Whitney (3 page)

Whitney rose to her feet and planted her fists on her hips, accentuating the dip and flare of her waist. She needed to stop tempting him. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna go with?” She pointed at him, then Emmett. “You two need to figure out what the heck went wrong. You’ve had since Friday evening and it’s now Sunday. How hard is it to hop onto the World Wide Werewolf Web and find an answer?”

Grumbling, she spun and headed toward the door.

No. She couldn’t leave. Levy’s wolf growled and snarled, the animal manifesting itself beneath his skin, physically scraping against the thin membrane. Darkened nails slid along his arms from inside him. He shuddered with the effort of holding it at bay. The tremors increased when his power shoved at him as well. The magic crackled over him, pricking and biting into him with the desire to be released. It’d detain her, wrap her in a cocoon and then strip her bare for them.

“Whitney, wait.” He took a step toward her, then another, rounding the table and closing the distance between them.

Whitney Wickham, woman who drew him in like no other, turned to him. “You know what, fuck you. Fuck you both.”

Whitney shook—with anger or need?—from head to toe. Emotions battered her from all angles. Inside she was a jumble of confusion and desire. It felt as if her body was being pounded by rage, frustration, and all-consuming desperation for release coming from the air.

The anger fueled hers, the frustration at desiring the two wolves fanned the flames, and their seeming carelessness with her problem just sealed their coffin. She’d worked through this already, darn it. It’d taken her years of fighting her inner-self, but she’d finally gotten over craving two wolves as mates. Then she’d met Emmett and Levy and the desires reared their ugly heads once again.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

She reached for the door’s handle, intent on getting the heck away from them as soon as possible. There was a year before the next Gathering. They could figure it out within the coming 365 days without her.

The door groaned as it opened and she tugged harder against the solid panel, only to have her ticket out of the room slammed closed. A heavy weight settled against her back. The heated breath of one of the men bathed her neck for barely a moment and then she was whirled around. She was pressed against the once open door, Emmett crowding her, his warmth and heavenly scent surrounding her.

“Fuck you? Don’t mind if I do.” A smirk graced his lips.

She should tell him to screw off, to get away from her, to stop touching and arousing her and making her crave him like a drug. She should. But the need in his gaze froze the words in her throat.

Then Levy was there, snug against her right, nudging Emmett to her left. She was bracketed by the large, very aroused Ruling Wardens. Their hard cocks branded her hips and she shuddered. She was pissed and aroused in equal measure. Being more aroused than pissed, pissed her off even more.

Both men inhaled deeply—their chests expanding with the action to brush against her breasts—and growled in unison. Great. They scented her juices. Stupid wolves.

Whitney squirmed, attempted to push her way past the overwhelming males, but they stopped her with partially shifted hands. Levy’s arm snaked over her lower stomach, hand coming to rest on her hip. Emmett slid his palm up her ribcage and halted beneath her left breast. The heat of their touch warmed her from inside out, teasing and tormenting in equal measure.

No. She was pissed at them. Pissed because she wanted them and couldn’t have them. Pissed that they had been jerks. Pissed that they hadn’t bothered researching…

Oh. Wait a minute.

Emmett nuzzled her, his rough cheek scraping the tender skin of her neck and she couldn’t suppress her moan. Her sound was answered by Levy as he mimicked his fellow Warden. Two mouths danced over her exposed flesh, tongues lapping at her and teeth scratching her throat. Her pussy clenched, growing heavier and aching more as each second passed.

They kneaded the flesh they held, hands wandering and stroking her. Emmett eased his touch higher, skimming her breast and finally cupping the heavy weight. Levy slid to her center, rubbing her lower belly before going even… lower. His fingers came to rest above her mound, the heat and pressure adding to her need.

Damn her clothing.

Oh. Wait another minute.

Emmett tormented her breast, fingers plucking her nipple and pinching the hardened nub while Levy traveled farther south. His hand skimmed the silken fabric of her skirt and, bending down, he snared the hem before disappearing beneath the flimsy covering. His callused palm scraped her skin, leaving goose bumps in his wake. The higher he rose, the needier she became, her pussy dampening more and more.

As wrong as it was for her, she wanted them both.

Levy neared her heat and she spread her legs farther, granting him unspoken access to where she desired him—
them
—most. He growled when his palm met the juncture of her thighs and she whimpered with the first wave of pleasure his firm touch drew forth.

Whitney burned for them, body desperate for their possession. Unbidden, she slid her palms along their abdomens and on, hunting what she desired. Then she moaned when she found what she sought. The thick ridge of their cocks pulsed beneath her hands, the cloth of their jeans the only thing keeping her from feeling the heat of their dicks. She rubbed and stroked them, sliding up and down their lengths.

Their moans turned into growls and those wicked mouths continued their torment. Nips, licks, scrapes, and nibbles rained down on her shoulders and throat. Pleasure assaulted her, raced through her from head to toe and she couldn’t withhold the groans and gasps that built inside her.

She shuddered and writhed, kicking at her conscience every time it piped up in protest. She wanted this even if it was wrong. She could have regrets… later. Much, much later. For now she would live out her lifelong fantasies.

Emmett’s touch floated away and she whined at the loss only to moan when he returned… under her top, inside her bra, bare hand now cupping and caressing her breast.

“Yes,” she hissed and then Levy’s fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties to stroke her soaked flesh. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

It wouldn’t take much, no more than a few flicks of her clit, and she’d come screaming their names.

Levy slipped a single digit between her sex lips, the rough pad of his finger sliding over that bundle of nerves and she rocked her hips into the caress. All the while, she stroked them and hoped she gave them the same pleasure they gifted her.

“Please…” She whimpered and they growled, one immediately following the other.

Emmett’s touch became more firm, plucking and flicking her nipple until she thought she’d go crazy with the need for them. Once again he retreated, but then cool air bathed her breast before a heated, wet mouth captured her nipple. He tapped the hardened nub with his tongue, licking and suckling that bit of flesh. Every pull sent another bolt of pleasure through her body, drawing her closer and closer to release.

Their touch, their scent, their very presence hurtled her toward the edge. Pleasure coursed through her veins in ever increasing speed, pricking her nerve endings and sending shudders through her body.

Seeming to sense her impending orgasm, their attentions increased. Touches grew more firm, kisses and nibbles became more passionate, and Levy’s teasing caresses focused on her clit.

“God. Yes. Need.” Whitney needed
so
bad.

A low, grumbled “mine” from Levy was immediately echoed by Emmett and she promised herself she’d bitch at them about tossing that word around later. Like, after she came. Wolves couldn’t toy with a woman that way. She, hypothetically, accepted this would be a onetime thing. It was her single chance to get her ovelay for the ardensway out of her system for good.

Whitney squeezed and stroked the cocks pulsing beneath her palms, milking them in the same rhythm that they tormented her. She rocked and writhed against Levy’s hand, begging and directing his ministrations in equal measure.

Just a little more…

“There. So close, please please please please.” Her words came out as heavy, panting moans and whines.

Twin stings jolted her, a hint of pain searing her nipple and shoulder at the same moment and she went flying over the edge. Her release washed through her in a gigantic wave. Her nerve endings flared to life, seeming to burn her from inside out as the bliss flooded her. Whitney’s pussy clenched, silently begging to be filled and stretched by their thick cocks. She wanted them hard and deep, plunging into her over and over again.

Another bolt of hurt slid through her and then she burned. Her skin was on fire, scorching under the heat of their touch. Sensations bombarded her, emotions rioting and pinging around her body. Emotions—hers or theirs?—slammed into her, one upon on another upon another.

Want.

Need.

Possessiveness.

Domination.

Love.

The love bit definitely belonged to her. But some of the other feelings…

Agony possessed her and she gasped, the ache snatching away the lingering pleasure of her release. She jerked and twisted, fighting against the throbbing that plagued her.

Whitney’s skin stretched and tightened, as if the air sucked every hint of moisture from her. With the next wave of agonizing pain, she wrenched from their grasp and fell to her knees. Her heart thundered and her lungs heaved with the effort of simply pulling air into her body.

It hit her again, twining around every nerve ending and squeezing until her vision greyed. The pain intensified, the feeling of a thousand snakes pricking and gouging her skin overwhelming her while the light in the room faded further.

The greatest orgasm of her life and it was gonna kill her. As soon as she was done dying, she was so gonna open a can of Wickham whoop-ass on those wolves.

*

Emmett’s heart stopped when Whitney’s knees hit the ground and it shattered when she crumpled to the plush carpet. He flew to her side, wolf and magic granting him the ability to catch her before more than her hands touched the ground.

The arousal and feral need for her had been replaced by fear the moment her first cry of pain hit the air. That sound was immediately followed by unseen fists pummeling him with her agony.

He gripped her arms, turning her and then cradling her to his chest. Her body was hot, scorching and burning him with the heat. Her skin bubbled and stretched, inflating and then sinking back into place with an ever-increasing pace. She whimpered and moaned, twitching and jerking against his hold but he held her still.

“Levy?” He didn’t hold back the fear in his voice.

“Fuck. I don’t know, man.” His partner’s hands hovered just above her, the same worry tinging his words.

The temperature of her skin grew, increasing with every rapid beat of her heart. The tempo of her breathing doubled. Moments ago, he would have taken pleasure in the way her breasts bounced with each inhale. Now he dreaded what was to come.

Emmett’s wolf alternated between triumph and worry, howling and growling in equal measure. It urged him toward joy at her… transition? The magic—the
other
—pushed the same emotion forward. Possessiveness filled him. She was his. Theirs. No one could part them after the afternoon’s events. The wolf and the
other
were confident in that fact.

Whitney arched and struggled against his hold, but he didn’t relent. Not when her tiny, human nails dug into his flesh. Or when his skin burned so hot it charred.

“What the fuck?” Levy jumped to assist him; his friend’s hands gripping Whitney’s legs and ceasing her struggles. “We need help, man.”

No. No, they didn’t. Emmett shook his head. “No. It’s… It’s almost over.”

Whatever “it” was. The
other
part of him, his magic, was sure the end was near.

Emotions battered him. His. Levy’s. Whitney’s?

No, sensing other’s feelings wasn’t one of his gifts. Yet hadn’t he felt her earlier?

Her agony plowed into him with every hummingbird-fast beat of her heart and anger assaulted him each time her muscles twitched. Attraction, desire, affection akin to love, poured forward in tsunami-like waves. They had to come from her, especially that last emotion. He’d never allow his heart to venture there. Not with the laws governing Wardens. Never.

The air surrounding them crackled, drying and sharpening as if he and Levy called on their magic. But they weren’t. Who was?

“Levy?” He couldn’t afford to split his attention between the person gathering all their power and Whitney.

“On it.” His friend’s hands remained in place, and Levy closed his eyes, casting his powerful net and hunting for the stranger draining them.

Whitney jerked and cried out, back bowed. Her mouth stretched wide, and the breath in her lungs stilled, a scream bursting from her lips.

“Oh fuck.” Levy’s voice was barely audible.

Her muscles tightened and stretched farther.

“Oh fuck. It’s her.” Awe and fear filled his partner’s words. “It’s Whitney.”

“Wha—” Emmett didn’t get a chance to finish his question or process the fact a human woman was syphoning their power.

A pulse of magic larger and stronger than anything he’d ever experienced pushed from the beautiful woman in his arms. It flowed through her; it
was
her. The skin that’d burned and bubbled like molten fire now smoothed and glowed like the full moon. It throbbed with power similar to his and Levy’s yet so very, very different.

It gathered within her, and his body recognized the increasing mass. Beneath his gaze, it slithered under her skin, pressing against the now-translucent barrier. In its wake, symbols formed, twining twirls decorated her arms, shoulders, and chest then on to her legs. He had no doubt they appeared below her clothing, as well.

“What the fuck did we do?” Emmett barely passed the words between his lips.

A glass-shattering scream rent the air, destroying the strained quiet of moments before. Immediately on the heels of the echoing strains of her roar, the room filled with a blinding white light. His vision was clouded by the glow, searing in its intensity, and he blinked past the tears filling his eyes.