarked doors. They are made from reclaimed wood, stained with interesting color accents. Based on the plaques, there are a few businesses here and other artists as well.
“I know. Cae and your mom spent some time over Christmas arguing about your volunteering, actually. She thinks it's a waste of time, while Cae said if it is something that makes you happy, then it's not a waste.” Before I can decide how I feel about Cae defending me to our mothers, Lach stops in front of a door at the end of the hall that has Baker inscribed on the sign and pulls a set of keys out. “This one's mine.” He opens the door, letting me walk in first.
“Oh, wow.”
The industrial feel of the warehouse carries through the open beams of the ceiling, while bright white walls make up the backdrop of the studio space. Warm wooden accents are brought in by the various easels and table tops that make up the different creative areas. The wall furthest from us has a rolling garage door that I am betting can be rolled up to allow for natural light.
This place is magical.
Old coffee cans hold a life's worth of brushes, while a section of the wall is devoted to the hanging system of different paints. I make out a rainbow of spray cans on the shelf closest to us when he catches my attention again.
“I make most of my money doing commission paintings or sculptures, but I also enjoy creating for the fun of it.” He leads me over to several canvases, showing me his different creations.
“These are beautiful…”
The movement in his brushstrokes used to create the paintings speak to the passion I know this often quiet Alpha hides. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch him as I take in his mastery.
I spend the next several minutes walking through his space that's saturated in the scent of honeyed plums. On the couch, near one of the few low widows, I am thrilled to catch hints of his pack mates’ scents. Imagining Quin watching him work in this room… My scent spikes with a flare of arousal that seems to be happening more and more.
I am just starting to explore the alcove where his kiln and clay sculpting set up is when Lach’s patience runs out. The feel of his body heat through the thin fabric of the white shirt I wore today has me shivering as he drags his lips along my neck.
“You’ve become a bit of an obsession, Harlow. Every time I pick up a brush or get my hands into clay, I can’t help but want to create something that reminds me of you. To shape out that face or the silhouette of your body. You’re a masterpiece.” The deep rumble of his voice makes me shiver with need. “I’m going to photograph you, capture the lines I want to memorize so I can create your perfect design, Little Muse.”
Lach turns me by the waist, sliding one palm up and over the side of my breast, grazing my nipple with his outstretched thumb, until he can collar my neck with his hand. Using gentle pressure, he brings my chin up to meet my gaze. The heat that had been steadily building has my core thrumming with desire.
“I am going to peel this clothing off of you, Omega. You're going to be a good girl and hold still for my pictures,” Lach says in a growly tone. Dipping his nose to my throat as I surround us with a burst of my scent before he slowly peels off my shirt, and then helps me out of my jeans. “You won’t be needing these, Little Muse.” Lach makes quick work of the light pink lace covering my breasts and pussy, pausing long enough to rub his bearded cheek along the skin he exposed.
He steps back and picks up a DSLR camera from a nearby stool.
He directs me into different poses, capturing the lines of my body and the light dancing over my curves. By the time he stops, the sunlight filtering through the high windows has started to fade, and I’m a needy mess. Before I can dress, his rumbling purr stops me.
“Can I paint you, Omega?” he grabs my hand and leads me over to the larger workbench. While I had been distracted earlier, he had gathered a selection of acrylic paints and a large canvas.
Standing in front of him as his golden eyes caress me, I squirm as he strokes his bearded jaw. I have never felt so fucking exposed, but I can’t help wanting his hands back on my body. Slick gathers between my thighs the longer we stare at each other.
Reaching out, he readies a small pallet with a mix of paint before grabbing a brush and moving to stand in front of me. I startle when instead of putting the paint on the large canvas behind me, he drags the brush along the curve of my breast, coating it in a mix of white and black. Biting his bottom lip, he continues the exploration until the whole of my upper chest is decorated with paint.
“Fuck, you look sexy as hell…” Lach says as he smirks at his handwork. The paint cools my skin, causing my nipples to pebble. “Hands,” he says, holding the brush up. I hold them out, watching as he spreads the black paint across them. After setting the art supplies aside, he steps back into my personal space with a sure grip on my hips.
“Lachlan…” I moan as he spins me around, pressing my hips against the table before bending me forward. My hands land on the canvas, my breasts pressing against the coarse material as well.
Lachlan drops behind me, spreading my legs apart, forcing more of my upper body to lie on the canvas
“I want to hear you screaming for me, Harlow. Fuck, I can't wait to fuck you over a canvas. Let everyone see it every time they come into the apartment.” His warm breath against my pussy nearly undoes my ability to stand.
I startle some when his hands trace up my thighs. His fingers slip between my folds, and he presses two inside me, forcing a gasp from my lips. Then I feel his warm tongue as he licks me. Focusing on my clit.
“Oh, Lachlan!” I moan, pressing back into him as he fingers me, teasing my clit.
My slick gushes out, and now Lachlan is moaning, his scent filling the air, mixing with mine in an intoxicating aroma.
I come hard, but Lach keeps going. My hands travel all over the canvas, my breasts creating a clear picture of what's happening.
“I'm hanging this in the nest, Harlow. Quin and Cae will love it. Come for me again, Omega,” Lachlan growls, and I gush for him, coming hard as I scream his name.
By the time I’m a trembling mess against the counter, I can barely hold myself up. Lach bends down and swings me up into his arms before taking me to a small bathroom. The white tiles gleam under soft lighting, and the sight of my naked paint-covered body has me giggling as he braces me against the counter.
“You were fucking amazing, Little Muse. Let me clean you up and get you fed.” The satisfaction in his Alpha scent has me sleepy with content. He makes quick work of removing the paint before dressing me back in my clothes.
An Omega could get used to this.
“Did you sleep in this nightgown just to tease me? Naughty Omega.” A deep voice pulls me from sleep, and I blink, finding Lachlan sitting beside me on my bed.
Cae was home early tonight and made all of us delicious fish tacos. I was nervous about how he and Quin would react to my scent, but both men couldn't keep their hands off of me. It was hot as fuck.
I roll onto my back, blinking the sleep away, wondering if I’m dreaming. Did I conjure Lachlan because I’m horny? His hand slips into the top of my silky pink nightdress, cupping my breast. The sensation forces me to gasp, and I arch. This can’t be a dream, it feels too real. Too good.
“Fuck, these are perfect. So damn perfect.” His thumb caresses my nipple over and over, drawing little whimpers from me. “I just came to bring you a little gift.” Lachlan leans down, giving me the softest, sweetest kiss that ends too soon, along with his touch on my skin.
“Gift?” I ask breathlessly.
“Chocolates,” he says, pressing this kiss to my forehead. “A dragon plushie.” A kiss to my nose. “And…” He reaches behind him on the bed and holds up a sweatshirt that’s been scent marked by him. I moan, reaching out to snatch it from him. We’re treading dangerous waters here.
He’s giving me his clothes, something that Omegas often want for their nest as a way to have the comfort of their Alpha’s scent. The plushie too since it’s covered in his and Quin’s scents. The chocolates are because Omegas are notoriously obsessed with sweets. “Good girl,” he says, when I pull the sweatshirt over my head. Instincts are a bitch sometimes.
Well, all the time.
They make resisting desires damn near impossible. Like right now. Why can’t Lachlan be my Alpha? There was a reason…
“Sleep well, my naughty Little Muse.”
It’s not until I wake up in the morning, surrounded by Lachlan’s scent, that I realize my mistakes. But they don’t feel like mistakes when they feel this good.
How am I going to survive the pack date?