“What?”
“Shut up, Bren,” Rhys said, rolling up and into a kneeling position, moving closer, the other alphas getting the idea, until I was blocked in by them, the compressed space satisfying something inside me. Then I was on my hands and knees, making a very close inspection of each of their knots until they erupted all over me.
“Marking her with our seed,” Brendan said with a satisfied purr. “No de-scenter is gonna mask that. Cunning fucking bastard.”
“Cyn.” James opened the sliding door to his studio, the building a long add-on to the old bungalow he lived in, most of the walls double paned glass to let the light in. “I never expected you’d come.” He stopped in the doorway, looking me up and down, as a potential model or something else, I couldn’t tell. The boys thought they could, low growls rumbling in their throats. “And you’ve brought quite the entourage.”
“She’s in frenzy, dips in and out all the time,” Rhys said, shouldering forward. “She’s still working it out, but we’re hers.”
“We?” James’ face was a picture of surprise. “Just how many we’s are you talking here?”
“My mates and I,” Orion said, pushing past all of us to walk right up to the open doorway. “She says she loves your artwork, that she always has, so show her some.”
“Surely that’s for her…” James’ voice trailed away, and then he looked from me to Orion. “You’re not buying into that whole alpha-omega bullshit? Like, obviously our phys
iology influences us, but—”
He finished the sentence with a strangled moan, Orion leaning in, his nose almost on the man’s skin as he cupped James’ cock aggressively.
“And you’re not hard for my girl, right?”
“Orion!” I cried, but he was backing away from the man, hands in the air before either of us could do anything about it. He slung his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his body, pressing a kiss on my temple before I could snap my teeth at him.
James didn’t look especially perturbed though, casting an artist’s eye over the four of us, then nodding.
“Leave the goons outside. I’m a bloody artist, not a sex trafficker. If the three of you can’t fend off any unwanted advances, then you’re not worthy of her.”
“Fair enough,” Rhys said, moving closer when James made way for us to enter his studio.
“Oh my god,” I moaned as I peered at the drawings framed on the walls. He had a massive draughtsman’s table set up facing what was left of the garden. It was pretty, had that hazy, wild cottage garden feel, full of daisies, geraniums, and hydrangeas, but he’d used most of the space here for his studio. I ran a finger over a shelf of leatherbound artist’s journals, then snatched it back when he drew close.
“Grab one,” he said, taking one from the shelf and handing it to me when I wouldn’t. The guys shifted beside me, but apart from the careless brush of fingers, they let me be. I took a hold of the book, fumbling it at first, then tightening my grip. “Take a look. There’s nothing inappropriate in there, I don’t think.” He moved until he was looking over my shoulder, opening it onto heaven. He wanted to skim through it, flicking the thick cotton rag paper like it was a magazine or something, but I wouldn’t let him.
“You really like this stuff, don’t you?” His brown eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t think I’ve seen actual unfeigned interest since art school. It’s terribly refreshing.” His gaze flicked up as Rhys placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come sit. Array yourself in your mates’ arms, if that’s what it takes for those thunderous expressions to fade. You’re very beautiful together.” Chadwick looked us over with an assessing eye. “I’d like to sketch the four of you, if you’re amenable.”
“I thought you wanted to see the art, not be the art,” Brendan said to me, but he led me over to the couch that spread the width of the room. A massively oversized thing, obviously made for alphas.
“Both, all,” I mumbled as I flicked through the pages, seeing the little sketches and colour studies that led to some of the artworks I loved the best. “More. I just want more.”
“Damn, you shred my control, omega,” Rhys said, sitting down so close, he was almost on top of me. “I will never get sick of hearing that, preferably naked.”
“Looks like that’d work for his style,” Orion said, standing by the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored pants. He raked his dark hair back as he peered at some of the drawings.
“Nude, not naked. Someone with their clothes off, ready to fuck in front of the camera, is naked, an unclothed body used to communicate a message, a mood, an idea is nude,” Chadwick opined.
“And you want to see our omega ‘nude’?” Orion asked, prowling closer and then throwing himself down on the couch beside us, wrapping an arm around Brendan’s shoulders.
“I’m an artist. My stock in trade is beauty. If we’re being perfectly blunt, I’d very much like all of you nude, tangled in each other on my couch. Three alphas and one omega? That’s unheard of.”
“Four,” Brendan said bluntly, staring up at James with a steady gaze. “Four alphas. Marcus couldn’t be here.”
“Ah, yes, McCallum. I wondered at that.” James’ pencil began to move across a piece of paper, his eyes flicking between us and the sketch. “I thought him too caught up in posturing to surrender to a situation like this.” His lips pursed as he watched us without watching us. We were just lines and shapes to him now. “I’m fascinated by the group dynamic, because it’s been a theme of my work of late. Unconventional pairings, when people go against what are supposed to be the strictures of their designation and join together in spite of it.”
“He showed me an illustration of two omegas. They looked like Heaven and Hell, at war with each other,” I explained.
“Two omegas together?” Brendan snorted. “They’d drive each other mad, looking for what they couldn’t get in the other.”
“I don’t know if it’s an especially peaceful relationship,” James replied, hand working as he continued to draw in small movements, evidently shading a section. “But the love there was tangible. Is it the lack of an alpha that tears at them all the time? It’s why I drew them at war, but hurting because of it. They seemed to like the ache of not having an alpha, and putting one between them would have resulted in real anger, their territorial instincts kicking in. That’s what caused the most fights when they came here—when they started vying for my attention.”