We moved through the foyer and down the few steps into the living room. I glanced at the sectional. We could just go there. It was soft, comfortable. That was just my eagerness talking though. I knew we needed to go to the pack suite, where I’d been sleeping solo for so manyweeks. It was time for us all to be welcome there, for us all to truly share that too-large bed that dwarfed my petite body each night. When I’d started my heat, they’d rested with me there. That was comfort and companionship.
Tonight was going to be something else.
Something that would take our independent selves and merge them into something singularly everlasting.
I felt myself getting wetter as we entered the bedroom hallway, lower regions tingling as my imagination began to run wild. My slick was a waterfall now, dripping down my legs. Maybe I should feel embarrassed, but all I felt wassafe.
Mac let go of my hand, and at first a pang shot through my heart, but then I realized he was beginning to undress. My boot hit something soft, catching it as I walked. Glancing down, I saw Ryder’s bomber jacket discarded on the hardwoods. Dixon’s hands left my body too, but I didn’t worry now. I could hear sounds of clothing dropping to the floor. Should I start undressing? No, I wasn’t coordinated enough to walk and strip. Mac was down to his briefs by the time he pushed into the pack suite. Ryder and Tray were nowhere to be seen, but the proof they’d come this way was here—torn jeans, faded shirts, and a fringed neon jacket dotting the carpet. I walked slowly now, heart racing. Dixon moved around me, shooting me a hungry gaze that sent fresh waves of desire through me. I was practically swimming in my own slick by the time I entered the bathroom, the last one to do so. Inside the generous space, I found all four of my men nude. Ryder and Tray stepped out of the shower at the sight of me, their bodies already damp and glistening. Mac and Dixon were leaning on the sink; their eyes were latched on my still-clothed form.
The bathroom was already steaming up, the shower going full blast and sending heated mist into the air. The mirror was hazy, and the air was thick with their combined Alpha scents—smoky, rich, and distinctly male. I closed my eyes, inhaling. This was the smell of home. I truly was home again. No one would ever take this feeling away from me again—not by fate, or force, or some farcical rule of law.
Both Mac and Dixon closed the gap to me, gazes dark with unbridledneed. Mac leaned down, tilting forward so his cheek brushed against mine.
"Are you okay, love?" Mac’s voice whispered in my ear; his breath fluttered warmly against my skin.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My heart was slamming against my rib cage with crazy force. I wondered if anyone else could hear its wild pounding. Mac shifted, putting a little space between us. Dixon took his place.
"She's more than okay. Can’t you smell her?” Dixon growled, moving behind me; he lifted my hair, and I felt his nose trailing along my neck. "Jesus, Tessa. You’re fucking drenched and ready.” A fresh wave of arousal coursed through me. The fact that they could sense my emotions and feel my desire for them…was intoxicating.Knowing that soon they’d also fill my body to bursting with their seed made me shudder. My trembling made Dixon growl again. I turned a little, catching sight of his stormy, pale eyes. Then the sound of movement made me turn back again to face the shower.
Ryder approached me with almost a predatory slowness, keen eyes assessing if his prey was going to bolt. When he stood directly in front of me, he pinched my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my face up so I couldn’t shyly avert my gaze.
“Are you sure, Tessa?” He spoke in a low, throaty voice. “Absolutely sure? If we start this, I’m not sure any of us will be able to reverse course.”
No one else spoke. The universe seemedto hold its breath.
"We need to hear you say it.” Dixon wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his nakedness. God, my own clothing felt so restrictive, too tight against my skin. I wanted to snap my fingers and make it disappear so my bare body could feel every inch of Dixon’s.
“I’m sure,” I whispered, but I realized I sounded hesitant. So, I spoke again, trying to sound confident. “I’m sure. I’m not going to change my mind. I want you. I want you all.”
My eyes first locked with Tray’s after saying it. He’d hung back by the shower, and I wanted him to know he was included. So sweet, innocent, charming. Full of life. My effervescent Alpha.
I turned within the circle of Dixon’s embrace. As I did, I made sure to look fully at Mac, offering him a warm smile that I hoped said how dearly I loved him. When I was facing Dixon, I lifted my hands, pressing my palms against his pecs. God, he had mountainous muscles. Freaking superman definition. He gave me his signature cocky smile; the same one he’d used in the kitchen when my Omega scent had touched his Alpha in such a way that he’d retreated to pleasure himself.
Dixon covered my right hand with his left and began gently, yet insistently, pushing it lower. I felt every ridge of his abs. My fingers bumped over the V ridge above his groin before hitting his erect manhood. His hand fell away, and I curled around his dick. So thick. The tips of my fingers were inches away from brushing the tip of my thumb. I stroked him from base to tip, wondering if he’d be the kind of knot I’d barely feel, or the kind that would push the boundaries of my insides.
“You’re wearing too much.” Dixon suddenly dropped to his knees, and I whimpered when his cock was pulled from my hand. He looked up at me, thick lashes over eyes that now appeared pale blue with silver glitter. “Don’t worry,” he smirked, “you’re about to have more than you can handle.”
He pulled my leg up, placing my booted foot against his bare chest. He unlaced it.And, God help me, how was it the sexiest thing I’d ever seen?Dixon worked the boot off with agonizing deliberation, his fingers occasionally grazing my upper, exposed calf. When the first boot clattered to the floor and he’d peeled away the thin, high sock beneath, he switched to the other foot, repeating the process with the same torturous slowness. Part of me wanted to yell at him to hurry, but he’d waited so long for his Omega. Then waited for me to be ready. How hard had it been for all of them to have me in the same house and not be able to claim me?
When the second boot clattered to the tile, Dixon lifted my leg higher so he could gently kiss it. With the same methodical slowness, he worked his way from my ankle to my knee. I shifted a little on one foot, trying to keep my balance, but I was struggling. Suddenly, I felt someone stepbehind me. Tray, his bubblegum carnival scent so damn joyous, gripped my hips with strong hands to steady me.
"Don't want you falling,” his musical, tenor voice murmured against my ear. Dixon finally lowered my leg. When my second foot landed solidly on the floor, Dixon stood, moving away to let Mac replace him. Tray stayed behind me, his face pressed into the crook of my neck, my hair cascading over his head.
Mac undid the corset’s front, unlacing the bottom up zigzag. When I was free, he pulled it from around my body and discarded it to the ground; the blouse I’d worn beneath it fell loose around me. Tray slid his hands beneath the shirt, his hot palms skimming across my ribcage before they began to lift. My nipples hardened as he grazed against them.
“Arms up, gorgeous,” he commanded. He didn’t need to; I’d already started lifting my arms to allow him to pull the shirt away.
The hot, humid air of the bathroom hit my skin. I was overheated, the foggy air around us thick. My pulse quickened as Ryder approached again. He’d been the one to ask if I was truly ready. He should be the one to remove my last article of clothing, the last barrier between me and my Alphas. I flicked a glance down at his dick. Long, straight, not as thick as Dixon’s. Manicured, balls smooth and desperate to be licked.
“Eyes up here, Tessa.” He pretended to snap his fingers and pointed up to draw my attention to his face instead of the promise his lower body held.
Tray backed away and Ryder reached around me, unzipping the back of my skirt. It fell away easily, revealing to them I’d gone commando to the concert.
“You little minx,” Tray whistled appreciatively; his eyes widened, pupils expanding, nearly swallowing the rich brown of his irises.
“You’re lucky we didn’t know in the damn tour bus,” Dixon breathed out, lust overwhelming him.
"Fuck," Ryder groaned, now still as a statue, unable to look away from me. “Look at you. Just fucking look at you.”
