Page 64 of Talk About… History

“You don’t have to say anything. This is not us pressuring you, Avery,” Cohen promised. “We’re taking this leap, but we want you to know you’re welcome here any time for any reason, to stay, to visit, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I nodded, unable to form words as emotion burned at my throat, making it hard to swallow it down.

The guys gave me space to process. Ford went to the yard to win over the beagles, Mason following to watch over them.

Arden ducked inside with Cohen, likely for snacks knowing Cohen’s love of making sure I ate.

The truth was, I loved this place. Cohen’s house was spacious, yet cozy, a good mix for an omega who couldn’t stand nesting now. I had no clue what a heat would bring, but I’d figure it out then.

Everything about this place felt like home. More so than the one I grew up in. Now it was too crowded and felt like a different life. I’d be meeting with new contractors soon to build but now I felt reluctant.

My guys were moving in here. This felt like pack. Would my new place? Would they be willing to move?

Fuck, I knew melding five lives would be complicated, but never imagined just how much.

My omega craved being around them, wanted to be close and give them everything and take what they offered.

“Hey, don’t overthink this,” Mason said. I hadn’t even realized he was coming back and jumped. He chuckled and started to sit, then changed his mind and came over, picking me up out of my seat before taking it and placing me in his lap. I shifted so I could face him, ignoring the bulge in his pants since I knew that wasn’t why he did this.

“Tell me something about yourself, omega,” Mason said, his voice low and intimate. I studied his blue-green eyes in the firelight, trying to think of something to share.

“Once when I was first coming into my designation, I was convinced everyone could scent me. I walked into class and heard someone complaining about it smelling like garlic. I was convinced that my scent was garlic and was horrified for a solid three months until my friend reassured me it wasn’t garlic,” I admitted, laughing at how silly it was. Coming into our designations early in college was a tumultuous time at best.

He let out a raspy laugh, his fingers tracing circles on my thigh as he listened.

“Definitely not. You smell like sweet cranberries and a hint of warming spices, it’s the perfect blend and when you are turned on it gets sweeter, or when you’re frustrated it gets a bit more tart. I love it,” he said, leaning in and running his nose along my neck. I groaned, head falling to the side instinctually as my alpha scent marked me, his stubble eventually teasing my sensitive skin as he nuzzled in even closer.

My pussy throbbed, the ache sharp and needy. My hips rocked against him, mind blank and riding on instinct as fire coursed through my veins.

“So responsive for me,” he teased, moving away from my neck to press his lips to mine. Mason didn’t just kiss, he devoured, taking everything he wanted and leaving me shaking and needy in his wake.

“Fuck,” I groaned as his hips met mine, our bodies connecting enough to drive me crazy but the barrier of clothing driving me insane.

I don’t think I’ve ever needed anything more than I needed Mason in that moment.

“Let me taste you?” he begged, voice breathless as he broke the kiss. A whimper escaped at the idea. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered about the other guys and the fact we were at Cohen’s house, but it was easily drowned out as his fingers skimmed down my sides.

“Yes,” I managed to choke out, giving him the permission he wanted.

Mason stood with us before turning and placing me in the chair. Cohen’s furniture was wide enough he was able to slide off my jeans, pulling my ass to the end of the chair so I was forced to wrap my fingers around the arms so I didn’t fall.

He groaned as he dropped to his knees, leaning in and running his nose over the lacy black thong I was wearing. Mason breathed in deep, as if he were savoring my scent.

His eyes darkened and he slid them off so fast I nearly tumbled, tucking them in his pocket before his hands ran up the back of my thighs, lifting me slightly and holding me there.

“Brace yourself, omega,” he warned, voice pure gravel and sin before he dove in.

His tongue had to be magic. Every stroke of his tongue through my slick had my body trying to buck against his mouth. His hands held me in place as he continued to savor my taste, each movement just the right amount of pressure to send me careening straight to an orgasm.

He swirled the tip of his warm tongue over my clit before sliding down and thrusting it into my core, tongue fucking me relentlessly then doing it all over again.

The rhythm was just enough to not let me come, my whimpers turning into babbling pleas before he gave in.

He let go of me with one hand, pushing two fingers into my core as he sucked hard on my clit.

I shattered for Mason, my cries loud enough I knew this wouldn’t be a secret.

My body quaked as my thighs clenched around him, pussy pulsing with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

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