Page 105 of Generation Omega: Claimed
There’s not a doubt in the world about that. He begins slowly, undressing me while my body arches and my legs part, the blissful ache of desire spiraling to ever loftier heights. His throaty purr confronts and defeats all my remaining stress about everything that’s happened during this exceedinglylongday. When we’re both naked, kissing and close, Jamie smoothly enters me, taking me in the dreamy way a perfect lover does. He manages the balance so well, between mastering my body and sharing his. The whole time, there’s nothing in the universe but us—I even forget we’re in the back of a truck.
My heart. His heart. There’s no space between us, no discordance in our shared rhythm. As Jamie thrusts inside me—while more present than he’s ever been with anyone—I recognize the change, the way my heart blooms. I don’t understand it, but the fuller my heart becomes, the more I feel that ancient garden with me. I thought it was just Mackenzie and Ory who were my links to that magical place, but now I wonder… or I will,later, when I’m not so passionately occupied.
Oh, dear omegaverse, thank you for my omega constitution that welcomes powerfully penetrating cocks and knots. With Jamie’s eyes locked to mine, he drives us toward completion. I grip him at first, but as I begin to climb that spire toward delicious oblivion, my arms are splayed out and my body his to own. He does… he claims all of me—thebestsandworstsof my past, present, and future—and his gaze is pure truth.
When we reach the pinnacle together, I cry out, the sound echoing inside the enclosed space as his knot seals us together. Sweaty, panting, and full of his seed… omega life rules. Still, we’re lost in each other, completely together, the only two people in this omega’s garden. Bliss achieved.
Then I feel the flickers of his mind opening to me, an unconditional offering of his inner world. This isn’t flashy or self-promoting—what he shares is an honest, incredibly courageous journey through his life. It’s one of the most awing displays of trust I’ve ever seen, and I can’t miss what’s being declared with every moment he reveals. He’s mine, all his life available to me and only me. Jamie might as well be shouting from the mountaintop or broadcasting it on billboards in all the major cities around the globe, that this gallivanting playboy is officially off the market. I already knew that, but this just confirms that I’m the luckiest, richest woman who ever lived.
I’m once again struck by the one commonality that I completely missed in my alphas. I thought it was Mackenzie and Kazimir alone who were experiencing the first bloom of love in their lives. But how could I not see it? The detail my alphas share is so obvious. Gideon tried to tell me when I was feisty about all the potential love interests who came before me, and I completely failed to recognize his loneliness and desire for connection. Jamie is the same—he’s never known romantic love, never felt what he feels for me, never trusted anyone to love him back.
I want to screamI will… I promise I will. But I don’t need to, because he’s now in my head, sharing the same road as I walk beside him through his past.
Then his sexy-as-hell voice is in my mind.I’ve never trusted anyone—not since my mother died in the way she did, with so much unsaid and unfinished. I didn’t trust the world, my father, or extended family. It was easy to believe that life itself was just this cruel game we all had to play until the rug was finally pulled out from under us one last time. I never imagined I could be so gleeful about being completely wrong about everything.
Jamie runs his fingers through my hair, still captivated by me.“Now, let’s see—did I leave anything out?” He thankfullyomitted all theshes who shall not be named, which was wise. Jamie perks up, excitement flowing from him. “Have I shown you why I was in the Bay Area?”
I scoff. “Weren’t you busy living your party lifestyle? Or were you really there for Omega-Palooza?”
That earns me a sassy smile. “If only I’d known how smoking hot omegees are, not even a restraining order would have kept me away. But no.” Jamie lightly brushes his fingertips over my forehead, encouraging me to close my eyes. Then he takes me into another memory, this one involving the loveliest home I’ve ever seen. It’s adorable, but more than that, it’s a funky Victorian place, with one round room in an otherwise square house and a turret above it. The style… it’s the cottage version of Auntie Jem’s historic building, only yellow with white decorative accents.
It was my mother’s place from before she met my dad. She never got rid of it, even when life took her to the governor’s mansion and the various homes of a senator. She would have rocked the White House, loving all that Christmas tree lighting, turkey pardons, and Easter egg hunts. My mom glided through all of it with the same grace that she danced as a prima ballerina all over the world.
His eyes take on the most boyish glow yet.Did you know she was a painter too? Her art studio is still in that house. Most of her paintings are there too.Jamie immediately guides me through his experiences in each room, especially that studio with a view of a miraculous old tree in the backyard. Her last painting is still on its easel, a stunning representation of the tree in dazzling colors. Blue, orange, purple, with magnificent warmth and light.
My mother loved that tree. She always said it was holding court, and if you listened closely enough, you could hear the spirits presenting their cases. You know, I’d forgotten untilnow, but she said that house was where our family was meant to bloom, but that she wouldn’t be there to see it. I thought she meant we were supposed to keep it for some descendants who would live long after we were gone. But now, I wonder if she meant something else.
Even though I hid from the memories of my childhood, that house is where I always go when I need to remember that I once had a home, safety, a place to breathe where no one could find me.
I’m stuck on the architecture, the meaning behind the similarity. How many buildings have round turret rooms? And yet, my nest is in one and Jamie’s mother owned another. But all consideration of Victorian styles is obliterated by the first hint of the most miraculous thing ever. It tickles my nose first, and then when Jamie leans to kiss me, I taste it and gasp.
Alarmed, he pulls back. “What is it? Are you okay?”
I’m smiling so goofily my cheeks ache. “Itastedyou.” I inhale without moderation. “Ifinallyknow your scent.”
His grin is now adorably lopsided, and pride lives in his eyes, something I haven’t seen in them before now. “So, are we a scent match or are you kicking me to the curb…ifmy knot ever releases you?”
“Oh, yeah, we’redefinitelyscent compatible—thank goodness. But I’m not sure you’re going to be pleased with your scent. You can’t smell it, can you?”
“No, but I demand to know. Just tell me it’s super manly, infinitely more studly than your other alphas.”
My giggles erupt, becausemanlyisn’t the theme of my alphas’ scents—their bodies, yes, but the fragrance that’s meant to lure this omega proves what’s most important to me. And someone is about to be annoyed with the omegaverse’s twisted sense of humor. “How can I say this without upsetting you?”
“Oh, no. Is it embarrassing?”
“For anyone else, probably not, but I think you might be the target of some omega legacy hazing… that’spermanent.”
Jamie’s sullen grunt is too joyous to be believed, and he rolls his eyes like a first-time acting student. “Why am I not surprised? Of course, theyalwayspick on the bad boy.”
The secret is huffy and wants to get out, but I manage to maintain my coy tone as I deliver a clue. “It makes sense why your scent didn’t arrive until now, when we finally got…missionary.”
Jamie’s face becomes a mask of overstated horror. “No, it can’t be! I’m notvanilla, am I? That is embarrassing!”
I lean and lick his neck, moaning my absolute ecstasy. “Vanilla cupcake with strawberry frosting—my favorite thing in the world.”
“Vanilla…sheesh.” But even as he grumbles, everything about him, both inside and out, tells the story of his contentment, his gratitude, and his willingness to trust-fall forever with me.
As I engage more with his appealing fragrance, I unlock the rest of its notes. “It’s more than the taste or the smell. Gideon’s salted caramel is beachy, summer-vacation goodness. Mackenzie and I share the same scent, and it’s like an ancient garden calling. With your decadence, it’s like a hidden lake with a swing that sails out over the water, or maybe a little boat that we share, lazily carried around while always safe from harm.”
