“You’re not in heat, are you?” Archer asks.
I shake my head. “No. I’m on suppressants. I haven’t had a heat in a long time.”
Ryan glares at me, letting his Alpha show through in his bark. “No more suppressants. After tonight, that’s it. Pack bonded Omegas don’t need them. Throw them away.”
“Of course,” I reply. Honestly, I’ll be glad to be rid of the tablets and the side effects that come with them. When I go into heat, I know these men will take care of me.
Tristan is the first to lean in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that’s soft at first, exploratory. His hands cup my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks, and I melt into it, tasting the sweetness of honey on his tongue from whatever he was baking earlier.
The fire’s warmth dances on my skin as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing gently against mine. I feel the others watching, their Alpha scents intensifying—Jack’s spicy wildfire, Archer’s stormy leather, Ryan’s crisp command—all blending with my blooming Omegaperfume, floral and needy, filling the room like an aphrodisiac.
“Beautiful,” Tristan murmurs against my lips, his voice a soothing rumble. He pulls back slightly, eyes locked on mine. “Tell us if it’s too much.”
I nod my head. “More.” My hands tug at his shirt, and he obliges, stripping it off to reveal a lean, toned chest. He’s not as bulky as the others, but there’s strength there, caregiver’s hands that know how to nurture. He helps me out of my top, then my pants, leaving me bare on the couch. The blanket pools around my hips, and the cool air pebbles my nipples, but their gazes warm me. All appreciative, focused solely on me.
Tristan positions himself between my legs, kneeling on the floor, his breath hot against my thigh. “Let me taste you first,” he says, voice husky.
His fingers trace my inner thighs, parting them gently, and I gasp as his tongue flicks out, lapping at my folds. I’m already wet, slick with arousal, and he groans at the taste, like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. “So sweet, Lola. Perfect.”
The sensation is electric. His tongue circling my clit with expert care, slow and deliberate, building the pleasure without rushing. I arch my back, one hand threading into his hair, the other reaching out blindly. Jack catches it, interlacing our fingers, his thumb stroking my palm.
“We’ve got you,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss myshoulder, his free hand cupping my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
Archer mirrors him on the other side, his mouth on my neck, sucking gently where Jack’s bond mark scars my skin. The bond hums, amplifying everything, but it’s not jealous, it’s inclusive, pulling them all in.
“Feel that?” Archer murmurs, his voice a low growl. “All for you.”
Ryan watches from above, his hand resting on my knee, a steady presence. “Breathe, Lola. Let it build.”
Tristan adds fingers now, sliding two inside me, curling to hit that sensitive spot while his tongue works my clit. The dual assault has me moaning softly, the sounds muffled by Jack’s kiss as he claims my mouth.
Scents overwhelm me: vanilla from Tristan, spice from Jack, leather from Archer, all undercut by the fire’s smoky embers and my own floral heat. Taste of Jack’s playful energy on my lips, the salt of sweat as Archer nips my earlobe. Touch everywhere—hands, mouths, bodies pressing close.
The orgasm builds slowly, a wave cresting gently at first, then crashing as Tristan sucks my clitjustright. I come with a shudder, clenching around his fingers, my cry swallowed by Jack’s mouth. They don’t stop. They ease me through it, supportive murmurs filling the air.
“Good girl,” Ryan croons.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Archer whispers.
Tristan pulls back, lips glistening, eyes shining with satisfaction. “Ready for more?” he asks, always checking.
I nod, breathless. “You first. I want to feel you inside me.”
He sheds his pants, his cock hard and ready. Perfect in size, veined and flushed. He positions himself at my entrance, rubbing the head against my slick folds. “Slowly,” he promises, pushing in inch by inch. It’s a gentle stretch, filling me with warmth, and he rocks slowly, focused on my reactions. His hands brace on either side of me, body hovering, allowing the others access.
Jack and Archer continue their attentions. Jack’s mouth on my breasts, sucking and teasing, Archer’s fingers finding my clit, rubbing in time with Tristan’s thrusts. Ryan kneels behind the couch, his hands massaging my shoulders, leaning down to kiss me upside down, a new angle that adds to the sensory overload.
Tristan’s pace is steady, loving, each thrust angled to graze my inner walls just right. “You feel amazing,” he breathes, eyes never leaving mine. The connection is intimate, supportive, and I feel cherished, not just fucked. My hands roam his back, nails digging lightly, urging him on.
The pleasure builds again, slower this time, a deep burn. “Come with me,” I urge, and he does, thrusting deeper a few times before spilling inside me with a soft groan, his body trembling. His teeth graze my shoulder a moment before they plunge in. The burn of the claiming mark’s pain quickly erased by the sweetecstasy of being claimed by an Alpha. My Omega purrs with content.
Tristan kisses me tenderly as he pulls out, then moves aside, stroking my hair. “Thank you, Lola. I can’t wait for our next time.”
As Tristan kneels back after his tender penetration, I feel the aftershocks still rippling through me, my body humming with satisfaction. But there’s more to give, more to take. Archer’s eyes meet mine, that intense stare now softened with a promise of care. He helps me shift positions, his strong hands gentle on my skin, lifting me as if I’m precious cargo.
“On your hands and knees, if that’s comfortable,” he says, voice low, checking in again. I nod, positioning myself on the wide couch, the soft cushions supporting my weight. The fire’s coals glow red, casting a warm light that dances over our bodies, highlighting the sweat glistening on Archer’s muscled chest as he kneels behind me. His cock, that massive length, nudges my entrance, still slick from Tristan.
“Yes,” I say, anticipation thrumming.
