Good Girl by Sam Hall
Chapter 20
“I want to go to James Chadwick’s studio,” I said, lying on the bed.
Days had passed. I’d spoken to Mum, let her know what was going down, and she was strangely cool with it all. That didn’t make sense, but every time I went to question why she was being so accepting, they guys would drag me back down to the bed, to the oblivion of their arms.
“And Chadwick wants to fuck your arse,” Orion said, walking his fingers down my spine. “And your pussy. He might look all hipster cool, but he’s an alpha under the wanker exterior. It’s what he wants.”
“It’s what we all want,” Brendan said, moving behind me, raising my hips and biting my butt cheek, making me thrash underneath him. “You smell so fucking good. Like honey and fresh cooked biscuits and—”
“Stop comparing me to baked goods,” I said, kicking out at him and then pulling away. “He’s my favourite artist. I’ve been fangirling over him since I discovered his work. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get this opportunity, and I want to go. I’ll take suppressants.”
“You’ll take the boys is what you’ll do,” Marcus said, emerging from the bathroom freshly showered and fastening the buttons of his shirt. “Or better yet, just take them. Over and over.” He walked over, looking down at the four of us with a disturbing look of smiling possessiveness. “Wring every pleasure you can from them. Watch Brendan seat himself on Rhys’ dick, splitting him in half as his cock oozes pre-cum.”
“You’re playing dirty,” I said on a growl. “I want that. Fuck, do I want that, but I need out. I’ve been locked up in a room that reeks of sex for days now, Marcus. I need outside stimulation.”
He stilled at that. “Then come down to my playrooms, and I’ll make sure every inch of you is stimulated. Tied down to a pommel horse, a soft flogger applied to that delicious little arse, a silver bit between your teeth, tears running down your face as your muffled cries ask for more, you’d be quite the picture.”
A picture I could see all too clearly, something he noted, his smile growing cruel.
“I could work the others over for your edification. It’s been too bloody long since they’ve been disciplined. Unruly bastards.”
“Not me,” Rhys said, lying backwards and hauling me up to lie beside him. “If she wants to spank me or make me walk across the floor on my hands and knees with a stainless steel plug up my butt, I’ll do it, but you don’t top me. I’ve told you that.”
“But you’ll let the omega?” Marcus’ smile grew wider, his fangs peeking out. “Cyn, tell me yes, and I’ll make all your dreams come true.”
“Like letting me go to James Chadwick’s studio?”
Orion chuckled, rolling into me and kissing me. I was never, ever going to get used to that casual affection. My heart sucked it up like a thirsty sponge, but my head?
It wanted to go to Chadwick’s studio.
I kissed him back, because I loved the feel of Orion’s lips on mine, the way he pulled back, glancing at me as if to be sure I was still there and not whisked away like a faerie, but I did it slowly, sensually, until he groaned and pulled me closer. Something Marcus caught every second of. I rolled my eyes sideways to take in his expression, his fingers frozen at his buttons. I threw Orion back against the bed, crawling on top of him, the boys seeming to go mad when I played at dominating them. I kissed my way down his throat, letting my teeth drag against the skin.
“Fuck yes, Cyn…”
I sucked a mouthful in, increasing the suction until the blood vessels had popped, temporarily marking him. When I pulled back, Orion stared at me wide-eyed, not protesting as I kissed my way over his well muscled chest, following his happy trail down until I moved down his cock, sucking and licking his swollen knot. And then I rolled my eyes up to try and meet Marcus’.
“I see why they want you to top them, you little minx.” A hand landed on my arse, firm enough to sting a little. “If you go, you will do every single thing I tell you, in that order, without argument, omega. And then when you come back, you’ll follow my orders in the playroom as well. Do we understand each other?”
He didn’t need to ask, the command vibrating in his voice, but part of what he required from me was my choice, a flexibility I was starting to use to my own advantage.
He watched me jack Orion’s cock up and down, the alpha groaning as I worshipped his knot. I’d learned that they were super sensitive there, more so now there was an omega in the mix.
“You’ll take several security guards, one of the cars with the bulletproof glass, make sure the GPS is activated at all times. Your phone will be on and with you for the entire visit, and if I ring and don’t get through, I’ll instruct my men to bundle you up in whatever state you’re in and bring you here.”
Marcus finished setting his shirt to rights, looking the picture of a modern business man as I sucked his lover’s dick.
“But you’ll get acquainted with all my lover’s knots before you leave, because you’ll be choosing one to take today.”
“Fuck, Marcus,” Rhys growled. “Don’t do this.”
“That’s my price, with one caveat.” He held up a hand, silencing all of us. “Not Orion’s.”
“You really hate me, don’t you?” Orion snapped. “Like, I love you, but you are such a fucking cu—”
“You’ve taken his and you need more, I can feel it. I’ll always make sure you have what you need, omega, including this trip to your artist. Just don’t come back here smelling of Chadwick. If he’s what you need, we’ll step back.”
“Says you,” Brendan shot back, Rhys growling in agreeance.
“But you’ll come back here and tell me first, that’s all I ask.”
And with that, he smacked me on my arse as he strode out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
“High-handed bastard,” Brendan muttered. “Get up, omega, and I’ll get you some de-scenter. We’re gonna have to douse you in it to stop your artist from becoming rampant. There’s no chance he’s mated?”
“Not with the scents pouring off him. He was interested in our little omega,” Orion replied.
“But Marcus said—” I started to say.
“Fuck Marcus,” Brendan said, “or don’t. That’d put him in his place. He’d never force you, and seeing him panting on the sidelines for once would be well worth the price of admission.”
“But Marcus said,” I repeated, enunciating the words more clearly now.
“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 physiology 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.”
He snorted and shook his head, but his focus didn’t wane.
“In the end, I drew them in separate sessions, and the pain of being apart came through every fibre of their being, which I recorded.” He pulled back, holding up his drawing and looking at us, then the sketch critically. “So why don’t you tell me about the way your unconventional relationship works? People must be equally shocked that four alphas can share one omega. It seems a practical solution to our omega shortage, but of course, that would mean that we alphas would need to set aside all our possessive posturing. Or is a battle waged every night, to see who wins the place by the fair maiden’s side?”
I turned to watch Brendan and Orion, feeling them move and knowing what was coming and needing to see that more than my next breath. Rhys’ hand tightened on my hip as I watched Orion lean closer, closer to Brendan, stringing the whole thing out for the benefit of the audience. You could have heard a pin drop when their lips connected. A strong hand slid up my spine, long, slow strokes as they kissed.
“Well, well…” Chadwick said. “It looks like my instincts were right—this is a very unconventional relationship indeed.”
But I found it hard to focus on what he was saying, the two alphas turning to me, eyes alight. The bright sunlight picked out the scatter of freckles across Brendan’s nose, the slightly too long curl of his hair, the way his full lips plumped under Orion’s assault. And Orion’s were just as pouty as those green eyes narrowed down on me.
“Come here, omega,” Orion ordered. “Show the nosy artist what we do. He’s shown us his, now it’s our turn.”
I shouldn’t, the need to keep this shit under the radar riding me hard, but no more than them. I could ignore his words, stay nice and neat and normal-looking on my favourite artist’s couch, or I could do this.
There was a definite disadvantage to being alpha or omega. Our designations, our very nature put us at odds with the majority of society. Alphas, they made their mark on the world, forcing it to bend when they wanted it to, to fit them and their needs. But an omega? Lowest down the hierarchy, yet also the most prized, we were always tagged as weak, whining, pathetic little things. But what could be braver than this? Having the eyes of the world upon us as we surrendered to our alphas so completely, giving them everything we had, trusting them to recognise that gift and treat it with the respect it deserved.
I kissed Brendan first, half crawling into his lap to do so, the small distance between us too much, Orion’s hand skating down my spine as I took his mate’s mouth. Slowly, conscious of the show we were putting on and unable to stop from playing up to that, Brendan’s hands slapped down on my hips, shoving me down as he pushed up against me.
“Are you tipping into frenzy again?” Orion asked, trying for calm concern, but his eyes were trained on us, finally darting in to taste me, then Brendan, and back again until we were all breathless.
“Keep going,” James said through gritted teeth. “This is fucking amazing. You’ll have to sit for me again. I could generate enough pieces from this to hold a whole other show.”
Which cooled my blood somewhat. Suppressants operate primarily to mask an omega’s scent, to redirect unwanted attention away from them and stop alphas thinking scent is consent. But they helped reduce the intensity of frenzy, not allowing me to get swept away by everything that was going down.
“Tell me how you all met, how you came to share an omega.”
I looked across at Rhys, who watched everything going on from behind that fall of sandy hair, particularly James. He was like a sentinel standing watch over us, making sure we were safe as we clawed at each other.
“This is what you wanted, to interrogate us,” he said to the artist in a low rumble.
“Not interrogate,” Chadwick replied. “I could draw you all very competently just as you are, but that’s not art, that’s replication. It’s what’s inside, the dynamics between the models, that is where the true art begins. The more I understand, the more I can imbue my drawings with.”
“You wanna know about us?” Rhys asked, the challenge apparent in his voice before his gaze softened, turning to me and hauling me into his lap. He buried his nose in my hair, breathing me in deep, as if to suck every bit of my subdued scent in. “I’ll bite. Our story is a long one.”
“All the better,” the artist said as he sketched rapidly, making marks on the page before discarding the drawing for another piece of paper. “Tell me your story.”