Page 111 of Juliet & Her Romeos

“Really?” Benedict’s look becomes cunning. “Tell our Chief Alpha that. I asked him once if I could always be naked. I don’t like the feel of wearing clothes. Especially not socks, horrible things. If you ask Ambrose, he may say yes. But he’s given me ninety-one rules for outside the house, and fifty-two different ones for inside the house. Normally, I like rules. But I don’t like that none of them allow me to be naked all the time. Perhaps, we can get one added that Omegas shouldn’t wear clothes.”

“Ninety-one rules?” I cross my arms, fuming. “Amby better not think that I’m going to follow his rules.”

“They’remyrules.” Benedict says, fiercely protective. “Ambrose didn’t have any to start with, but I needed them.”

I nod.

As long as they’re to help and not control Benedict, then I won’t kick Ambrose’s ass.

Benedict’s expression becomes more vulnerable. “Don’t you want to join my snuggle pile?”

My expression softens.

Snuggle pile.

No one’s invited me into one before. Omegas should ideally be raised together, or at least, have Omega friends. That way they can learn about their instincts, comfort each other, and make sure that they’re not touch starved though Omega snuggle piles.

I don’t hesitate.

I kneel down and crawl across the crinkling pages to lie next to Benedict in his paper nest. It’s a strange, dry sensation.

Benedict begins to purr, deep and rumbling.

He holds out his arms awkwardly to me.

I realize that this is the first time he’s tried to hold another Omega in his nest. But then, it’s my first time being held.

I enthusiastically launch myself into his arms, purring and nuzzling at his neck.

He’s knocked onto his back.

Dazed, he lies underneath me, as I’m wrapped in his intoxicating scent of honey.

“Isn’t this sacrilege?” I gesture at the grand library and then at the pile of destroyed books. “I mean, to be somewhere like this, then to steal the insides of books for a nest? Couldn’t you be burned at the stake by librarians?”

Benedict looks horrified. “They don’t burn Omegas anymore. The last Omega burning was in 1727. And I don’t steal. Ambrose created this nest for me. He knows that it’s what I’ve been used to since I was a child. I feel all wrong and like there’s this pressure in my head, if I don’t spend some time alone in this nest. Ambrose may be obsessed with sports and his violin, more than he is reading…unless it’s those smut books that he sometimes reads to me before he ruts me…”

My mouth hangs open. Then I smirk.

Ambrose is going to hate that his Omega is telling me his secrets.

This is awesome.

Benedict’s plush mouth curls into a smile. “You feel good against my skin. Better than my nest. I dreamed that you would. This is your nest now too.”

My purr deepens in response, and I lick down Benedict’s sweet tasting scent gland.

I can’t get enough.

But then, I peek up at him, as he tentatively wraps his arms around my shoulders.

His cock has hardened, and I can feel it against my hip.

Then I notice something else that’s peeking out of the nest: the gleaming soft fur and intelligent emerald eyes of a fox stuffie.

“Look,” I point at it, “you told me that you had larger foxes.”

“I’m a bad Omega but I don’t lie,” Benedict replies. I flinch at thebad Omega. He’s anawesomeOmega: talented, beautiful, and sweet. How dare anyone teach him differently? “Vito bought him for me. He’s called Foxy.”

---