Chapter Nine
Charlotte
She cries for an hour in her nest when she makes it home, their words tumbling over and over in her head, turning into cutting knives that leave gaping bleeding wounds behind.
Maybe one day it could be a nest. For someone else.
You're our responsibility. Not our mate.
We want you to be happy. How could she be happy without them, now that she knew what it would feel like to be theirs?
But they had been clear. They wanted their own omega to spoil one day; they just hadn't found her yet. They didn't want a permanent connection. That's why they had used Gwen to find them a sugar baby. A placeholder with no attachments, until they found the right omega for their pack.
She would probably be sophisticated and beautiful.
She'd be able to share her heats with them.
Her body wouldn't need days off after having sex to recover.
She feels a pang at that. What if they regretted this arrangement because she couldn't meet their needs?
They needed an omega's moderating influence, one who wasn't too frail to be properly used.
She was getting too comfortable, too attached, even knowing they didn't want her like that.
Even knowing that attachment and love wasn't what this was about.
She knew that every minute that she wasn't in their presence, when she felt those wilting little omega instincts inside of her collapse under the weight of their rejection.
But when she was with them, she had never felt safer or more cherished.
They were not like men her own age who were only interested in sleeping around and betting on their fantasy football teams. Her alphas took care of her, asked her questions and seemed genuinely interested in her responses, as if what she said mattered to them.
She realized with horror that she was falling in love with them.
How could she not? She had never been taken care of like this, never had anyone help her or care if she was hurt or okay or if she had eaten or had clothes that fit.
Omegas were meant to be cherished and cared for.
They weren't meant to be alone. And she had been alone her whole life.
∞∞∞
The next day, when she had arrived at their house at noon, they had immediately whisked her up to Tomas' bedroom. After tucking her once more into sheets that smelled like sandalwood and vetiver, they served her breakfast in bed on a beautifully set tray.
Silas and Alex took turns spooning decadent mouthfuls of custard covered French toast into her mouth while Tomas had stroked her hair until she felt like she was floating under their tender care.
They followed this by splaying her out before them as Silas gently kissed and licked her between her legs until she was a shaking mess while Tomas and Alex tongued her nipples, hands stroking between her belly and neck.
She should have known she was going to ruin it.
She was always going to ruin it.
It was never going to last.
"Please, daddy," her voice gasps, pleading, arching her back and spreading her legs further. God, she ached for them. She needed them the same way she needed air.
Silas freezes, his tongue pausing over her clit as if in shock at the word that has come out of her mouth. She whines at the loss of sensation, her hips desperately churning, seeking out more friction.
Alex and Tomas are suddenly tense as well, releasing her nipples, leaving her even more bereft. Their eyes are dark as they look up at her, all three of them still and cold as statues, as if unsure of what they heard or how to respond to it.
And a moment later, she freezes as well as realization of what she's done crashes over her. Her whole body tenses and she feels horror well inside her chest. Her eyes slam shut, and her hands cover her face as shame washes over her. Her legs try to close around Silas’ wide shoulders, as if she would shield herself from their gazes if she could, something she has not done since that first date.
"I-I'm so sorry, I don't know what—"
She trips over her words, trying to apologize, to explain, as if she could explain that away. She is horrified at herself, desperately trying to wriggle free from them so she could run away and bury herself somewhere no one would ever see her again.
Why, why, why would she call him that? Daddy? He was going to think she either had some sort of deep-rooted daddy issues (which she almost certainly did) or he was going to think she thought he was old or she was making fun of him or—
Silas spurs back into motion first, the warmest purr she's ever heard rumbling in his chest in response to her mortification. He wrenches her legs apart and dives back against her, his voice a warm gust over her centre.
"Oh, no, no, baby girl. Did daddy tell you we were done? Keep these legs open," he tells her in a deep voice, squeezing her thighs in a bruising grasp.
And then his mouth is on her again, sucking her clit into his mouth with an enthusiasm that makes her gasp.
She hears a grin in Alex's voice as he taunts her, his mouth returning to her breast like it had never left, like nothing had happened. "Fuck, that's hot, baby. Can I be your daddy too?"
She hears Silas growl a warning to his pack brother before he pulls back again, his voice crooning at her now with deep, masculine satisfaction. "Relax, baby girl. Daddy is going to take such good care of you."
His fingers come to gently probe at her entrance. "Are you still sore here?"
She thinks for a moment. There is still some tenderness, but her desire to have him inside her outweighs it.
She hasn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since that first time, of how full she felt, how they had filled her until there was no room left inside her for anything except them, drowning out all the horrible emptiness that hollowed her out when they were apart.
"N-no," she stammers, still unable to uncover her face or open her eyes.
"No what?" Silas prompts, and she can hear the smile in his voice.
She groans, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes. When she responds, it's barely a mortified whisper. "No, daddy."
It opens a can of worms.
It seemed Silas very much liked it when she called him daddy.
As he fits his fingers into her, groaning at the sensation of her body clenching down at him, it's tell daddy how good his fingers feel inside your pretty little pussy.
When Alex kisses his way up her neck and to her lips, it's give daddy a sweet kiss, baby. The taste of him fills her mouth, smoky and sweet and delicious.
As Silas works her into a needy state, she finds herself whining and pleading, unsure what exactly she is even pleading for.
"Tell daddy what you want," Alex says, his eyes sparkling with delight, gloating.
Fuck me, please. I need to feel you inside me again.
She can't bring herself to say those words.
"Do you want daddy's cock in your little pussy, baby?" Hearing those words out of Silas’ mouth makes her whole body clench, and to her mortification, she feels a little trickle of slick dribble out of her hole.
Silas notices too, and he groans like a starved man being offered an all-you-can-eat buffet.
His mouth seals back around her, licking up her offering.
And then his tongue is inside her, scouring her for more.
She gasps out a needy little sound as it loses all its artistry, burrowing as far as it can into her pussy to catch every last drop of her slick.
"Yes," she gasps finally, her mouth barely even able to form words under all the sensations building from their hands and mouths. "Please, I want you inside me."
Tomas snarls beside her, and he wrenches her away from Silas like she's a toy that it's his turn to play with. His cock is out now. She doesn't even know when he removed his pants.
He settles her over top of him, so she is straddling his legs, their chests pressed together and his cock sitting right at her entrance. She can't help grinding against it, needing friction, any friction. Their scents fill her nostrils like a heady intoxicant, sandalwood and tobacco and whiskey.
"It's my turn to fuck this perfect pussy, omega," he says. His hands find her hips, and he begins pushing her down over his length without another word.
A strangled little sound escapes her throat as she feels him stretching her out.
All three of them are big—perhaps too big—but the burning pain of Tomas' cock lights a fire inside of her.
She can't help shooting upright, her hands balancing on his chest as her body initially resists the intrusion.
But she cannot go far with his grip on her hips.
"Oh, god," her voice is high pitched and nervous.
"You can take it," he says, his voice a feral snarl. Gone was the tightly controlled man she was so intimidated by in his office. An alpha made solely of need and dominance had taken his place. "Take my cock, little omega. That's a good girl."
His words make her centre seize, copious slick coating him and easing his way inside her.
Her legs tremble as she slides slowly down his length until finally, he is fully seated inside of her, all except his knot.
A knot which is pressing insistently against her entrance, as if he might force her over that too.
She can feel her walls fluttering around him, as if adjusting to the intrusion, or perhaps protesting it. His hands rest on her hips, not gripping or moving her now, just holding there insistently.
She adjusts her legs, and the movement makes him shift inside of her, making her gasp. It wasn't bad. No... it was the opposite of bad, she thinks. But it was a lot, too.
The hands resting on her hips tighten a little as he nudges her to rock forwards, his eyes watching her expressions like a hawk.
She moans a little as he nudges the spot at the front of her sex that makes her eyes cross.
She can't help the way her nails dig into his chest, leaving crescent moon imprints in his skin.