I could see it warring inside her—the desire to snark, to misbehave, with the desire to obey.
“Thank you, alpha,” she finally responded.
I smiled, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. “Good girl.”
Olive disappearedinto her nest with all her new supplies the moment we got home. Apparently, we weren’t allowed in until she felt it was complete, so the three of us were sitting side by side on the sectional, completely at a loss for what to do without our omega.
“We should take her out to a nice dinner,” Easton said, glancing back down the hallway for the millionth time.
Irritation flashed through me. “I still haven’t gotten a solo date with her.”
“Pretty sure that’s your fault,” Easton grumbled.
“Okay, settle down,” Lars said. “Finn can have his date with Olive first, but I agree, we need to take her out together. Make her feel special and show her we’re serious about being a pack. About bonding her.”
He cocked his eyebrow at us as if waiting to see if we would put up some sort of argument, but he got none from us. My heart beat faster at the thought of bonding her. The fear of losing her, of suffering through grief again, was still there, but it wasn’t enough to tamp down my overwhelming desire to make her fully mine.Ours.
“I would have bitten her the first day I saw her,” Easton grumbled.
I nudged him in the ribs. “What’s got you so cranky?”
“I just don’t understand what’s taking her so long.”
I grabbed my packmate’s hand and squeezed it. Easton struggled with separation in general, but I knew his alpha was riding him hard to be with our omega, just like mine was.
The sound of a door opening had the three of us turning around. Olive skipped out to us, looking bright and happy.
“Did you finish, baby?” Easton asked, his shoulders instantly relaxing.
“Almost,” she said. “I need help hanging the canopy, but other than that, it’s all set.”
“Should we go see?” Lars asked, moving to get off the couch.
“Hold on,” I said, cocking an eyebrow. “Our omega is owed a punishment.” I’d filled the guys in on my promise to Olive in the store. They might not be as into impact play as I was, but they had certainly been on board to watch. “I think we should get it taken careof here. We don’t want your first memory of your new nest to be a punishment.”
Olive crossed her arms and huffed. “Yes, very considerate.” She spat out the words, but we all knew it was for show. Olive’s scent was filling the room, thick with arousal, and her cheeks were flushed. If she didn’t want this, she could stop it in an instant, but my little omega liked the idea of punishment.
I leaned back on the couch, spreading my legs wide. “Strip, omega.” I injected my words with the slightest bark, just enough to send that shiver down her spine but not enough to actually force her to act.
Her eyes flicked to Lars and Easton. Easton looked ready to leap out of his seat and tackle Olive, but he was letting me have this moment, and I was grateful.
Slowly, ever so fucking slowly, Olive started peeling off her clothes. First her skirt, leaving her in just those fucking fishnet tights. Then her sweater. The tank top underneath the sweater.
A growl rumbled through my chest. I needed to see all of hernow,but she was taking her time, tormenting me. She smirked, not dropping eye contact as she peeled off her panties and bra. My defiant girl.
She didn’t cover herself, just stood before us, fierce and completely unashamed.
My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it, but I maintained my stern exterior as I crooked my finger. A tiny huff escaped her, but she walked towards me until she was standing between my spread legs.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I murmured, running my hands up her sides. Squeezing. Kneading. I traced the blush on her cheeks. “Now, lay down over my lap. If you take your spanking like a good girl, I might even let you come. If not…” I let the threat of leaving her needy and wanting hang in the air. She let out an adorable squeak and quickly lay on my lap.
I ran my hand down her back, stroking her until the tension left her body. “That’s it, darling. What do you say if it’s too much?”
“Red,” she responded.
“Good girl.”
She tensed again when I cupped her butt cheeks, squeezing them hard enough to make her whine. She no longer had the deodorant on, allowing me to monitor her by her scent. There was a hint of anxiety mixed in with her sweetness, but no acidic fear. Good. It was fine for her to be a bit on edge—it could even heighten the sensation—but I never wanted her to be afraid of me.
