His chin lifts, tears falling, cutting tracks through the steam on his cheeks. “Because I don’t deserve it.”
“Bullshit.” I refuse to let him lie.
I crush my mouth against his, my hand locking into the back of his skull as I press him into the sink. Wilson’s hands clench my shoulders, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and his groan against my lips is the sound of a man whose last defense just shattered.
I slide my hands down to his thighs and lift him. His legs snap around my waist, his back hitting the tile as I walk him into the shower. The shower sprays across my arm, warm water misting over us, and Wilson gasps into my mouth when I shift, his cock pressing harder into my stomach.
“You are loved, gorgeous,” I whisper, grinding my hips forward. His head tilts back against the tile, water drenching my clothing. “So fucking loved. Do you hear me?”
“Lorenzo—”
“I love you.” I pull back just enough to see his face. “Maybe it’s too soon to say it. I don’t care. You’re my Beta, Wilson—mine, Oliver’s, and Nicholas’ if you’d let yourself have some fucking happiness.”
He claws at my shirt, pressing his forehead to mine, his breath ragged, his whole body trembling. I hold him there, hips braced against the wall, arms wrapped around him, the weight of my confession between us.
My hand slides between us and I press two fingers inside him where he’s still open from the nest. Wilson arches off the wall, a groan ripping through his teeth, his arms locking around my neck.
“How can you be okay with this?” he rasps, voice raw, each word torn from deep inside. “With Nicholas and me. With him knotting your Omega. With all of it, Lorenzo, how—”
In one thrust, my cock replaces my fingers. Wilson’s body takes me in, and his voice cracks on a moan that fills the bathroom and bounces off the wet tile. I clamp my hands around his thighs, pinning him firmly, and drive up into him hard enough that his back slides against the wall with every stroke.
“Because he’s not my Omega.” Each word punctuates a thrust that presses Wilson higher against the tile. “He’s our Omega. Ours. I can’t meet all of his needs alone, and I don’t have to.” My grip tightens on his thighs. I shift the angle and Wilson criesout, his nails raking the back of my neck. “That’s what a pack is. A group. We share responsibility. We share love. We share everything, Wilson—including you.”
Wilson’s arms squeeze around my neck. His face buries against my throat, his body clenching around me with every stroke, his cock trapped between our stomachs, leaking warm against my skin.
“I’m breaking.” His words come out muffled against my neck, small and raw in a way I’ve never heard. “Lorenzo, I’m breaking apart.”
My hands hold his thighs and my hips drive forward while the shower floods the room with steam that wraps around us. Wilson shivers in my arms, his body folding tighter with each thrust, his breathing melting into sounds that aren’t words anymore.
“Good.” I press my mouth to his ear, dropping my voice into the register that always makes him go pliant, the one that slips past every wall he’s built and speaks directly to the part of him that craves authority wielded with care. “Break for me, gorgeous. Let it all come down. Because weve got everything I need to build you back up if you’ll let us.”
Wilson tightens his grip in my shirt, his breathing kicking up a notch.
“Let us catch you,” I whisper, adjusting my angle until his spine bows away from the tile. “Let us fix you.”
When he comes, the sob breaks against my throat like a wave. Heat pulses between our bodies, spreading across my stomach as he tightens around me with such force that my own release tears through me in the next heartbeat.
Pressing him harder into the wall, I bury myself inside him completely, my face finding the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, arms trembling with the effort of keeping us both standing.
My fingers thread through his damp curls, cradling the back of his head while he gradually loosens his grip on my shirt. The violent sobs that wracked his body begin to subside into shudders, then into trembling, until finally he grows still in my arms.
“Yours,” Wilson whispers, his lips brushing my throat with each syllable. “I’m yours.”
My lips find his temple, pressing against skin still damp from tears and steam. “You always were, gorgeous,” I murmur into his hair. “You just had to stop running long enough to let us prove it.”
21
Oliver
I lean against the cool metal of the bar rail, watching the new DJ spin something filthy. The bassline rattles the bottles in the well every time the beat drops. The dance floor’s packed, the energy at Vice & Virtue tonight feeling like the first deep breath after months of holding it. Lorenzo booked a live show upstairs, a local band that draws a crowd we’ve never tapped before, and the register has been ringing since doors opened at eight.
It’s been two nights since that glorious moment with all four of us and even though my nest is freshly washed, their scents linger. I can’t get enough. The best part, though, is how relaxed Wilson and Nicholas have been since that moment.
Wilson has taken to running the floor just like usual, but there’s something different in his posture tonight. His eyes sweep the room in that familiar rotation, lingering on Nicholas by the east corridor for a beat longer than security requires.When Nicholas catches him looking, Wilson doesn’t flinch. His mouth twitches into that almost-smile. Nicholas grins back and I watch the color climb up the back of Wilson’s neck as he turns back to the bar.
There’s even been a few beats where both of them find me in the crowd, grinning like that night finally cracked something open. It did. Fuck, it definitely did.
I let my gaze continue to roam, finding Lorenzo just beside the bar with that clipboard he always carries, my Beta dressed in a pale yellow suit. I told him to wear the green one but now that I’m staring at him, yellow suits him.
