Page 107 of Pack Choice
“If we do this,” he says slowly, “then we have to be prepared to share.”
“I’ll happily watch you fuck her.” River grins and the omega whimpers, the idea obviously turning her on.
“And,” Colt continues, ignoring his friend, “we have to watch out for one another. For her safety. If one of us–”
“It won’t be a problem,” River tells him. He turns to me. “We’ve done this before. Have you?”
I hesitate. Then I nod. Once, once way back.
River tips back his head and cackles. “Some lone wolves we turned out to be.”
“Things can change,” Colt mutters.
“No, Colt, not these things. Lone wolves don’t share. They never share. We’re a bunch of fools. Fooling ourselves. Fooling each other. Because, you know what? Sharing this little omega is all I’ve been able to think about.”
26
Molly
I don’t knowhow it happens. My force of will? The scent of my slick? Magic?
But one moment the three alphas are arguing among themselves as to what to do, resisting my attempts to get them to knot me. Then the next thing I know, all three are on me, stripping me of my skirt and my underwear, and carrying me through River’s ridiculously large and over-the-top apartment to a nest snuggled at the back.
It’s dark and cool, little lights twinkling all over the darkened ceiling and a huge bed dominating the room, strewn with cushions and blankets.
Ford lays me out on the mattress and I scuttle backwards, and roll onto my stomach, lifting my hips off the bed and wriggling my ass in the air.
It’s not the most sophisticated of seduction techniques, but, in my experience, it’s the most effective. Especially when I’m in heat and gushing slick down my thighs. And especially when the three alphas in the room are toppling on the edge of rut. I can smell it in their scents. Strong, virile, fertile.
A throaty whimper escapes my throat.
I want to be fucked so badly. The ache in my pussy and the pain in my gut is unbearable. I want them to change all this pain into mind-blowing pleasure. I want to be rutted hard and knotted firmly. I want them to pump me full of their come.
But despite my best seduction attempts, they’re hesitating again. I peer over my shoulder at the alphas. Annoyingly, all three are still fully clothed.
“Fuck me,” I purr.
River grins at me with that crooked smile, Colt runs his hand over his face and the muscle in Ford’s pec jumps. But then they glance at each other.
No one moves.
I flip over onto my back and roll up to sit with a huff of frustration.
“What are you waiting for?” I say. Colt swallows and all of a sudden I’m not so sure. I wrap my arms around my body and stroke my hands up my arms. What am I doing? Forcing the three of them to help me. When they don’t want to. Because … because I am the omega with the funky scent. The omega who talks too much. The omega with the notorious family. Eventually, they always decide I’m not the one for them.
My eyes burn. I won’t cry. I won’t. But my body is flooded with hormones and tears come cascading despite my best efforts.
“Sweetheart,” Colt says, climbing onto the bed. “Don’t, don’t do that.”
“You don’t want me. You don’t want this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be forcing you.”
He takes me in his arms.
“How many times do we have to tell you how much we want you?”
“I’m an omega,” I sniffle, “you can never say it enough.”
Colt chuckles. “I want you, omega.” He kisses the crown of my head. “I want you.” He kisses one wet cheek. “I want you.” He kisses my mouth. “I want you.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want you.” He kisses my pebbled nipple, growling.
