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Dutch pushes into my back while Bish and Reese slide in at our sides, continuing the four-way touch that keeps me from throwing claws.
“You’re doing so good already,” Reese murmurs. “Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt.” I shift on Jin’s lap. I’m wearing panties under the paper gown, but the position forces my legs so wide, I can’t ignore the urgent drumbeat, pulsing deep inside.
I bite my lip. “But if I lose control and hurt you—”
“You can’t,” Jin rumbles.
“But if—”
“Queen.” Bish drags my lip from my teeth and rolls the bitten spot between his fingers. “To us, you’re only sweet.”
He hasn’t straightened the collar I ripped open, flashing throat like an invitation to fucking ruin him.
I need him to ruin me.
I scrape a tempting stripe across Bish’s freckled collarbone. “What if I’m not sweet? What if I’m spicy or sour or—”
“I wanted you when you were a dude.” Reese’s beard tickles my earlobe. “And when you were a gangster.”
“You’re ours no matter what,” Dutch rumbles. “Our only mate.”
Their purrs crumble my walls, and before I can stop my mouth, the needy heat pheromones dredge up the question buried at the bottom of my heart. “Why would you like me?”
No one ever likes me.
I’m always wrong, never enough, never what was ordered.
“Love. How could we not love you? Marisol.” Jin’s dominance flares. A wordless command hooks its fingers under my chin, forcing me to meet the black-water whirlpool in his eyes. “You’re our light.”
Kitten claws paw my heart.
I want to be soft and sweet and give this pack every part of me—be the omega of their dreams.
But even dripping on Jin’s lap, ready to claim and be claimed until they have to yank that emergency cord and summon a crash team to pull me off their cocks, I can’t keep pretending to be something that I’m not.
I’m not an omega.
I’m a gamma.
A weapon.
I’m only soft for four alphas in this world, and if anyone tries to separate us, ever-a-fucking-gain, I’m not going to hide under the sheets.
I’ll pull the trigger.
A scary-possessive snarl rumbles from my core. I don’t try to hide the monster. Let them see it all. “I won’t always be good. But I’ll always be yours.”
“Be bad. Be anything you want.” Bishop nips my knuckle, the promise of his teeth curling my toes. “I want to taste all of your flavors.”
“Cheezus rice,” Dutch groans. “Just let me taste that fucking cake.”
Reese’s breath sizzles in my ear. “Save me a slice.”
My alphas’ scents swirl, hot and cold, comforting and electric.
Fresh and crisp, sweet and savory.
