Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

H arper

I yelp, flinging my heels in the air in the process. They come crashing down, the stiletto heel spiking my foot, and then I’m hopping around clutching my injured toe.

“Harper!” Owen says, looking as shocked to see me. “We didn’t know …” His eyes flick to my foot. “Are you okay?”

“No!” I groan, squeezing my injured toe with my eyes shut. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Let me see,” he says, reaching for my elbow. I hop away and shake my head. “Harper,” he warns.

I shake my head a second time. “I don’t want to look,” I tell him. “It’s probably a bloody mess.”

“Harper, let me see,” he barks and immediately I’m thrusting my bare foot in his direction, turning my head so I don’t have to see the bloody, gnarled mess my toe has now most probably become. If there is a toe still remaining at all.

“Harper,” he says gently, “it’s fine. Just a bruise.”

I peek open an eye. “Really? It hurts like hell. I guess I’m super sensitive today.”

“Really?”

“Because it feels like it’s hanging off my foot.”

“Feet always hurt more than they should – especially toes.”

I nod, biting down on my lip and glancing my toe’s way. He’s right, no severed toe, no bone visible, not even any blood.

I sigh with relief and lower my foot gingerly back to the floor. Then I’m staring at the three Pack Stanton alphas and they’re staring right back at me, all their noses twitching.

Twitching violently.

I take a sniff myself – my sinuses flooded with their scents – so masculine, so delicious, so hot. My stomach rumbles.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” I stutter, as my hands fall to my cramping stomach. I’m more hungry than I thought.

“Are you going out?” Wyatt says at the exact same time I speak, his brows scrunched together in a frown.

“Yes, I have a date,” I tell him.

“We’ve come to drop some medication off for Dax’s dad,” he says, again at the same time.

“You’re going on a date?” Daxton says, stepping forward, that fierce scowl of his now hovering on his face. The one that should infuriate me, but makes my blood run hot instead.

“Yes, remember?” I say, although it’s a challenge to remember anything right now with all the heightened scents buzzing in the air. I smooth my hands down the skirt of my dress. A movement which seems to capture all their attention. “With a pack.”

“And you’re going dressed in that?” he says, eyes sliding down my body, eating up every part of me and making my skin flame hot.

“Uh huh.”

“In that dress?” he growls, stalking towards me. Like a tiger. Like he’s going to pounce. My heart races in my chest.

“I already told you, yes, this dress.” I pace backwards.

“ That dress?” He comes closer still. I step back until he has me backed up against the wall.

“What’s wrong with this?” I ask, my head tipping backwards to meet his gaze as he leans in closer. He wasn’t actually serious about me wearing sweat-pants, was he?

“It’s a fuck-me dress,” he says right by my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “A fuck me dress.”

“You’re such a sexist pig,” I say. “Just because I wear a short dress does not mean–”

“Doesn’t matter what you mean by it, any man who sees you in this, will want to fuck you,” he growls. “Because you look seriously fuckable in it.” He pauses and I hear him wet his lips. Then he whispers, sending air whistling down my ear: “Omega.”

That name sends a shiver racing down my spine. So fierce my knees buckle.

He hasn’t called me that for a long time. A long, long time. Not since …

I peer into his eyes – so much time has passed, so many things have changed, but when he looks at me like that, with fire in his eyes, it’s the same look from ten years ago.

The same damn look.

“Alpha,” I whisper, holding his burning gaze in one of my own.

He leans right into me, his fist resting against the wall above my head, his hard body pressed against mine.

“And it’s not just the way you look, Omega. It’s the way you smell. The way you taste. Everything about you.”

“You can’t talk to me like this,” I plead, slick already seeping into my panties. His voice has always turned me on. His voice, his scent, everything about him . “And then just–”

He sinks to his knees and takes each of my thighs in his hands.

“Daxton,” Wyatt says, from behind him.

“She’s going into heat,” he says.

I jolt. Am I? That can’t be right. I’m not due for weeks.

Daxton looks up at me with a swirling mess of lust and longing and pleading. A look that melts my heart, spins my insides and creams my panties.

“I’ve been so fucking well-behaved, Harper. So fucking …” he grits his teeth, “restrained. I know this is fucked up. Wrong. I know it could cause all of us trouble. But god damn it, I want you so badly.”

Owen growls in a way that tells me he feels exactly the same way and when I glance Wyatt’s way, I can see that same intensity reflected in his eyes too.

“Open your thighs, Omega,” Daxton orders, “and lift up your skirt.”

I do as he says, my hands shaking with desire.

“Is this another lesson?” I ask him. “One where I show you how to satisfy an omega through a heat?” Because this is my heat. I’m sure of it now. My body reacts as if his words and touch are a match and I am paper.

“No, this is no lesson, Omega. This is the real thing. It’s always been the real thing between us, Harper,” he says, burying his face against my panties and taking a deep inhale. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about your beautiful fucking pussy.”

Wyatt and Owen crowd around the two of us, leaning against the wall.

“Remember all the things we did to you before,” Owen says. “I want to do them all again.”

“Yes,” I pant, as Daxton threads my panties down my legs, helping me to step out of them. Then he cups my foot in his hand and lifts my bruised toe to his mouth, kissing it gently before sucking the thing into my mouth.

And … Oh!! Oh, my!! That is … that is just as good as it was ten years ago.

“I want to taste every part of you,” Daxton mutters. “Eat every part of you.”

“Would you like that, Harper?” Owen whispers beside me. “Is that what you want?”

In reply, I grab a fistful of Owen’s shirt and drag his mouth right onto mine, kissing him deep and slow.

“I think we should consider that a yes,” Wyatt says as Daxton chuckles and sucks his way up my leg, higher and higher until he reaches the tender inside of my thigh. Here he hesitates and I push Owen gently away to see why.

“I’m going to kiss you right here, Omega,” he says against my pussy lips, “and while I kiss you, I want you to kiss Owen and then I want you to kiss Wyatt. Can you do that for me?”

In answer, I pull Owen towards me again and as Owen’s tongue probes my mouth, Daxton’s probes between my pussy lips, both exploring, stroking, caressing. I sigh as the combined effect takes over me and then I feel another tongue on my neck, gliding along my skin.

I remember this, just what it’s like to be with more than one man, with more than one alpha, to have my senses engulfed, my body overwhelmed, to be overcome completely.

How did I ever put up with Laurent? How did I ever think one man would be enough? I’m an omega and I was meant for a pack.

Daxton sucks on my clit, making me giddy, as Owen and Wyatt swap places – Wyatt now kissing my mouth as Owen kisses my neck. One of my hands grips Owen’s shirt, the other grips Wyatt’s. Daxton lifts my leg (the one with the injured toe) and hooks it over his shoulder, opening me up further for him.

I moan and Wyatt kisses me harder, Owen yanking down the straps of my dress and the neckline and squeezing at my tit, before he’s sucking on that too.

“Oh …” I moan, “oh sacré bleu !”

Owen lifts his mouth from my nipple.

“Fuck, that sounds hot. Anyone know what that means?”

“It means she likes it,” Wyatt says, cradling my jaw, “she likes it a lot.”

My hands tense in their shirts as Daxton sucks on me harder and then I’m coming noisily and messily, slicking right over my step-brother’s face. Wyatt kisses me right through my orgasm as Owen continues to tease my nipple, and, when I float back down to earth, I find Daxton staggering up onto his feet, licking his lips like a cat who just got the cream. Or an alpha who just got his face creamed on.

“We can’t stay here,” Owen says, yanking down my skirt and pulling up my top. “Not if she’s going into heat.”

I shake my head wildly, pawing at all three of them. All of a sudden I feel wild with need. I know it’s my heat starting. I also know, just like Daxton, I’ve reached my limit of restraint. I can’t do this any longer, pretend I don’t want them, when I do; I want them so so much.

“I need to be fucked. I need to be rutted,” I whine, with abandon, not caring any more about the consequences, not caring about any of it. “I need a knot.”

It’s been so long since I had a knot. Too long. I wonder how I have survived.

“We know you do,” Owen says, soothingly, stroking back the now damp hair from my face. “But if your parents come home …”

He trails off and if I were in my right mind, if I weren’t riddled with hormones, vibrating with desire and throbbing for a knot, perhaps that would have me snapping back to my senses and yanking the brakes on.

Then again. Maybe it wouldn’t. Who am I kidding? I’ve been dreaming about this – secretly wanting it – ever since I arrived back in Rockview and found these three in my parents’ living room.

Just like Daxton, I’ve been sensible, I’ve shown restraint.

I can’t with that anymore. I just want them. All of them.

I rub against Owen, trying to find some friction, desperate for some more relief. He swears and scoops me into his arms.

“Where are we going to take her?” I hear Wyatt ask, through my beginning-to-befuddle brain.

“Where else?” Owen says, as he walks me out of the door. “Home. Where she fucking belongs.”