Chapter Thirty-Two – Rourke
I lean over the edge of the bed and snatch up the folder. It’s not easy to do anything that doesn’t involve me tearing off my clothes and joining the three naked figures beneath the sheets, but like I said, this is important. It’s something I’d like to discuss before things get too carried away.
And with Jess? Things have a habit of getting carried away before you know it.
Jess’s gaze falls to the folder, and she sucks in a hard breath.
She knows what it is, what it means. It’s our pack paperwork, which means our pack is now an official pack.
What she doesn’t know is what that pack is called.
Asher and Mason agreed with me when I brought it up; neither of them needed convincing.
I scoot closer to her, as much as I can given how she sits between Asher and Mason, and I hand her the folder, letting her see it for herself without saying another word.
Her slender fingers open the folder and her eyes scan the front page. “We are officially a pack,” she whispers, the corners of that luscious mouth curled upward. She glances at me. “Guess I’m your match after all.”
“Keep reading,” I advise her, knowing she hasn’t seen it yet.
Those beautiful amber eyes fall back to the paper, and it’s a long few seconds before she gasps. Her brow furrows, and then she looks between me and the others, clearly not knowing what to say right away. “What… what’s this? Pack Dryers? But…”
“I know how much you miss your parents. I thought, instead of making Pack Cunningham or Pack Thompson, we could be Pack Dryers,” I say. “Asher and Mason agreed. If you want something different, we can—”
Jess doesn’t let me finish. “No. No, I… I just wasn’t expecting this.
” She bites her bottom lip as she closes the folder.
“It’s perfect.” The smile that graces her face right then is a mixture of sorrow but also happiness, sorrow that her parents are still gone and the childhood she should’ve had was taken away, but happiness that the Dryers name wouldn’t die out with her.
My mom is very supportive of the whole thing.
I might be her only child, but I’m far from the last Cunningham.
Same with Asher and Mason; they have male cousins and other relatives.
Jess is the only one who carries a name and a bloodline that would cease to exist legally if the pack was named something else.
She holds the folder against her chest and sighs. “Thank you.”
Asher is the one who tells her, “You don’t have to thank us. You’re ours. We’re all Dryers now.” He kisses her cheek the same moment Mason starts to rub circles on her back.
I offer to take the folder away and I set it aside.
The other two alphas scoot to make some room for me.
I tug the blankets down so I can get my hands on her, and when I do, I lower my nose to her hair, breathing her in before my head dips lower, to the crook of her neck, where those wonderful scent glands are.
“You’re all ours,” I repeat what Asher said.
“You have my heart, mate. My soul. I love you more than life itself, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.
” I gently kiss the sensitive skin over her scent gland, and she preens against me as she falls backward, and I follow her, pinning her down.
Now that that’s done with…
I reach between us and undo my pants, but before I can pull myself out, Jess stops me by placing a hand on my shirt and saying, “Wait.”
Though my cock is aching to be buried inside that sweet, sweet pussy, I freeze and wait.
She swallows hard. “Two things. One, I already asked Asher and Mason before you got here, but… I want you to move in.” As she says that, I can’t help but grin at her. Was there ever any doubt that I wouldn’t move in?
Please. The entire city could not keep me from her.
With a nod, I say, “What’s the second thing?”
Again, she swallows, and this time I detect a bit of hesitation, almost like she’s afraid to say whatever it is—and that makes my mind race. What could have her so tongue-tied now, after everything we’ve been through together?
“I want,” she pauses, licking her lips, “I want you to bite me.”
My heart damn near skips a beat when she says that. She might not have said those three words back, but her declaring she wants a bonding bite… that’s something that goes hand-in-hand with declarations of love, and my canines ache with sudden need.
“Are you sure?” I ask her in a whisper.
She nods. “Yes. Bite me. I want to feel you—all of you—even when we’re not together. I want to look in the mirror and know I’m yours.”
How on earth could any alpha worth his cock say no? I give her a heated kiss before I murmur, “Then I’ll bite you, mate. I’ll bond us together forever.” After another kiss, I have to roll off her to fully take all my clothes off.
A bonding bite isn’t something you give when you’re still half-clothed. Oh, no. Skin needs to be on skin. You need to be as close as humanly possible. Or maybe that’s just me being a bit of a romantic.
I manage to take off my clothes in record time, and I’m back on top of her within moments. Asher and Mason are chomping at the bit to bite her, but seeing as how I’m her scent match and I’m the leader of this pack, I’ll be the first to sink my teeth into that tender skin.
I position myself between those spread legs and enter her. Her body needs no adjustment; she’s wet as hell thanks to the others. I slide inside her with no resistance whatsoever, and my chest lets out a low growl of approval once my cock is buried deep.
I will never get over how amazing she feels. Never. That is a promise. I will be addicted to this omega until the day I die.
“You feel so good, mate,” I croon to her, praising her in a way that makes her squirm more beneath me. The words of affirmation make her pussy clench around my length, as if she’s trying to draw a knot deeper inside of her. “I could lose myself inside you all day.”
Though my canines ache, I have not a care in the world as I claim my mate.
She moans and cries out under me, and after a while I arch my back and hit just the right spot inside of her.
The orgasm that follows creates more of that delicious slick, but I’m too focused on that tender neck of hers to pay attention to the free-flowing slick oozing out of her as I fuck her.
Keeping my cock buried in her while also getting at the right angle near her neck isn’t too easy. It requires a lot of bending on my part, some of which isn’t too comfortable, but I need to bite her right this second or else I’ll lose my damn mind.
My lips run over the skin on her neck, and she moans softly, gripping my sides, wordlessly begging for it.
I lick the skin above her scent gland, and she shivers.
I don’t wait a second longer; I sink my teeth into her, breaking the skin easily.
Not too deep, but just enough to taste that coppery metallic blood in my mouth.
Just enough for my teeth to graze that scent gland and lock us together.
There have been countless studies about bonding bites.
Some people don’t even believe in them. Others swear by them.
To most, it’s simply magic, an invisible bond that locks mates together for life—it also makes it damn near impossible to go against said mate.
It is the ultimate declaration of forever, even more so than a ring on a finger or a last name change.
I don’t linger there longer than I have to, but once I do pull my teeth out of her skin, I lick the wound as I feel the bond snap into place. It’s like I can feel her inside me, like her soul has mingled with mine.
Honestly, after that rush deep within my heart, I agree more with the people who think bonding bites are more magical than anything else.
Jess breathes hard, and the look she gives me after I straighten out tells me everything I need to know: she feels the bond, too. It’s there, permanently locking us together. We’ll feel each other, even when we aren’t near one another. If she’s super upset and I’m at work, I’ll know.
I fuck her harder after that. How could I not? This omega is mine in every way now, and I prove that to her in how I claim her. I’m blinded by my sheer desire for her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Whatever the future holds for us, we’ll handle it together, the four of us. We’re a pack now, and this omega is our mate. Jessica Dryers may have thought she wasn’t anyone’s match, but she’s never been more wrong.
She’s ours.