69. Dagan
Dagan
Waking up to my omega’s mouth wrapped around a cock is the second-best wake-up I can imagine. The first would be if my cock was the one she’s sucking.
When Victor’s finished with her, she slumps forward over him. Something felt off from the moment we woke, but as her scent lifts through the air, the truth is unmistakable. Our omega is in heat.
My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. This will be our first heat as a pack.
And after this one, we’ll be bonded. I want that so badly it fucking kills me.
Scent or no scent, Clara is everything I’ve been looking for.
She’s beautiful and kind and so different from any other woman I’ve met.
I would love her with or without the scent bullshit. She’s mine.
Her eyes meet mine, pupils blown wide. Her omega is fully in charge.
To my absolute delight, and everyone’s astonishment, she signs to me through her heat haze. Something I didn’t think was possible with an omega in charge.
“ Nest. Need you all in my nest ,” she signs.
She lets loose an omega whine that has us all snapping to attention, ready to give her anything she needs.
I look to Bram. As the most dominant alpha, he’ll set the pace for the heat and make sure our omega gets everything she needs, from knots, to water breaks, to bonding bites when the time comes.
He nods, and I immediately scoop her off my brother.
His knot is already receded. Knots go down much faster in response to omega heat hormones.
She’ll need many in quick succession to help her through her long heat spikes.
I carry her to the nest door. She buries her face in my neck, finds my pulse point, and begins nuzzling and sucking at it. The sensation nearly buckles my knees.
My hands are too busy, so I let my mouth do the talking for once. Leaning down, I capture her lips in mine in a claiming kiss.
The door to the omega suite opens, and it’s the first time I’m seeing it complete. I’d seen the individual items she bought at The Nest Store a couple days ago, but never put together. Seeing an omega’s nest is normally the last step before bonding.
It’s as perfect as my omega and matches her style exactly.
The ceiling is painted in moon phases, each one so realistic it could be a photograph.
Her plant babies hang from sconces on the wall, making the place feel like a natural oasis under the sky.
Deep blues, greens, and browns make the space feel earthy and grounded.
The recessed nest area is lined with pillows.
She pulls away a little to look up at my face, clear anxiety there, as if she fears I’ll find something lacking. Nothing could ever be lacking where my omega is concerned.
I let her feet drop so I can sign, “ Perfect, Omega. Look how stunning your nest is .”
She preens a little. The omega is far more vain than the woman. Clara never preens about anything. It makes me smirk until a pained expression crosses her face. She bends at the waist, holding her center.
Omegas need packs for a reason. Real biannual heats, not just heat spikes, cause ongoing abdominal pain that can only be relieved by a knot. Or multiple knots. Over the course of several days.
“ She needs a knot, now,” Bram points out. He seems nervous. This will be his first time coordinating a pack heat, and that’s fair. I can see him overanalyzing like he always does.
I’m not going to let him overanalyze the joy that is my omega in heat. I wrap my arm around her waist and carry her into the recessed nest, laying her gently on the pillows and throw blankets she so carefully arranged.
Then I take off the clothes she obviously loathes right now. Her beautiful silk nightgown comes off in one easy motion. Victor’s already taken care of her underwear.
Her body is a dream soft in all the right places. Her breasts are the perfect size to cup in my hands, the weight of them glorious. She whines, and my alpha surges to the surface, taking charge.
In an unintelligible moment, I go from kneeling in front of her to sheathing myself in her tight, wet heat. I must have slipped into a short rut after her whine. I need to keep it together.
Bram is next to us, managing my rut to make sure I don’t hurt our omega. His shirt is off and he’s kneeling beside Clara and me.
“ Slow ,” he barks again, and I realize he must have barked me out of it. It’s the only explanation for why I’m lucid now. I look down at Clara in panic, scanning her face and body for any sign I hurt her.
“It’s ok,” Bram assures me. “You were fast, but not harmful.”
Slowly, as Bram suggested, I begin working into her, every stroke a deliberate claiming. My eyes flutter closed at the sheer ecstasy of it. She’s molten around me, her walls gripping like they never want to let me go, pulling every ounce of pleasure from my body.
She makes a delicious, desperate keening sound, and it spears straight through my control. The noise has my cock kicking inside her, and I snap forward, hips grinding in a deeper, hungrier rhythm. The slick heat of her milks me with every thrust, and I want to drown in it.
Sud denly she pushes at my chest. I’m not well-balanced on the nest pillows, so I topple sideways, and she uses the momentum to roll me flat onto my back.
She straddles me, eyes glazed with heat, and now she’s the one with all the power.
The first slow rock of her hips shatters my thoughts into a million jagged pieces.
She moves like sin. Rolling, bouncing, and gliding over me.
Her nails biting into my chest for leverage.
I grip her hips hard, urging her down, taking every inch she gives me.
Bram’s hand slides between us, his fingers finding her clit with precision, circling and pinching until she cries out. Her walls begin to flutter, then clamp down like a vice, squeezing the air from my lungs as she falls apart on my cock, coating me in slick heat.
I drive up into her and follow her over the edge, spilling deep inside her, each pulse of release wringing another broken sound from her throat.