Chapter Seven
Charlotte
She's not sure if the pack emails her the day after their date like they said they would.
She's not sure because she finds herself entirely unable to leave her nest, even just to walk down to the cafe to check her emails.
Her throat, and everything between her legs, aches.
That persistent throbbing and the cheque still clutched in her fist are the only things that tell her that this whole thing wasn't some elaborate vivid dream.
She finally drags herself from her nest a day later, and only because she has a shift at work and she still needs to make enough money to keep her bills paid.
The extra money they had given her would help give her a cushion so at least she wasn't living pay cheque to pay cheque, but it wouldn't keep her housed and fed indefinitely. She couldn't afford to lose her waitressing position at the bar.
She checks her email on her break at work to find six new messages. The first three are from Silas checking in, asking if she's ok, confirming whether she had cashed the cheque, and asking when she was free next.
Then there's an email from Alex that just reads "Can't stop thinking about you."
There's one from Tomas asking if she had received the other emails and telling her to get back to them at her earliest convenience. And finally, there's another email from Silas dated from an hour ago, telling her if she didn't respond, they would have to check in on her to ensure her wellbeing.
She freezes. They wouldn't... would they? They didn't even know where she worked, did they? She guessed Gwen could tell them. That anxiety has her quickly firing off an email to Silas, CC'ing the other two.
To: ssterling@
CC:abutler@, tfront@
From: hiney333@
Subject: Re: Are you okay?
I'm fine, thank you for your emails. I'm free tomorrow. Charlotte.
She types and deletes a hundred other sentences and finally settles on sending that. There's a response almost immediately.
To: hiney333@
From: tfront@
CC: ssterling@, abutler@
Subject: Re: Re: Are you okay?
Our house. 8PM.
She quickly agrees to it and then gets back to work. Her mind wanders as she carefully pours out pitchers of beer, making sure not to spill any so the bartender wouldn't yell at her.
Tomas, Silas, and Alex had paid her $50,000.
Did they like... own her now? She suddenly feels stupid for not agreeing to any ground rules first. What if they wanted to see her every night?
Have sex with her every night...? She didn't know if she could survive that, if the lingering pain between her thighs is anything to go by.
Her core still felt raw today, enough that she found herself shifting on her feet at the bar, having difficulty getting comfortable.
She hadn't even tried sitting on any of the stools, not wanting to put any weight on the swollen and sensitive nerves there.
Even her legs were sore, probably from the way they had spread her so wide for them to.
.. no. Don't think about that right now.
She feels almost afraid to cash the cheque, but her tuition was due a week ago. She can't afford to waste any more time and risk getting unenrolled.
She puts up with the innuendo from the men at the bar, gritting her teeth through the groping, and finally, as she punches out her card at the end of her shift, she steels herself to make a stop at the bank on the way home.
There's no tellers open at this hour, but she deposits it in the box and hurries home, her keys clutched in her hand for safety.
She curls up in her nest again and drifts off into a restless sleep filled with the memory of rich masculine scents and strong hands.
∞∞∞
She feels a little embarrassed the next day as she tries to figure out what to wear.
Her wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, sweatshirts, and the black leggings and baby doll t-shirts she wears to work.
Then there's the hangers of her work clothes she used to wear as an intern, but that doesn't seem appropriate either.
She settles on another pair of leggings and a boxy taupe coloured sweatshirt from a fancy athleisure brand that she scrounged out of the school's lost and found at the end of the last year.
She knows no matter what she wears, she is going to feel like a misplaced trinket in their beautiful, elegant house with their beautiful, elegant selves.
She takes the subway there, and it takes three times as long as it took for their driver to take her home. The whole way her head is filled with wandering thoughts of what they will want to do this time.
Will they all fuck her this time? Can she ask them to use lube or something?
Would that even help? During her break at work, she'd done some googling to find ways to decrease pain during sex with alphas, but all the information she had found had seemed geared towards betas, and she had no idea how much was relevant for a preaestral omega.
She pauses when she reaches their house, taking a few deep breaths before knocking at the door.
They're all there this time to answer it and she freezes when she sees them again. God, she forgot how big they were. They seemed to take up her whole field of vision.
As she takes in their scents, she feels something shift inside of her, like the part of her that had broken when she left the last time has finally snapped back into place. She takes a deep breath, finally filling her lungs for the first time since she had left.
"Hi," she says shyly. They'd seen her naked. Surely, she should be past her shyness now. Yet still, she could feel her cheeks heating.
"Ms. Hines." That rich, low voice of Tomas' greets her first. "Thank you for coming. Please come in."
They feed her again and she devours it, realizing how many meals she had forgotten to eat while they were apart. If she was trying to grow more curves to appeal to them, this was not how to go about it, she scolds herself silently.
They ask about her work, making polite small talk while she avoids any mention of the publishing house that had fired her.
She tries to find ways to answer their questions without telling the full truth.
The truth that she works in a grungy bar and that she lets strange men touch her if she wants to make enough tips to pay her rent.
She doesn't want to tarnish whatever vision of respectability they might still have of her, reducing her into some cheap thing that can be bought for the price of a beer.
As if she wasn't cheap enough, offering herself to their pack as a sugar baby.
.. she can't imagine they could have much of any respect for her after that.
Finally, finally, they lead her upstairs to Tomas' bedroom. She can already feel herself dripping in anticipation, suddenly needing their touch as much as she needed air as the memory of pleasure crashes back over her.
They surround her with their bodies, and she feels as if she might drown in their scents. Warm, woody, and smoky.
Alex is in front of her, and then he's leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. She gasps and leans in closer, throwing her arms around his neck.
Her kiss is clumsy and enthusiastic and when they break apart, he's smiling down at her.
"I've missed you, little omega."
She giggles at that, a foreign and flirtatious sound, and Silas takes the opportunity to lean in and press his lips to the side of her neck, running them up and down and nibbling playfully on her ear.
She sighs and presses herself back against him.
Tomas is on her other side, his cock already pressing into her hip with interest.
Her mind is clouding with lust, and she can feel them herding her towards the bed.
She is pressed back into the covers, what feels like a hundred hands roaming over her body. Not knowing whose hand is connected to who, simply relishing in the sensations. The omega inside of her is singing to have her alphas tending to her so attentively.
It is not until someone's hand presses down the front of her leggings and she flinches that they all freeze.
"Are you still sore?" Silas asks, his voice carefully controlled, like he's holding himself back from the disapproval she knows he must feel. She wants to whine at that, not wanting to disappoint him.
"I—" She hesitates before answering. Tomas had told her to tell them if she was in pain, so she does. “Yes, Mr. Sterling. A little, but I think it will be fine if we—"
Alex lets loose a little growl that has her wilting. She already messed this up. A little whine escapes her that she can't contain.
"Charlotte, we're not going to fuck you if you're in pain," he says, looking strangely angrily at her, and it's so out of place on his face that she shifts uncomfortably, biting back another whine.
She bites her lip, unsure how to respond. They paid her $50,000. Didn't they expect to have sex with her when they called?
"I can... take care of you another way," she offers hesitantly, reaching down to hover one of her hands over his pants buckle.
He was wearing dark jeans and an impossibly soft sweater today that felt like it was made from downy kitten fluff.
She immediately desires it for her nest, so she could rub her face in it and breathe his scent in all night.
They seemed to convene silently, each looking at each other before moving in unison.
With careful hands, they reposition her between them, so she is straddling Alex's chest as he lays down flat on his back in the centre of the bed.
Her knees are pressed up towards his shoulders and her legs splayed widely around his head.
From this vantage point, looking down at him and seeing him between her legs, nestled against her most intimate place, Charlotte cannot help the shiver that ripples down her spine.
Her body warms, even despite the awkwardness she feels perched on him like this.
His eyes are dark with desire as they stare back up at her, his hands coming to rest on her hips.