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My omega wakes up and purrs faintly in my chests, as a flood of slick coats my folds and soaks into my panties. Jackson’s arm tightens around me, lifts me onto my toes, almost entirely off the floor, grinding his hard and heavy cock against my soft stomach.
I whine, a needy sound, and he nips at my lips, along my jaw, to the spot below my ear that he told me long ago was his spot. He’s going to bite me there some day, but for now he just scrapes his teeth over the sensitive flesh before sucking it gently into his mouth. I moan and tilt my head farther, giving him greater access.
One of his hands slides down, squeezes the flesh of my ass before hooking my thigh and lifting me. He slides me onto the counter and moves farther between my spread legs, grinding against me in long, languorous thrusts of his hips that have me writhing against him.
His mouth never leaves me, tasting every inch of my neck, my jaw, my cheeks, my lips. He’s thorough, leaving trails of his saliva and scent on me. I know I’ll smell like him when he’s done and I fucking love that. After so many years of not having their scent on my skin, this is heaven.
For the first time, I wish I wasn’t on suppressants, that my perfume was at its full strength, that I could scent mark him the same way he’s marking me. I want him to leave here smelling like me, like he belongs to me. I want everyone to know he’s mine. They can’t have him.
A growl leaves my chest as I try to tug him closer, like proximity is the problem, and not that I have enough chemicals running through my system to stifle my natural scent. It’s there, for sure, under the descenting soap and spray, it’s there, just weak.
Jackson chuckles at the noise and pulls back slightly, sliding his hands up to cup my face as he bends in and gives me a gentle kiss. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”
My fingers clutch at his shirt, trying to get him to press against me again, but he doesn’t move. Just waits patiently, while I form the words. “I’m just struggling with my jealous omega nature a little bit.”
He smiles at me and smooths a lock of hair behind my ear. “And why is that, Vee?”
I shake my head. “Right now I’m not… because of the suppressants, I’m closer to a beta than an omega. The suppressants keep my omega nature under control, but that means I can’t… It means that my scent isn’t-” My face flames as he just lets me stumble over the words. I know he wants to hear them, probably needs them, so I power through. “I can’t scent mark you and let everyone know you’re taken, that you’re mine. And it’s kind of fucking with me.”
I swear to God, Jackson beams at me like the sun. Like I just made him so freaking happy. Which I can see. I did just admit that I want him, want them, to be mine. That they are mine. It’s a long way from me pretending I don’t know them, that’s for sure.
His lips slam down on mine and he kisses me again, devouring my mouth hungrily. But he doesn’t press his cock against my aching core, doesn’t give me what I need there. Instead, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on mine, hands still cupping my face.
“For now, it’s enough to know you think that, baby girl. We don’t want to rush anything with you. We don’t want to risk your health just because you’re worried someone might not recognize your claim on us.”
I open my mouth to argue because… that’s like an omega’s whole thing. The entire relationship between an alpha and on omega is the mutual claim. If neither of us has that mark on us, scent or bite, then we aren’t really claimed.
“Shh, Vee, listen,” he continues. “I’m yours. I have been since I was sixteen and you were twelve and you stumbled into our pack like you belonged there. I’ve been yours since you were fourteen and you beat the shit out of that girl—what was her name?”
“Brittany.”
He nods, his nose brushing mine. “Since you beat the shit out of Brittany for kissing Davis when he didn’t want it. I’ve been yours since you were seventeen and we broke your heart, baby girl. I’ve been yours for the last seven torturous years, living without you. I think I’m even more yours now than I was then, Vee. Because now I know what it’s like to not have you.” He takes a deep inhale, his ribs expanding under my hands. “I missed you so fucking much, Sylvie.”
I slide my hands around to his back and pull him into a hug, pressing my face into his chest while he buries his nose in my hair. “I missed you too, Jacks.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I never stopped loving him. That the whole time I was away from them, I felt splintered, like pieces of me were missing. But he keeps talking, cutting off the words he didn’t know I was going to say.
“I need you to trust that we aren’t going to fuck it up this time, baby girl,” he murmurs into my hair. “We’re yours. Will always be yours. And you’re ours. Forever. We meant it then and we mean it now.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe him so badly it’s an ache, but the reality is that they didn’t trust me enough with the truth back then. Whether they say they were trying to keep me from worrying or not, they didn’t trust that I was strong enough to handle the situation.
What if that happens again? What if this thing with Maxim turns into another situation he thinks I can’t—or shouldn’t have to—handle? Will he tell me what’s happening, ask how I think we should proceed, or will he just leave me in the dark again?
I want to believe it’s the first, but history has proven it to be the second.
I tighten my grip on him, bracing myself. “Okay,” I murmur, closing my eyes as I take a running leap off a cliff and I can only hope that there aren’t rocks below. “I trust you.”
Rule 20: People will try to break you, don’t let them
Vee is our scent match.
Meant to be ours.
Fucking fated.
We already knew that, of course. She wouldn’t have RMD if that wasn’t the case. Asher said as much after he finger fucked her at The Market. But now I know for sure. The truth of that fact sings through my veins. I could smell her perfume, faint as it was. I could smell that sweet omega scent in the air as I kissed her.
She’d said she wouldn’t be able to scent mark me, not until she’s off her suppressants, but the honeyed nectarine flavor of my girl lingers on my tongue, my lip, long after I’ve left her. That could be because I’ve refused to eat or drink anything. I want to savor the flavor of Vee for as long as I can. Who knows when she’ll let me kiss her again?
