Ultimate Alpha Boxed Set: A BBW and Wolf Shifter collection

by Bolryder, Terry

  “But it’ll stifle your pheromones.”

  “You had no problem with that before.”

  He shakes his head. “I have no problem with this now, except that it’s extremely selfish. What if we do this and you don’t find a mate?”

  “You think that’s more selfish than making me stay here with a potential murderer?”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  I throw up my hands and give up. “Fine. Fine, Lindon. I’ll just go pick one now and save us both the trouble.” I start back toward the door and he grabs my hand and whirls me back against him.

  “Damnit, Misty, why do you have to make everything so hard?” And then his lips crush over mine.

  It’s everything I knew it would be, everything I wanted. Every time I kiss him, the sensation is stronger. Like I’m falling in love with him. Like I’m already in love.

  Like there’s something between us, intangible and yet saturating the air.

  Like we were meant to be.

  I’d say I was just being a silly, romantic fool, but I never have been and I don’t see why I would start now. I’ve always been a pragmatist, and it wasn’t practical to daydream or see things as other than reality presented them.

  But there’s nothing in the world as right as his lips on mine, the warm, perfect feel of them. The way his hands move over my body, caressing my curves lightly. The way my knees are buckling, and he knows this without me saying anything and scoops me up and carries me to the bed without a word.

  He sets me down gently and just stands there for a moment, watching me with a slightly open mouth and glowing golden eyes. As if the sight in front of him is everything he’s ever wanted and yet completely baffling at the same time.

  How I love this confused, conflicted man. I’d take a tiny portion with him rather than a feast with anyone else.

  It’s time to be honest with myself that no one else will do, so I’ll take what I can from him. And live with that afterward.

  I just have to hope he can wake up from the past enough to see what he has in the present. I set him on fire. I know I do.

  I can see the hesitation in his eyes as he looks me over, and then he runs his tongue slowly along his lower lip and I know I’ve won. Again.

  He lunges smoothly forward, onto the bed, covering me with his huge body and making me feel small under his predatory gaze. He smooths my curls back from my face and runs a finger along my hairline and down my shoulder.

  “Are you sure, Misty?” he asks, toying with a curl again. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure it can be anything?”

  “I’ll let you know as we go,” I say, grinning up at him.

  “Baby,” he says, moving down my body and taking the hem of my tank top in his teeth. “Once I start, you won’t be able to think.”

  “Prove it,” I say.

  With a feral growl, he lifts the tank easily away and then pulls it over my head. Then he reaches behind me and his fingers tickle as they undo the clasp at the back of my sports bras. “Two bras?” he asks. “You are huge.”

  My eyes widen in offense. “Excuse me?”

  But I can’t be mad long because my breasts come free of the constraints and fall into his strong but gentle hands.

  “Perfectly huge,” he says, kneading them gently in a way that feels amazing after being strapped down for so long. “Poor babies,” he says, rubbing a thumb lightly over the nipples. “All trapped like that.”

  I laugh and then gasp as he takes one in his mouth and sucks lightly, then a little harder as his eyes darken and fix on mine. My mouth opens in an O shape and then I arch back, giving myself up fully to the sensation.

  I know he’s watching me. I can feel his hot gaze like sunshine on my body.

  That’s what Lindon is, sunlight. Warm and bright and necessary, but dangerous as well.

  He continues to work on my breast as one hand kneads my side and then moves down between my legs, over my sports wear. I gasp at the double sensation and move against him, but he just teases me with a light touch and then moves his hand back to the other breast, tweaking the nipple lightly.

  “Slowly,” he says in a low voice, before flicking his tongue over my swollen, aching nipple. “If I’m going to only have you once, I’m going to take you slowly.”

  I groan. If only he could take me all the way. Even if he didn’t want to live with me as a mate, I feel like it’d be worth it just for that one time. I could go back to living alone afterward. After all, I’ve done it for years.

  I’ve always been alone in some ways. But at least I’d have that memory.

  But then he tweaks my nipple again and I feel myself cascade into an orgasm, moaning and closing my eyes as sparks explode throughout my body and waves of sensation flow through me, stifled only slightly by the painful thoughts of a moment ago.

  I open my eyes to see him staring down at me, a mixture of hunger and reverence in his eyes. If only I could keep this man.

  Chapter 3

  His hand shoves between my legs as he takes my lips, stifling my gasps as he moves against me, rubbing over my center deftly and capturing my cries with his mouth. He knows exactly how to please me, takes control of my body effortlessly. It’s the best sexual experience of my life and yet I get the feeling that it’s only just starting.

  If only I could make it go on forever.

  A second orgasm hits as he presses his hand against me, precise and urgent, and I rear up and wrap my arms tight around him as I ride out the intensity. His arms come around me and he holds me like I’m precious. The air smells like heaven. There’s no way to describe it. It’s just intense, and us, and him, and something sweet and other worldly and heady all at once.

  “You okay?” he asks, rubbing his hand down my back as I shiver against him.

  “I…yeah, obviously. It’s just, I don’t know how you do it.”

  “How I do what?” he asks, lowering me back down to the bed and placing a hand on either side of my head.

  “Make everything feel so good,” I say, reaching up to touch the tips of his hair that are pointing in all directions at the front of his head. “I mean, I haven’t known you long. Should it really feel like this?”

  “Maybe it’s because I’m an alpha,” he says quietly, eyeing my body like he wants to stop talking and keep going.

  I don’t think that’s it, but I’m not going to argue. I think it’s that I care for him, and he cares for me. Each touch is amazing, and I want more of them.

  His eyes run over my face, drop to my breasts, which are swollen and wet at the tips, gorgeously pointed up at him. He runs his hands down my waist and then pulls my bottoms off, leaving me in my underwear. A silky, black bikini. I see approval in his gilded eyes as he hooks a finger under the waist and pulls them off in one smooth motion.

  Then I’m bared to his gaze. I guess when he does something he goes all the way.

  He runs his hands over my thighs as he moves down the bed, eyes locked on mine as he lowers his head. When I realize his intent I try to sit up, eyes wide.

  “Wait, I was just working out. Let me shower.”

  He shakes his head, planting one huge hand on my stomach to push me back down. “Let me taste you,” he says quietly, eyes locked on mine like he’s waiting for consent.

  “Oh fine,” I say, slumping back against the pillow as he trails a finger teasingly down the inside of my thigh, touching me where I’m wet and ready. I’m self conscious about myself down there, but looking at his eager, turned on expression, I feel reassured that I’m beautiful, that there’s nothing gross about me.

  Then his tongue hits me, one long, rough stroke up the center of me, like tiny bolts of lightning straight through me. I gasp and arch back, saying his name, and he focuses in, tongue swirling in circles around that most sensitive part of me. He may not be claiming me in a technical sense, but he’s claiming me in another way, because after feeling like this, I don’t know how I can ever accept anyone else.

  He reac
hes up to hold my breasts as his tongue continues to stroke and work wickedly against me. I squirm against him, twisting my hands in the sheets next to me, wondering what part I’m supposed to play in this. Just lie there while he makes me feel amazing? That doesn’t seem fair. Given, I’m a virgin, but this doesn’t seem like a typical sexual encounter.

  “Lindon,” I say, caught up in a haze of pleasure and wanting to just know that he’s there.

  “I’m here,” he says, and then he flicks his tongue against me and I arch up as the combination of the touch and his sexy voice bring me to the edge again and push me right over, falling, plummeting through pleasure so strong it’s almost frightening.

  I call his name, over and over, and he keeps his hands on my breasts, his mouth kissing me as I come against him, tensing over and over.

  “What about you?” I gasp out, when I can finally speak again.

  He answers by continuing to work his tongue over me, a devious grin on his face.

  I twist my fingers into the sheets and lose the ability to think as he plays my body expertly. How can a man with so much to offer a woman really be done with them forever? It’s a crime against humanity. Wolfmanity. Oh gosh, here comes another one…

  I scream out as I crest another wave, no longer able to care if other men in the house hear me. It’s so intense, I don’t know how many more I can have.

  I reach for him, for the top of his shorts, hoping to pull them down. I want to see him, need to see him. His face is flushed as he sits up and wipes his mouth on the back of his arm, eyeing me with triumph and hunger. I breathe heavily, and he watches my breasts move with the action.

  The hunger in his eyes is insatiable. An appetite he keeps locked so far down that even he probably isn’t aware of how strong it is.

  Even in this moment.

  He’s about to lower himself down again, running his hands all the way down my body from my breasts to my thighs to the tips of my toes, but just before he’s about to take me in his mouth again, a loud knock sounds on the door.

  I look up at him, wide-eyed. His expression hardens. He looks at the door and I can tell he’s as irritated as I am that there’s a world out there interfering in what we do. Encroaching.

  Even if they have a right to.

  We stay locked in a silent staring contest, lust in the air around us, and something else in the air, something stronger. Telling us to go further, to not stop now.

  I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me. He resists slightly and then rests his head against my shoulder, his chest against my breasts, which cushion him softly. He lets out a low growl and relaxes against me only for a moment, and then sits up, still straddling me, and looks over at the door.

  It thumps loudly again. They call our names.

  All the men that actually want me. One who might want to kill me.

  And the only one I want, right here in my arms, exhausting me with pleasure, and looking right now like he’s going to reluctantly walk away from it all and let me go back to them.

  My heart cracks in two just in anticipation of it.

  “I’m sorry, Misty. I really do wish…” He trails off, propping himself on his hands and looking down.

  “Wish what?” I ask, trying to reach up to him, but he turns away. “Why can’t you have something if you wish for it?”

  “I’m just…” He won’t meet my eyes. “I’m just not brave enough.”

  That shocks me to silence. Not brave enough? What does that have to do with anything?

  “Ava… I guess I cared so much about her. I told myself we were fated. It was easier to believe that she was the only one so I never had to think about feeling that again.”

  “Feeling what?”

  “Like you love someone so much that you’ve given them a piece of you, and they take it with you when they die. I wanted to believe that as horrible as that was, it was at least the last time it could happen. I used it as an excuse, I see that now. Because I didn’t want to fall again. Females are too fragile, like my mother and Ava.”

  “Not all females,” I say, sitting up and pulling myself back against the headboard, so that he’s over my lower legs rather than my hips. This isn’t a conversation I can have on my back.

  He puts a hand up and clenches his hair in his fingers and then drags his hand down over to cover his face, head lowered. A position that breaks me just by looking at it.

  “It doesn’t always have to hurt like that, Lindon. And it’s worth it. You might be able to avoid feeling bad, but you’d also avoid feeling good,” I say quietly.

  “I told you,” he says in a low, rough voice. “I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry, Misty. You’d be better off with one of them.” He rolls easily off of me, pauses at the end of the bed and then stands and walks away. He stops at the closet with his back toward me. “You should probably go now.”

  I hesitate. So confused. It seems like we got so close. It seems like he realized something important. I thought that meant that maybe we had a chance.

  At least now we both know it’s not about Ava being his fated mate.

  “I can wait,” I say. “I know you’re dealing with a lot.”

  “Wasn’t that enough payment?” he snaps. “To pay for you staying another week, I mean?” he says coldly.

  My whole body goes numb at the hurt that causes. It just shuts down and refuses to feel the force of that cruel blow. I know he doesn’t even fully mean that horrible statement. He can’t, I saw the look in his eyes and the fervor in his fingers as he made love to me.

  I don’t believe him, but it still hurts that he would even say something like that. That he would try to hurt me like that, just so he didn’t have to deal with his shit.

  “You’re an awful person, Lindon,” I say in a low voice, trying to keep it from cracking. I hastily pull my clothing on and head for the door, not caring who’s behind it.

  “Misty, wait,” he says, turning with stricken eyes, like he wants to take something back.

  I wait, hope flickering in me like a tiny birthday candle flame.

  “You aren’t leaving, right?” he asks.

  The flame goes out, like someone just licked their fingers and smothered it. He just wants me to keep my deal. He’s messed up, and there’s nothing he can do about it, and I need to get away from him before he can hurt me more.

  I could have stood one night with him, if it could have ended with kindness. But to throw the deal in my face, to act like it meant nothing, like it was a transaction…

  Hell, maybe it was…

  Suddenly I just need to be away from him. Maybe forever. I ignore him and open the door and walk out to see a group of the guys. Their faces blur, angry words flying around me as I try to push through them. They can smell it, I know it. Smell him on me and the desperation I had for him.

  But as I’m jostled and bumped and overwhelmed by the noise of the crowd, a strong arm reaches in and pulls me free and against a warm chest. Across from me, Lindon comes to the door and the men rush to him with their questions and demands.

  They needn’t worry, I’m not claimed. Lindon wouldn’t do anything that permanent.

  I look up into the face of the man who pulled me aside and see Lock’s warm, amber brown eyes looking down into mine with sincere concern. He puts a finger to his lips to motion for me to be quiet and pulls me to a nearby room while the others are distracted by yelling at Lindon. We both slip in and he closes the door quietly behind us.

  I drop to my knees on the ground and put my hands down to prop myself up. Then I just stay there for a moment, still letting the arousal ebb away, still fighting off the pain of Lindon’s words. That he can have me, but he won’t. That he was just fulfilling a deal.

  Tears fall and quiet sobs escape me. I’m not a crier. I hardly cried when I lost my adoptive parents. If you don’t show pain, it doesn’t exist, right? I stay there, crying, and Lock stays silent behind me.

  Giving me privacy.

  I
need to feel alone right now, because that’s what I am. In reality there’s no one I can trust. I let the tears fall as long as they need to, and then wipe my eyes, push myself to a standing position and walk to the desk so I can sit in the chair. I fold my arms on the desk and slump over them.

  I hear Lock’s footsteps cross over to me. Can feel his presence next to me. I’m too embarrassed to look up at him.

  “Did he claim you?” he asks quietly, something in his voice that I don’t understand.

  I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. The ass.”

  “Ah, but you wanted him to,” he says. “Didn’t you?”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I was just confused.” But I know that’s a lie. I wanted him to. It somehow felt like everything would work out after that if he just had. If he’d just had the guts. But then that stupid knock on the door brought him back to reality, reminded him of the situation. Turned his brain back on.

  Someone should tell him that sometimes not thinking is the better option. He’s the one who grew up knowing he was a wolf, shouldn’t he understand animal instincts?

  Lock crouches beside me and gently sneaks a finger under my chin to tilt my face up, forcing me to look at him with tear-stained eyes. His gaze is gentle. “Tell me what I can do to help. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  I can hear noises from the hallway. People arguing. Maybe they’ll find us soon. I can’t face any of them. I eye Lock. He has always been there for me, since the very start. I kind of just want to hide in here with him.

  “You want to just go?” he asks. “Get out of here for a minute? Go for a ride on my bike until everyone calms down?”

  I blink at him and then nod. That sounds good. I’m being a coward and running, but I just can’t face them all right now. Not while I’m hurt and weak. “Okay, but we can’t stay long.”

  He nods. “Sure. Just until they work things out with Lindon.”

  “Are they going to hurt him?” I ask quietly, a sick feeling in my chest at the thought. Why do I have to care about him when he doesn’t feel the same for me? I kind of understand what he means about not wanting to be in love because it can end so badly. But I’m the one who keeps being willing to get hurt with him. He isn’t willing to put himself out there at all.