Page 75 of Laurels and Liquor

“Then fucking claim it, Alpha,” she rasps, barely able to speak around my fingers squeezing her slender neck.

I snarl a wordless admonishment, not liking her tone one bit. “You’re going to take what I choose to give you, my greedy little omega. If I want to edge you all night, make you cry and beg until you can’t stand it anymore, then that’s what I’ll do. And you’ll thank me for taking the time out of my day to touch you, for deigning to give you anything at all. Isn’t that right?”

She swallows and something shifts in her eyes, and there’s a whisper of caution along my bond with Lucas, a touch I recognize as Rhett’s. I loosen my hold on her throat a touch, and she gulps in a breath, lower lip shaking. Is she shutting down? Did I go too far? I’m about to pull away, to stop this before I really hurt her, but then she speaks, and I’m struck dumb.

“If that’s what you wanted, I would do it happily. I’d beg, cry, kill for you. I’d do anything for you, Alexandra.”

The bald honesty of her shaky words strikes me to my core, and there’s something at the edge of my senses, a caress I don’t recognize, and I swallow a growl of frustration. She’s reaching out to me, trying to tell me something, but it’s muffled by too many intermediaries. Her fingers come up to brush along my cheekbone, her other hand pressing something into my entrance. My toy.

“Please,” she says simply, but her eyes speak volumes.

We work together to slide the toy into her folds, and I feel a pang of longing. I might be able to knot her this way, but I wish I could feel how wet she is, or how she squeezes my length. My eyes never leave hers as I rock into her, our hips meeting over and over. We’re both so close already that it doesn’t take much until we’re both panting, holding on to each other as we race toward the cliff’s edge.

“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Lydia mutters, holding my face with both hands.

I nod, not able to deny her. She pulls me into a kiss, only letting me linger for a moment before she redirects my mouth to her throat. The place everyone left alone, even when they could have marked her over and over. My teeth ache, and I scream as a tsunami of an orgasm crashes down on me, and I press my knot inside of her at the same moment as I bite down.

Light and color explode through me, everything swirling together until I can’t tell up from down. Lydia’s blood tastes like ambrosia, liquid gold filling me with warmth and love and so many other things. And suddenly, I can feel the depth of her trust, her love for me. She’s giving herself to me completely, letting me into her heart to see every flicker of emotion. The fear of rejection, the anticipation for the future, her excitement, her physical pleasure. When I test that connection, she pushes back against me. Not trying to pull away, but so eager for me that she barrels into my heart, pushing out every fear and insecurity. She loves me so much, loves every flaw and quirk. She loves me for who I am, not what I could do for her.

“I’m here, Alpha,” she whispers in my ear, holding me close.

My eyes burn, and I release my teeth, licking the blood away tenderly. I’m too full, too overcome with emotion to respond. And it only gets worse as I smell lemons and fresh cut grass, Mateo’s smile flashing behind my eyes even though I know he’s still in the other room. Then Rhett, his little brush of dark chocolate-scented reassurance, easier to feel than Mateo’s, but just as strong. And Lucas, my patient beta, who smells of clean sheets and campfires of my childhood, filling me to the brim with his love.

Eventually, I’m able to pull away from Lydia, but I don’t let her go far. The boys return to the nest, and we spend the rest of the night wrapped in each other. I don’t bother to hide my tears, and I’m not the only one shedding them. We linger in our freshly formed connections, testing them and comforting each other without words, until we fall asleep in a pile, the sun rising on the first day of our lives as a bonded pack.

Chapter thirty-eight

Lydia

ThefirstthingI’maware of as I open my eyes is the distinct lack of an itch under my skin. I don’t know what time it is, or even what day it is, but I know I’m not itchy. Instead, I’m cold and profoundly sticky. I shiver, trying to find a blanket to cover up with, but I can’t move. This is due in large part to the two sets of arms wrapped around me, pinning my hands to my chest.

I open my eyes and the room is dim, the overhead light off and the faintest bit of sunlight filtering through the curtains. It could be dawn or dusk, and I can’t turn my head to see my wall clock. Sighing, I let my head flop down, resigned to being stuck here for a while.

My eyes slide closed, and I jump at the tentative little nudge in my chest. I can taste s’mores on the back of my tongue, and I turn my head on instinct, finding Lucas’s blue-gray eyes open and sparkling. He’s not the owner of any of the arms around me, but instead my head is resting on his thigh, and the rest of his limbs are lost in the tangled web of flesh around me.

“Welcome back to reality, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling under his breath.

“How long have we been…”

“Banging each other’s brains out?” Lucas finishes with a laugh. “Six days, give or take a few hours.”

I flush a little, only making him laugh more. He wriggles closer until he can press a kiss to my hairline, and the little pulse of affection in my chest makes me smile like a love-struck fool. I look up, realizing that Rhett and Mateo are the ones stuck to me like Velcro, and I can smell Lex, but I’m surrounded by too much man-chest to see her. Rhett grunts as Lucas elbows him in the head “accidentally,” reeling back enough for me to breathe as he’s pulled back to consciousness.

“Sorry,” Lucas says with a wink in my direction.

“What’s wrong?” Lex mutters sleepily.

“Lydia’s done, and awake,” Lucas answers for me.

“And I really need to pee and take a shower,” I add.

“I’ll join,” Mateo mumbles, and I’m not even sure he’s fully awake.

“I love you, but the idea of any of you touching me right now makes me want to vomit,” I admit, and a chorus of chuckles meets me.

There are a few moments where no one moves, and I can feel the reluctance bouncing around the room. While I admit that it’s nice to be warm and in the arms of two of the people I love, my bladder continues to make a strong objection. But eventually I manage to wriggle free with Lucas’s help, and he shoos them out of my room to take care of their own hygiene.

I spend a few blissful minutes alone, scrubbing away the last few days of grime and sweat, and Lord knows what else, until my skin is raw. I try to savor it, but the nagging pull in my chest makes me rush. The edge of panic in my chest, like something’s missing, catches me off guard, but my pack is there, dulling the edges before it can ever reach truly concerning levels. I’m surprised to find the top few layers of my bedding gone, but the bulk of my nesting materials are still in place. The air still smells like sex, but there’s a heavy layer of my mates’ scents on every inch of the space.

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