The associate returns with three shopping carts, and I take the handles of one, nodding to Jake and Beau to take the others.
Time to spoil our Omega.
THIRTY-SEVEN
beau
I watchher trying to put back the third blanket she’s picked up in the last ten minutes.
“Willa,” I say, low and even. A warning.
She freezes, the cream-colored throw still in her hands. “It’s just… I already have two blankets in the cart. I don’t need?—”
“Put it in the cart.”
“But—”
“Cart. Now.”
Her Omega responds before her mind catches up—she places the blanket in the cart, her movements automatic. Then she blinks, seeming to realize what she just did, and her scent spikes, vanilla thickening until I can taste it on my tongue.
“Beau,” she starts, that stubborn tilt to her chin appearing, “I’m serious. This is too much. You’ve already spent?—”
I step into her space, backing her up against the display of pillows. Not touching, not yet, just letting my size remind her exactly what I am. What she is.
“Let me explain something to you, love.” My voice drops into that register that makes Omegas shiver. Makes them listen. “You’re our Omega. That means we get to take care of you. Spoilyou. Give you everything you want and everything you didn’t even know you needed.”
“I know, but?—”
“I’m not finished.” The words come out sharp enough that her mouth snaps shut. “You’ve spent a lifetime taking care of yourself. A lifetime of being strong and independent and not asking for anything from anyone. A lifetime without the care your Omega needed, deserved. And I’m proud of you for that. But it ends now.”
Her breathing picks up. Her pupils are dilating, and the scent pouring off her is pure arousal mixed with submission.
“We want to do this,” I continue, my hand coming up to cup her jaw. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and she sucks in a breath. “My Alpha wants to see you drowning in comfort. Wants to know you’re safe and warm and taken care of. So when you try to put things back, when you tell us it’s too much, you’re denying us what we need.”
“I… I didn’t think of it that way.”
“I’m aware.” I lean down, my nose brushing her temple, scenting her. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to stop arguing. You’re going to pick out everything you want. And you’re going to let us give it to you.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Good girl.”
The praise makes her scent explode around me—so sweet and thick I see Charlie and Jake both stop what they’re doing across the aisle, their heads turning toward us, catching her scent.
Her knees actually buckle slightly, and I wrap an arm around her waist to steady her.
“Easy,” I murmur against her ear. “I’ve got you.”
“That’s not fair,” she breathes. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to function.”
“Why not?” I pull back to look at her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes hazy, her lips parted. “You like it when I praise you. When I tell you you’re being good for me.”
She nods, unable to form words.
“Then I’m going to keep doing it.” I press a claiming kiss to her forehead. “Because good girls get rewarded. And you’re going to be such a good girl for us today, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The word comes out as a whimper.
