Page 42 of Heat Clinic

My answer is a purr as I nuzzle his pecs, enjoying the way our scents blend. And Tom’s scent too. I can smell the beta on him, like a buttery cookie soaked in a chai latte. Sam’s scent is there as well, already stuck to my skin, and combined, we smell like the bakery counter in a coffee shop.

The mattress that pads the floor nest dips as Sam and Tom climb in and get settled. I’m too tired, too content to open my eyes and check its structural integrity. It smells like pack, and that makes it perfect.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” Tom whispers.

“Good thing you always wanted a big family,” Marcus answers just as softly.

Tom is curled up against Marcus’s side, and his fingers trip down my spine before brushing against the curve of my butt and playing with its bounce.

I squirm, my cozy and content feelings slowly replacing with horniness as he strokes a finger across the seam of my ass and thigh and grazes my pussy in the process.

“Stop teasing her, brat, unless you want to fuck her yourself because she drained my balls and I need a minute.”

Fucking?

My heavy eyelids crack open as I wiggle on top of Marcus in search of more pussy touches. He bands an arm across my upper back and keeps me in place on top of him. “See what you started?”

“Refractory period getting longer with age, old man?” Sam asks from the other side.

“Oh!” Tom cackles. “You’re in for it now. He hates being teased about his age. That’s why I do it so often. You especially don’t want to talk about his gray hairs or sagging balls.”

There’s jostling and the sound of fabric sliding on fabric as Marcus works a hand free and brings his palm down on Sam’s ass with a sharp crack that makes my pussy tingle from memory. I feel like Pavlov’s dog. Sam yelps and scoots away, and something tells me that my beautiful nest is ruined. Sure enough, when I look, I notice that one wall of it has completely fallen. He knocked down the keystone blanket that was holding it all together.

“Why did I get spanked and not him?” Sam asks.

I growl and stretch my arm out and try to reach for it, but Marcus holds me in place and I can’t.

“Oh, we’ve upset her,” Tom says.

Sam sits up and tries to put the nest back together, but he doesn’t have the instincts an omega does. He never learned how. The result is messy and jumbled, and not the smooth, pretty nest I made for us all to appreciate and then fuck in.

Rude.

“Her nesting instincts are kicking into overdrive, which means her heat has peaked. She’s getting ready to breed,” Sam says.

“Breed? I didn’t… I mean, we haven’t…” Tom stops playing with me, his hand heavy on my ass while he freezes.

“No! She’s on birth control,” Sam says. “But we’ve found through trial and error what combination to give the omegas. If you don’t satisfy the breeding urge, they’re more likely to go into distress. Dr. Sharma can explain it a lot better than I can. Basically, the combination of pills I gave her today are a different formula and they make her body think she’s pregnant.”

“I see. Did you know this?” Tom asks.

Marcus’s purring stutters, then stops. The silence is deafening. “No.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Tom says, his words clipped.

The beta packmate’s mad.

They don’t want me.

They don’t want my babies.

Tears blur my vision as I whine and try to struggle off the alpha under me. He holds me tighter, which only makes me struggle harder. I scratch his chest and get ready to bite him if I have to.

They don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want us they don’t want my babies my babies.

“Oww! Jesus Christ. Sweetheart, stop! I don’t want to hurt you.” His arms cage me. I growl deeper. Scratch harder.

“What the bloody hell?” The nest breaks completely as Tom scrambles upright.

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