Hands tug at the hem of the hoodie until warm fingers meet my sides and I shiver before I break the kiss to let them pull the hoodie over my head, leaving me bare to them. Part of me wishes I had makeup to cover up the bruises left behind by the Sergio’s men.
They’re healing now, but they make me feel ugly.
Gentle fingers turn me to the right where Caleb kneels next to Jethro and his brown eyes search mine behind his black frames. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. You’re beautiful, and don’t think anything different.”
He leans forward and captures my lips in a kiss.
Caleb’s kiss is steady and grounded, a sharp contrast to the whirlwind of my own thoughts. When he pulls back, his brown eyes are soft, searching mine. I feel like I’m standing on a ledge, and for the first time in my life, I’m not sure if I’m falling or flying.
“Wait,” I whisper, the word catching in my throat. I look at the four of them, my Alphas and my fellow Omega, all gathered in this space that’s supposed to be a sanctuary. My heart is a frantic bird against my ribs. “I need to tell you guys something. I don’t want to... I don’t want to ruin this, but I have to be honest.”
Jethro shifts, his weight making the mattress dip as he leans in closer. The smell of smoky marshmallow is so thick now, but in a way that makes me want to sink into it. “You can’t ruin this, Sandra. Talk to us.”
I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I bunch the fabric of the blankets between my fingers. “I don’t know how to do this. Any of it. Before Nero and Emilio... I was a virgin. I’ve spent my whole life helping other Omegas escape their Alphas, or helping them find safety. I was so focused on being a counselor and avoiding my father’s mess that I never... I never had time for a personal life. And the experience I did have with those men... it wasn’t sex. It was an assault.”
The room goes dead silent for a beat. I brace myself for the awkwardness, for the shift in the air that usually happens when someone mentions trauma. But instead, a low, collective rumble starts. It’s the Alphas, their inner instincts responding to my vulnerability.
Oli is the first to move. He crawls across the nest, his movement fluid and graceful, until he’s sitting right in front of me. He takes my hands in his, his grip warm and solid. “Sandra, hey. Look at me.”
I meet his green eyes. They’re wet, but there’s no pity; there’s just a soul-deep understanding.
“That’s okay,” he says, his voice a soothing balm. “Actually, it’s more than okay. We don’t expect you to be an expert. We don’t even want you to be. We just want you. We’ll go as slow as you need. No one is going to push you, and if you want to stop at any point, we stop. Period.”
Jethro nods, his expression solemn. “He’s right. We’re here to bond, Sandra. To make you part of this pack. That’s about trust, not performance.”
The tightness in my chest eases just a fraction. I look at Jethro, then at Oli. “I want to learn. I want to know what it’s like to feel... good. With people who actually care.”
Oli gives me a small, mischievous grin that lightens the mood. “Well, I’m a pretty good teacher. And Jethro here is a very patient student.”
He glances at Jethro, a silent question passing between them. Jethro’s eyes darken, but he offers a slow, encouraging nod. He shifts on the bed, sitting back against the headboard and opening his legs. I can see the outline of him through his jeans, and my stomach flips, but this time it’s with a hum of anticipation.
“Come here.” Oli tugs gently on my hand.
I move with him, my knees sinking into the soft layers of the nest. Oli guides me until I’m kneeling between Jethro’s legs. Jethro reaches out, his large hands resting on my waist, his thumbs tracing the line of my hips. He doesn’t pull me in; he just stays there, a steadying presence.
Oli kneels right beside me, his scent—sage and honeysuckle—mixing with Jethro’s smoke. “It’s okay to be nervous,” Oli says softly. “We’ll do it together. Watch me.”
He reaches for Jethro’s belt, his fingers moving with practiced ease. When he frees Jethro, I catch my breath. He’s beautiful, thick and heavy, the skin a deep bronze. I feel a flush creep up my neck that has nothing to do with the heater.
Oli takes my hand and places it over his as he wraps his fingers around Jethro. The contact is electric. Jethro lets out a low, rough groan that vibrates through the mattress and into my knees.
“See?” Oli murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “He likes it. Just a firm grip. Don’t be afraid to touch him.”
He guides my hand in a slow, rhythmic motion. I watch, mesmerized, as Jethro’s eyes drift shut, his head falling backagainst the headboard. His scent spikes, the marshmallow turning sweet and heavy, a sign of his arousal.
“Now you,” Oli pulls his hand away but staying close.
I take a shaky breath and mimic the motion. The skin is soft, but the heat underneath is incredible. I find a rhythm, my eyes darting up to Jethro’s face. His jaw is clenched, the salt-and-pepper scruff on his chin highlighting the tension there.
“You’re doing great, Sandra,” Jethro rumbles, his voice like gravel.
Oli leans in, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Want to try something else? It’s even better for him if you use your mouth. I’ll show you.”
He leans forward, his golden hair falling over his face as he takes Jethro into his mouth. I watch, my heart hammering, as he shows me how to use his tongue, how to swirl around the tip. Jethro’s hands tighten on my waist, his knuckles turning white.
When Oli pulls back, his lips are wet and flushed. He looks at me, a silent invitation in his eyes. “Your turn. Just follow your instincts. If it feels right to you, it’ll feel right to him.”
I hesitate for only a second before I lean in. The scent of him is overwhelming this close, pure Alpha, but wrapped in that comforting marshmallow sweetness. I let my lips brush against him first, tasting the salt of his skin. Then, I take him in, just a little bit at a time, like Oli showed me.
