Page 126 of Broken Bonds

“You think? I kind of thought he looks a bit like Ollie. Dawson reminds me of Rule, and Birdie is still undermined. I can’t decide if she looks like Lake or Van.”

I laugh lightly under my breath as I run my fingers over the top of my little girl’s head. Not that it matters, but I kind of like to think I got a little piece of each of my alphas with the triplets.

It takes a while, but eventually Cara comes back over to us with two of the other nurses. One has a camera and gets Link and me to stand by the wall of fame to snap a couple of pictures of us and the triplets. With their pictures taken, they help us get the babies strapped in their car seats and ready to go. Cara gives me all of their paperwork as well as some info on things to watch out for with them, and then all three nurses walk with us to the hospital entrance. Nurses and doctor’s line the hallway that leads towards the NICU, clapping and cheering as we pass, and I cannot, for the life of me, wipe the grin off my face.

This is a core memory that I hope I never forget.

Outside, Link leaves me and the triplets at the entrance with the nurses while he goes to get my car. The weather has warmed slightly, and today the sun is high in the sky, so I’m not worried about the babies getting cold while we wait on Link to pull around. When he does, Cara and the other two nurses help us get the car seats buckled in the back, and once they’re all snug and safe, Cara hugs me and wishes us luck.

In the car, I buckle my seatbelt and can’t stop from looking in the back, still smiling as I see their car seats all lined up, side by side. When I glance over at Link, he’s smiling happily too as he looks in the rearview mirror occasionally while he drives us home.

Home.

We’re all going home.

* * *

The triplets are fast asleep when we get them inside the nursery, so I swaddle them each up and put them in their cribs before creeping out with the baby monitor and pulling their door until it’s only cracked. I find Link in the kitchen, throwing something together in my crock-pot.

“Whatcha making?” I ask, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“Chicken tortilla soup. I figured it’d be easier and less of a mess to clean up if I threw something in the crock-pot for tonight, with it being the babies’ first night home. Hope that’s okay,” he says, giving me a sheepish look when he turns around after locking the lid on.

I grin and hop up on the counter, taking a sip of my water.

“Sounds yummy.”

“I don’t know how to make much, but crock-pot meals are pretty simple. And I like that there’s less cleanup,” he says, laughing under his breath as he cleans up the counters and throws his trash away.

I can’t stop watching the way the muscles in his arms bunch as he wipes the counters down or the way his shirt stretches over his back when he leans down to clean up something he spilled on the floor.

Why is it so hot watching him cook and clean?

Once again, I’m a perfuming mess on my countertop, and when he catches a whiff, his chest rumbles as he steps up between my legs and cages me in against the cabinets.

“That’s the second time in the span of a few hours you’ve perfumed for me, Omega. Do you know how maddening your scent is? How hard it is to hold myself back from flipping you around and bending you over this counter as I show you just how mad you drive me?”

“So, then why are you holding yourself back?” I ask softly, pressing my hands against his chest.

“Because I’m trying so damn hard to be respectful and treat you like you deserve to be treated.”

“Who said I don’t deserve to be bent over and fucked into oblivion?” I ask, raising a brow at him.

I squeal when he growls and picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to my bedroom. My breath whooshes out of me when he tosses me on the bed and crawls up my body, hovering over me. His blue eyes are an inferno as he stares down at me, auburn hair framing his face.

I reach up and glide my fingers softly across his cheek, making him close his eyes and lean into my touch.

“Don’t stop now, Alpha. I believe your brother’s exact words were for you to fuck me silly,” I tell him, smiling up at him when he gives me a feral grin in return.

“Challenge accepted,” he growls out as he crawls down my body and peels my pants and underwear off, tossing them across the room.

Throwing my thighs over his arms and wasting no time, he shoves his face against my soaking center, swiping his tongue through my lips. I cry out, twisting my comforter in my fists when he sucks my needy clit between his lips, my back arching up off the bed when he inserts a finger inside of me and curls it upwards.

Pleasure rolls through me, and as it does, I realize how much I missed this feeling. This feeling of being worshipped and cared for as pleasure courses through my veins and carries me away.

I’ve been starved for intimacy, and I didn’t even know it.

Link inserts another finger, and the stretch is mildly uncomfortable at first, but not enough for me to tell him to stop when everything feels so good. He thrusts his fingers slowly at first until I moan and beg for more. My thighs squeeze around his head when he rolls my swollen bundle of nerves between his teeth, and my walls clench around his fingers as he works me over, bringing me to the edge quickly.

---