“You wanted me to bark at you.” My voice is barely a wisp of sound, my throat tender from all the crying out I’ve done and exhaustion.
He hums and squeezes me tighter against his chest. “I did.”
An unpleasant sensation settles in my stomach, and everyone in the pack must feel it because a moment later five sets of hands are stroking over me, petting me.
“What’s wrong,cor mea?” Forsythe asks, lacing his fingers into my hair to tug my head up gently. I meet his eyes and force the words out. They already know something is wrong, it won’t help to try to deny it.
“Why did you need me to command you to bond with me, Sythe? Is it… was that the only way you could bring yourself to do it? For me to force it?”
“No, no,cor mea. Of course not.” He’s quick to reassure me. “I wanted the choice to be yours. To put the power in your hands, just like before when I knelt for you in the kitchen.”
“You can feel him, yeah?” Thayer asks, kneading the muscles in my shoulders. “You can feel how bloody happy he is to have you bonded to him, to us.”
I can feel that, but I’ve had months of Forsythe not choosing me. And it’s hard to just… overcome that.
“I can promise you, we were going to end up bonded tonight no matter what, Florence,” He tells me cupping my cheek to keep my gaze on him. “I was a few thrusts away from giving you my knot anyway. I was absolutely feral with the need for it. I just thought you might appreciate being in control of the timing.”
His certainty settles in my chest, in my bones. And he must feel the shift in me because he grins. “Also, I like the idea of youbeing needy and frantic enough to forget yourself and bark at me. It's a bloody kink I didn’t know I had until you.”
“You like me barking at you?”
“We probably all would, Pix.” Court leans over and smacks a kiss on my shoulder. “Afterall we live to serve you.”
I give a slow shake of my head. “You really shouldn’t have told me that. I’m going to turn into a dictator. Barking at you for the most ridiculous things. ‘Bring me new socks.’ ‘More ice.’ ‘That painting is off center. Fix it.’”
Grieves chuckles. “Then I look forward to the new omega regime.”
“We look forward to it, sunshine,” Piers corrects. “Besides we know you would never abuse that power.”
“Excellent. My feminine wiles are working and you don’t suspect a thing.” I give my version of an evil laugh, though it's more sleepy than evil.
“Get some rest, you adorable evil genius,” Court says, fondly.
My eyes are already drifting closed.
Episode 34: Love in the Age of Instagram
Florence
“Tip your chin back, just a bit,cor mea.” Forsythe’s gentle command drags me out of the sated bliss I’m floating in, my eyes fluttering open, even as I adjust my body to do as he said. “Perfect. Now, give me those sweet lips of yours.”
I hum and do that too, tilting my head toward him. Why wouldn’t I?
Lips brush over my shoulder. “Court, you’re blocking them, shift down just a bit.”
“Blocking what?” I ask sleepily.
“Your mating marks, bubbles.”
“Mmm,” I stretch, my toes curling at the memory that I am mated, bonded. That I can feel them in my chest, just as content and sated as I am. God, I love that. Love them.
“Love the feeling of you in my chest, too,” Thayer murmurs, from somewhere on my left. His fingers brush over my cheek, making me smile and hum again.
“Eyes open, love,” Forsythe murmurs. “Keep the smile.”
I try to, but it flickers slightly when I find he’s got his phone in his hand with the screen on the camera app. Before I can protest he hits the button over and over, making sure we’re all in the frame.
Forsythe smooths his hand down the back of my head. “What do you think, omega?”
