I look at each of them in turn.
Sergio, steady and certain, holding my hands like they're precious.
Carlos, warm against my back, his heart beating rapid and hopeful beneath my shoulder blade.
Nacho, intense and focused, waiting for my answer with barely concealed tension.
Pedro, gruff exterior cracked open, vulnerability showing through the clinical mask.
Four men who've given me everything over the past three days. Who've worshipped my body, held me through the desperate waves, whispered promises against my skin.
Four men who want me forever.
"Yes."
The word falls out before I finish breathing.
"Yes?" Sergio's eyes go wide. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure." Tears prick at my eyes, hot and unexpected. "I've never been more sure of anything. Yes, I'll bond with you. Yes, I'll be your omega. Yes, yes, yes."
Sergio pulls me forward and kisses me.
Sergio moves first.
His hand cups my face with such tenderness I could cry. The kiss is different from the frantic claiming of heat. Softer. Deeper. His tongue sweeps against mine in slow, languid strokes that make my core clench with need I didn't know I still had in me.
This isn't desperation. This is devotion.
I taste love and possession on his lips, feel the claiming in the way his thumb strokes along my jaw. His other hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my head like I'm something precious. Something worth protecting.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. His breath ghosts across my swollen lips, and I'm shaking.
"Forever starts now," he whispers.
Then he kisses me again. Gentle. Thorough. Claiming me in a way that has nothing to do with biology and everything to do with choice.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
I barely have time to catch my breath before Carlos spins me around.
"About damn time." His grin is infectious, bright and joyful against my lips. He kisses me with all the enthusiasm I've come to expect from him—quick pecks that turn into something deeper, sweeter. "Welcome to the family, Jess."
His joy is contagious. I'm smiling so hard I can barely kiss him back, and he laughs against my mouth like he knows exactly what he's doing to me.
When he pulls away, his eyes are bright with unshed tears.
"Love you," he mouths.
I don't get a chance to respond before I feel Nacho's presence behind me.
Big hands cup my face, turning me gently. He presses his forehead to mine, and we stand there for a heartbeat, breathing the same air. His scent wraps around me—leather and rain and something dark and grounding that makes my omega purr with satisfaction.
Then he closes the distance.
The first brush of his lips is feather-light. Testing. Asking permission even though he doesn't need to. I gasp, and he takes advantage, tongue slipping inside to stroke against mine in a way that makes my toes curl against the sheets.
His hands are so large they nearly span my entire jaw, holding me still while he kisses me like he's memorizing every taste, every sound I make. Like he's been waiting his whole life for this moment and he's not going to waste a single second of it.
