Desired by the Pack: Part One: A BBW Paranormal Romance (7 page)

“You are not the only one who wants and needs.” He spoke the words carefully, slowly, and she realized his jaw had changed.

Fear lent an unexpected edge to her arousal. Dragging air into her lungs, she lowered her gaze to his chin.

Werewolves fucked in different forms. She knew that. Even wearing different forms in the same bed. But this was new for her, every bit of it strange, from the naturally dominant and submissive roles--such as they were--to the ease with which she fit between Cross and Beck.

Shared by them.

She was in so much trouble. In so deep.

And she wanted to go in deeper, Goddess help her.

Maybe Beck read something in her face or body language. Maybe he scented a change in her. She didn’t ask, but something prompted him to lower his hands, claw-tipped fingers trailing gently along her jaw.

He lowered his hands and she lifted hers. One touch. That’s what she allowed herself on the way to getting his jeans open. She savored the power of him all bound up and straining against cotton. She could have explored him like that but settled with tracing the bulge from the base of his zipper to the tab.

Yearning rumbled in his chest. Not fool enough to toy with the wolf, she wedged her fingers behind the button and eased it free. Zipper next and she didn’t just reach in to retrieve his cock. She peeled his jeans down until the waist sat at his upper thighs, held there by the extra bulk he’d grown in this between-form.

He didn’t wear underwear. Freed from its prison, his cock sprang out to find her. Thick, heavy, with a broad tip, purple with blood, it glanced off her cheek because she didn’t move out of the way fast enough.

Then Cross speared his hands into her hair, palms to her scalp, and she couldn’t have evaded because the strong man behind her pushed her mouth onto Beck’s cock and held her there.

The restraint was unnecessary but her pussy liked it so she didn’t fight. Besides, the reward was sweet and salt, soft and steel as she swirled her tongue around Beck’s hot flesh.

Digging her fingertips into the solid muscles of his ass, she took as much as she could. By the way he shuddered, hips pulsing toward her, she knew it wasn’t enough.

“Use your hands.” Cross’s voice was thick with arousal.

As she stretched her lips past the point of comfort and took Beck so deep she couldn’t really use her tongue anymore, possibilities charged through her racing imagination.

Would they take her together? One behind her, one beneath, hammering her body with the strength packaged up tight in their warrior bodies?

At the mental image, she groaned and snaked one hand down between her legs. She fisted the base of Beck’s shaft and pushed her fingers into her underwear, searching for the slippery, swollen nub that trembled there.

Behind her, Cross dropped to his knees. The sudden movement pulled her hair, tilting her head back. She rolled her eyes to look up at Beck, trying to gauge his proximity to release.

He still looked hungry.

She swallowed, tried to take him deeper. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to suck him off. Maybe--

Eyes narrowing, she slid her mouth off him. His wet tip nuzzled the curve of her neck as she stared at him, suspicious and suddenly angry.

“You’re holding back.”

He met her accusation with a nod.

“Why?”

“I’m going to come in your cunt, not your mouth. Face to face.”

She pulled her hand out of her pants. Beck’s nostrils flared as she painted her lips with the wetness. “This mouth? This is the mouth you don’t actually want?”

“Who said anything about not wanting it?” Cross bunched up her hair and turned her head. His lips slanted across hers. He sucked at the moisture she’d placed there, stabbed his tongue into her mouth.

January melted into the kiss, so unexpected, something she hadn’t even wanted until she got it.

But the sound of fabric tearing, of a snarl that was barely human, robbed her of that pleasure.

True fear chased in its wake.

5

He should have walked away from them, January and Cross wrapped around each other on the scuffed, faded kitchen floor. Her fear was as palpable as her desire. Both emotions called to both his halves. Wolf and man, both spirits wanted her.

Until the moment Cross claimed her kiss, wolf and man had been in agreement on sharing.

The Guardians shared a link that could cross miles.
Realms
. As individuals, the emotions they experienced could and often did overflow into one another.

Right now, Cross weathered the buffeting wind of Beck’s possessive jealousy. He wrapped his arms around January and stood, pushing her behind him while he faced off with Beck.

Are you claiming her
?

Beck chewed on the question. Was he?
I want her
.

Cross wasn’t satisfied.
Are you
claiming
her
?

His heart pounded, fueled by adrenaline and the silvery magic of the moon. January stood a step to Cross’s left. She’d
folded her arms over her generous breasts, shielding them from his view. She swayed on her feet and her full lips trembled until she bit them, punishing the physical tell.

Goddess, he wanted her. The mark around her navel drew his gaze.

He was more than entitled to take her, but if what she’d told him was true…

If she’d given her wolf away--broken the magic that made her a suitable mate--if she’d failed to change, he
couldn’t
claim her.

Not in any way except this.

“Beck.” Cross spoke his name out loud. The syllable made January jerk. Her gaze flew to his.

Exhaling, Beck shook his head.
No
.

Cross snorted.
And if I claim her? Will I live to see another moon rise?

“No,” Beck snarled.

January pressed her hand to her throat. One of her dusky nipples peeked from behind the inadequate cloak of her arm.

Abandoning the pack link, Cross said, “Where are we going from here?”

“Forward.” As far as they
could
go. Beck held his hand out to January.

She stared at it a moment before she lifted her gaze to his. She was wary, but she wanted more than she feared. Beck waited patiently while her instincts warred.

He knew when fear lost. Her lips parted and her breath hitched. She stepped back into the sandwich he and Cross created with their bodies and she lowered her arms.

But she didn’t let him get away with his misbehavior.

Holding his gaze, she said, “I am not yours.”

“Not up for discussion tonight.” Beck traced his fingers over the lips that had brought him down this path. “These are trouble. Will you keep them closed or do I have to close them?”

Something vulnerable flashed in her eyes, belying the defiant set of her jaw. She pressed her cinnamon lips together and he suddenly knew why he’d nearly lost his control when Cross kissed her.

Those sweet, swollen lips belonged under
his
mouth.

So he took them, swooping in to trap the lush bottom curve between his teeth. January froze like a startled deer and Cross moved in, keeping her from running by stripping her pants down her hips.

Her desire bloomed stronger than ever, as drugging in this open space as it had been in the closed confines of the truck.

Tonight he would taste that tempting nectar.

Breathing hard, he raised his head. January’s eyes were half-closed. She’d stopped covering her breasts. Now her hands rested on the blades of his hips, her thumbs gliding up and down the long cuts of his pelvic muscles.

Cuffing her wrists with his hands, he stretched her arms out to her sides.

“You want me,” she said softly, looking up into his eyes.

“We both do.” Cross stepped back, pulling her hips as he did.

Beck didn’t trust himself to answer.

January lost eye contact with Beck when Cross turned her around and removed the rest of her clothes. Outside the urgency of Heat, she struggled with the reality of her body, which was too soft and too well-padded for modern ideals of beauty. The gentle yellow glow cast by the light over the kitchen sink gave her a few shadows to wear as a shield. Trying not to think about werewolves’ excellent night vision, she pressed her knees together and covered her breasts as much as she could with her arms.

Her chest, shoulders and face burned hot with a flush of shyness. Biting her lip, she stared at the floor. “We could go upstairs, find a bed…”

Find a dark room, so she could hide from their assessing gazes.

“You don’t have dessert in bed,” Cross said. “Look at me, or you’ll miss the show.”

January peeked up through her lashes, which must have satisfied Cross because he  peeled his shirt over his head and lowered his hands to his pants. At the edge of her vision, she realized Beck was also stripping. Dark hair dusted the upper planes of his chest and formed a thin line down his muscular abs. The thin trail tapered off before reaching his navel, which was adorned only by the alpha sigil that matched hers.

“Winter-wolf,” he said, and her eyes flew to his face. Beck held her gaze a moment before very deliberately looking away, inspecting every dip and curve of her body while he slowly, pointedly fisted his cock.

January swallowed hard. The message was clear, and she found herself believing that he wanted her, even without some Moon-given duty to ease her through her Heat cycle. She wanted to say something to him but nothing except a sigh passed her parted lips. Since she couldn’t find words, she lowered her arms and gave her body to him instead

“Beautiful.” The low, approving growl reminded her of Cross. Tearing her enthralled gaze from Beck, she looked at Cross in time to watch
him shed his pants. His thick erection sprung forward from a thatch of tight gold curls, ruddy and already wet at the crown, and it didn’t matter that she couldn’t make her vocal chords work. She wouldn’t have been able to form a complete sentence even if she’d wanted to.

Stroking himself, Cross glanced at Beck. “How do you want to do this?”

She could think of a few choice suggestions but she bit the inside of her lip, telling herself the surprise would be the best part.

Beck’s heated gaze raked her body, from her eyebrows down to the cherry polish she’d applied to her toes a week
earlier. “I want to taste her,” he said. “And then I’m going to fuck her until she’s crying for relief.”

Her sharp inhale brought Beck’s focus up to her eyes. He smiled. “Objections?”

She shook her head, but looked at Cross curiously and found enough words to ask, “What about you?”

Cross grabbed the tub of coconut oil off the counter. Her eyes widened, realization dawning a beat before he said, “I want to play with your beautiful ass.”

“I…I…” Her core clenched, all those inner muscles approving while she stuttered.

Beck touched her chin, drawing her attention back to him. “Last chance for objections.”

Another shake of her head. Even if she had anything to add to their plans, her voice had fled again.

Cross twisted the top off the oil tub. The plastic clattered on the counter as he tossed it aside. Mouth dry, she watched him scoop out a generous portion of the half-solid lubricant, which melted on his fingers. Prince used the oil on his braids. Cross’s intent was much more inventive. Sweet, fragrant coconut filled the air as he slicked the oil down his impressive cock.

It looked even bigger with the oil glistening in the light.

“Table’s not going to work.” Beck pulled a chair out and put it in front of her. “Kneel, facing me.”

If both men weren’t already naked, she would have been complaining about the delay. Her inner thighs were sticky with her juices and her clit throbbed, begging for another orgasm.

She slid off the table and knelt on the chair. Beck loomed over her but only for a moment. As she gripped the chair’s back for balance, he crouched down in front of her and palmed her hips. His thumbs parted her folds, exposing her most intimate flesh to his view.