I don’t remember much from the past three days other than intense pleasure, and even that feels more like a fading dream.
Looking around the room, I spot a stack of water bottles and a few bags of chips and pretzels. Not exactly a nutritious meal, but I suppose it’s better than nothing.
What’s confusing me is that I’m this coherent after only three days. I suppose that’s the difference between alphas who simply want to fulfill a fantasy and alphas who actually care about my comfort.
Being careful not to jostle Des who’s snuggled up against Mason or wake Alex who has his arm over Des’s waist on his other side, I crawl to the door and snag a water bottle.
After cracking the top, I down half of its contents in one long pull. I’m breathing heavily by the time I pull it from my lips.
I’m tempted to guzzle down at least three of them, but know I’ll end up sick if I drink too much too quickly. Lesson learned years ago.
Damn, I’m sticky. And I’m sure I don’t smell great, either.
Might as well take a quick shower while the alphas are asleep, and my body is cooperating. Who knows when the next spike will hit, and my body and brain will no longer be on the same page?
I’ve always wondered during my lucid moments if there are other lucid moments that I simply don’t remember. I’m always so lost during the fog of my hindbrain but are there other times like this when I actually remember to do something as mundane as drink water and wash off the sweat, cum, and slick?
After relieving my bladder, I turn the handle and let the water pound the tile as the water heats up. Don’t know what kind of water heater rich people use, but I swear it always takes longer for the water to get hot at my apartment.
Once the steam is billowing from the glass enclosure, I step in and close the door behind me. Eventually, I’ll fill the tub, pour in some Epsom salt and essential oils, and let my body soak while it recovers from overuse.
For now, I need to clean off as quickly as possible and get back to the nest. I really don’t want to risk losing control alone.
As I lather up, I try to recall as much as possible. It’s not much. I mean, I can’tremembermuch.
What I can remember was intense. For never having been with an omega, those alphas sure as hell know how to please one.
The fact I’m able to stand here on my own and shower is testament to how well they took care of me.
As the loofah runs down my chest, I can’t help but plant a hand to my lower abdomen. I know it’s a slim chance, but there could be a little human growing in there right now.
Unlike female omegas, I don’t have a soft, rounded body. I grew up skinny. Scrawny. Which was why I got into lifting to add a little more definition to my body since I couldn’t seem to add any softness or any form of curves.
If all goes according to plan, I’ll eventually get some roundness to my body, though it won’t be the softness of a woman.
The alphas don’t seem to care about that considering the three of them are in a committed relationship with no woman involved.
Could I ever commit like that? It’s hard to picture myself devoting myself fully to someone for twelve years. Not just committing myself, but never sleeping with another person other than my alpha or beta.
Or hell, another omega. Though that seems farfetched with how possessive I grow over my nest.
What’s the point of dwelling on the what ifs when my life is pretty much planned out for at least the next year. Maybe more if we don’t succeed over the next few cycles.
I can only assume they won’t want to continue hemorrhaging money if I end up being infertile or our reproductive systems are incompatible.
Ew. Did I seriously just deduce the past three days – and the future with this pack – to nothing more than my uterus and their sperm?
With a shake of my head, I rinse off and end the spray. I need to get something in my stomach and drink some more water before the next spike hits.
Who brought the food and water? Did one of the alphas leave the nest? Was I awake or asleep?
A whimper builds in my chest.Whywouldtheyleaveme?
“Oh, get a grip,” I whisper to myself as I rub the towel against my skin a little too roughly. Why the hell am I getting all needy and whiny when I have no idea whether anyone left or not?
And seriously, why would it matter? They’re not mine, for fuck’s sake. This is a business agreement with some affection and gifts thrown in to sweeten the pot.
Something in my chest tightens at that thought. I want them. Is that wrong of me to even think? The four of us went into this fully aware it’s temporary.
