Chapter 48
THEO
How much fresh pasta will it take to convince an Omega to build her nest? Surely that’s the start of a joke, just waiting for the punchline. Although I’m fairly certain I’m the laugh to be delivered in this case.
My search history continues to be an embarrassment.
Recipes to steal an Omega’s heart: pasta for every heat.
Three meals to make sure your Omega never leaves you.
What to cook for your Omega… pre-heat nutrition guidelines.
I wanted to make something for Wren tonight, with my secret plan being to woo her with a delicious meal, maybe a nice glass of wine, and then hopefully cross the bridge of talking about her nest. If everything had gone smoothly, maybe I’d even be able to convince her to order some things online, just so we can have it ready.
My girl is intelligent as all hell, she runs rings around me with her double threat of smarts and beauty, but where she excels in so many ways, underneath it all, there’s a scared Omega I just want to cuddle and remind that she’s safe now.
I’m not oblivious; it doesn’t take much to recognize Wren’s avoidance for what it is—she’s nervous about the commitment a nest represents.
While I can’t possibly understand what it feels like to exist as an Omega, I can’t imagine it’s easy to feel like your life isn’t your own, even more so when places like WFU make it clear with their archaic rules that society still looks down its nose at her designation.
So many things have drifted out of Wren’s control so rapidly in recent weeks, it’s only natural she’d balk at the prospect of settling down in such a monumental way.
After losing her parents and coming to Willow Falls, determined to go things alone during her time studying and getting her degree, no one would blame her for being frightened of the implications of scent matches and building a permanent nest.
If I have to be honest, I’m fucking thrilled about the prospect of my girl making this hers. It feels like I’ve been waiting for Wren, buying this big house, being ready to form a pack, long before I ever knew what that might look or feel like.
Little did I know, I’d end up with a house full of rugby players and half my fucking team moving in.
Okay. Slight exaggeration. But Renfro eats enough to remind me that a house filled with athletes and our enormous appetites is nothing short of a constant run of meal prep, grocery deliveries, and wondering who drank the last of the coffee pot without refilling it.
But as the man himself strides in, cradling an obviously worked-up Wren—being all, what happens to the rules about cuddles only on the table and sex being passed up—I know every single one of my carefully researched recipe plans and setting the mood for a romantic night in are about to be tossed in the trash.
It looks like we’ll be ordering takeout and delivering orgasms instead.
“I need you both inside me. Right now,” our girl demands.
“Right here?” Renfro’s tone is thick with arousal.
Wren keeps a firm hold on the front of my shirt, as if there’s any chance in hell I might pull away. Her scent grows stronger, and it’s obvious she likes the idea that we’re going to do this without stopping for something as sensible as deciding which bedroom and how things might go down.
I suspect our girl enjoys the freedom and thrill that comes with us pouncing on her. We might not be able to be public with our affection, but this is something of a playful compromise.
“Right here it is.” I pinch her chin. “Sit our girl on the counter.”
The tiny whimper of eager anticipation that comes out of Wren is hypnotic.
“Gonna let me taste you, Bambi?” As soon as Renfro places her on the edge of the kitchen island, he starts pawing at her clothes. “That was your plan all along, hmm? Give me that filthy little mouth on the way over here to get me all worked up?”
It’s impossible to contain my grunt of amusement, taking in the sight of his giant erection tenting his shorts.
“Just be grateful I made it all the way here, Brennan.” He mutters while stripping Wren out of her clothes.
She’s not exactly completely nonverbal; it’s the same as her mini-heat that night at the bar, but she pats Renfro’s muscles through his hoodie and makes lots of little crooning noises of approval.
“You’re a walking PR disaster, you know that, right?
” I give him a nudge with my shoulder, moving closer to help pull her top over her head.
Well, technically, my T-shirt. She’s wearing it underneath her cute pink sweater.
“Did you try and tempt your Alpha into fucking you on the side of the road, sweetheart?” I tip her chin up to meet my eyes.
Her face lights up wickedly. “It was the shorts. Their fault. Not mine.” As she grins, her teeth catch her bottom lip.
“Oh, you’re a naughty little thing.” Renfro chuckles. “Now show me that pretty pussy.”
She obediently widens her legs as he plants a big hand on each knee and pushes her to open as far as possible.
“Jesus.” I scrub a palm over my mouth. “What do you say your Alphas clean up the mess you’ve made?” She’s so goddamn wet, her drenched core is on display, slippery with slick everywhere. The shiny evidence coats her upper thighs and swollen clit.
My mouth waters as her peach essence coils in my blood, and it feels like those little tendrils of scent reach into my briefs and stroke my dick.
Renfro dips his head, diving between her lush thighs, wasting no time getting his mouth on her.
The moment his tongue flicks over her seam, Wren tosses her head back, and both hands slap against the counter behind her.
She’s panting, moaning softly, and I didn’t realize just how much of a kink I had for watching, but I can absolutely see the appeal.
These two look fucking incredible together.
Renfro’s shorts pull tight around his ass, the material bunching up his strong thighs, as he braces his weight and devours our girl.
My eyes roam everywhere, certainly enjoying a long look at the way his shoulder muscles flex, and his massive hands curl around her thighs.
But I end up drifting back up to her face, those pretty features scrunch with pleasure overwhelming every sense, and her breasts quiver with each gasping breath.
The stiffened peaks of her nipples poke through the simple cotton bra she wears, and I know I have to get my mouth on her, too.
I’m not stupid enough to pull Renfro away from her cunt.
The guy genuinely looked like he nearly died having to wait until they pulled up here at the house.
While we might be on our way to forming a pack, there are some lines you just don’t cross with another Alpha.
This can be his reward for not giving in and knotting her in an extremely public place.
I make quick work of unclasping her bra and lower my mouth to her perfect tits; the pebbled dusky rose of her nipples is enough to leave me groaning.
When I cup one side with my palm, her breast is heavy and full with arousal.
She’s so damn sensitive, the moment I close my mouth over one stiffened peak, Wren’s whimpers turn into a long, low moan.
She shudders beautifully the longer I tease with flicks of my tongue, and pluck at the tight bud with my fingers.
Renfro groans between her thighs when her hips buck against his mouth, in time with the moment I close my mouth over the soft swell of her breast. This is surely gonna tip her over the edge fast, judging by her stuttered breaths and vocal whines.
Knowing how much she’s enjoying this, I keep on sucking her nipples, leaning across to alternate sides as I tease her tits.
And when her hands start scrabbling against the counter, her back arching toward my mouth more and more, I lick a long, wet line straight up her throat.
Pressing my mouth against her ear, my own breathing is ragged. “Come on his tongue, sweetheart. Then you can have my mouth,” I whisper in her ear, and it’s the most delicious sight I’ve ever seen to watch her lips part on a gasp, chased by a moan.
Wren’s body convulses as she comes apart on Renfro’s tongue. His own grunt of desperation sounds like he might be struggling to hold it together. But he slowly licks her through it, and as much as I’m tempted to watch his mouth on her, I keep kissing Wren’s neck and run my nose along her jaw.
Renfro pulls away once she’s ridden the waves of aftershocks and kisses along her thigh. When he finally catches my eye, he looks fucking dazed.
I smirk. “You good there, Scotland?”
“Fuck.” He shakes his head, wiping the sheen around his mouth and beard on his sleeve. “I swear I nearly fucking blew my load… again.”
Wren giggles.
He growls at her, dragging his hoodie over his head. “Fucking tease. You’ve turned me into a randy little schoolboy who keeps unloading in his briefs. You like knowing your Alpha is so addicted to your cunt, huh?” The material hits the floor with a soft thud.
“Mmhmm.” She licks her lips, shamelessly watching him start to strip. “Too many clothes.” Her eyes pointedly stray to his groin.
Wren has good taste in scent matches. Goddamn, the guy is cut.
Of course, I’ve been in that kind of shape in the past, and I’m not jealous because I know how much work he puts in at training, but even so, it does kick up something in my gut that makes me wish for the version of me from a decade ago.
I can certainly appreciate the sight of that V pointing to the waistband, that dusting of dark hair, the way his chain sits against his chest.
There’s a reason Scotland is a superstar both on and off the pitch.
And here I am, with him damn near naked in my kitchen, and our Omega’s slick covering his mouth.
I clear my throat, then lightly shove his shoulder. “Gonna go full-frontal Vegas floor show for our girl?”
His stubbled throat dips, and I don’t miss the way his gaze quickly bounces toward the bedrooms. I know for a fact that Ace isn’t here, but equally, I don’t have time right now to pick apart what that look is on his face.
It’s not concern about his teammate walking in on this scene, no, there’s something more there in his eyes.
If I had to take a guess, it’s almost a look of… disappointment that Ace isn’t here.
Those thoughts are shaken away quickly. I hook my girl’s legs over my shoulders and blow over her swollen clit. She slumps backward to her elbows, filling my kitchen with the best sound in the world. One groan of pleasure swells into three.
She tastes so fucking incredible, peach and vanilla, and in there somewhere, too, is Renfro’s scent. Jesus Christ, the two of them together is no accident of fate. Their scents mingle and swirl in just the right way, and I can’t hold back or tease her.
I’m a starving man, licking and sucking and nibbling over every inch of her slick pussy. I trace her pussy lips, every ruffle, and stiffen my tongue to push inside her channel. That gets the result I’m after. Wren damn near levitates off the counter when I start fucking her with my tongue.
Look, a little healthy competition between her Alphas is only ever going to be a good thing. I suspect we’re both studying each other’s moves. Rugby players’ brains don’t switch off where that competitive streak is concerned.
The heat and musky scent of Renfro comes close, and he leans over the top of me to lavish our girl with long, deep, drugging kisses.
I lift my eyes to watch the way his strong hand wraps beneath her jaw, lightly collaring her neck to hold her in place, and the whole time his tongue strokes against hers, he palms his cock and strokes himself through his shorts.
Christ. I’m in absolute agony, my dick is a steel bar trapped against my fly, and I need to find some relief. I need to be inside my girl. It’s been too long, and while our rules have been all well and good until now, I’m ready to toss them along with the remnants of tonight’s meal.
Fucking sounds like the best sort of entrée anyway.
I don’t go slow. I eat her with renewed hunger, and grip her thighs tight, keeping her ass perched on the very edge of the counter, as I shove Wren into her next climax.
She sobs into Renfro’s mouth, legs shaking as her thighs clamp around my ears, and I go in for the kill.
I shift my mouth to wrap my lips around her swollen little bud and suck hard with rhythmic swirls of my tongue.
Above me, Wren scrambles to hold onto something, and as her orgasm races in, her arms flail. There’s a massive clatter followed by a crash. She ends up swiping damn near everything off the kitchen island within reach.
Her clit throbs beneath my tongue, and the way she falls apart with muffled cries is the best fucking sound in the world.
And then more chaos ensues. The entire chopping board clatters to the floor, a mixing bowl goes flying, and it’s like my kitchen turns into a snow globe of flour and herbs.
I give her pussy one last lick, savoring all that fresh flood of slick between her thighs, then get to my feet.
Pointing at Renfro, I decide I’m in a selfish fucking mood after that. “Fuck our girl as hard as you like… but it’s my knot that’s gonna be inside her tonight.”