by Dawn Forrest
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” His voice was cold, clear, and deadly serious. “Yuri, Vladimir, relax. Your mate is outside, and she is here for you of her own accord. You will see her in a moment, but there are some things you should know if you want this mating to go smoothly.”
They growled at him menacingly, and it was starting to get his hackles up. He reminded himself that they were strong Alphas, unused to taking orders, and the mating fever was upon them. He made a monumental effort to push his beast down, because he knew for certain that, if he lost control now, he would kill them and go after her.
“You don’t want to mess this up. I’m wearing nose plugs because she’s outside waiting for you, and I’m sure you can scent her.”
The twins’ nostrils flared, and the bulges in their trousers grew implausibly bigger. Yep, they could smell her all right.
“How it goes today will set the tone for the future. Please listen to what I have to say, because Joanna has asked me to speak to you. Believe me, there are many other things that I would much rather be doing. Listen for her.” He spoke evenly, as if inviting them to tea rather than preparing to fight if necessary.
He hoped that the twin werewolves before him, who were battling with their lust, instinct, and desire, understood what he was doing. They didn’t know anything about her and would be wise to follow his lead. Don’t make me tranq’ you again, boys. The gun nestled comfortably in the holster he was wearing inside his coat. It was more for their protection than his. Better that than to rip their throats out.
They continued to glare at him for a few seconds more, and then Yuri slowly inclined his head and in a strangled voice said, “Da.”
Smart boy.
* * * *
Joanna waited for Hawke to reappear. She took the time to observe what she could from her position, work out the best escape route, assess where a possible ambush might occur. The habits that her mother had drilled into her were hard to ignore, especially here, in the werewolves’ den.
He had been gone for fifteen minutes, and she was starting to get impatient. She wanted to see her mates, to throw off this horrible clawing anxiety that she’d felt since they’d been taken away. It was like suffering from acute withdrawal symptoms. Now that she’d sensed them, she needed them to relieve this aching tension building in her body. Any sane woman would be reconsidering her position, any sane virgin would be hopping on her bike and zooming off into the sunset. The irony of her situation mocked her. She was a nervous virgin who was about to get laid by not one but two dominant, sexy-as-hell werewolves.
The door of the cabin opened inward, and her new Alpha—soon to be her old Alpha—came out. Behind him stood the two most attractive men she had ever seen. They were still dressed in their black leather pants but had taken off their jackets to reveal snug black T-shirts that did nothing to hide their lean, muscular torsos. One man had his very long, very straight white hair tied back by a simple leather cord. The other man’s was loose, and it hung like a fine stallion’s mane past his shoulders and down to his waist. They were tall, a good few inches over Hawke, and he was around six three or four. Good Lord, they looked splendid. A single cohesive thought looped around her mind. Mine.
The twins stayed by the door, watching her intently. Hawke walked slowly to her, ignoring their low rumbling growls.
“You sure?” he asked.
She understood that this was the point of no return. She could feel the heat of their eyes upon her and felt certain that her body was reacting to them already. Every darn male and his brother within a twenty-mile radius would smell her arousal at this rate. It was time to do something about it.
“Yes.”
Hawke straightened up and looked serious. With a nasal voice he said, “Go now to your dwelling place to enter into the days of your togetherness, and may your days be good and long upon the earth.” He quickly explained, “That’s part of an Apache wedding blessing, but it seems appropriate. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry to be abrupt, but I’ve got to go, the Russians are anxious and your scent is…it’s getting to be too much.”
Well, as far as spiritual sentiment was concerned it was lovely, but it would have been better delivered without nose plugs. She appreciated it all the same.
Hawke didn’t say anything else because he couldn’t. He was holding his breath. He just shrugged with a grimace and hightailed it away from her, leaving her standing in front of the cabin and two very aroused male werewolves. She didn’t need her perfect vision to see the erections they were sporting within their pants—they could be spotted on Google Earth. They stayed near the doorway of the cabin, watching her the way a cat watches another on its territory, deceptively still and relaxed yet ready to pounce.
She took a deep breath to calm herself, and their combined scents hit her like a tsunami, swamping her thoughts and senses in a deluge of desire. In the lust-clouded recesses of her mind she thought that she should at least talk to them, make some sort of intellectual connection, but it was completely overridden by the biological imperative to mate. Everything else was secondary.
In response to them, her scent had reached epic proportions. The men remained still and appeared calm, but the truth was belied by the creaking, splintering sound of the wooden doorframe where one man gripped it. They were like a force of nature, a riptide surging over her and pulling her in deep. She dropped her bag and walked toward them.
* * * *
Yuri Volkov, famous for his unemotional, disciplined demeanor, a hard man from a harsh environment, was having great difficulty controlling himself. It was all he could do to remember Hawke’s words about the gaps in her knowledge of their ways and the fact that she was a virgin. But for that, he would already be balls-deep inside his hot mate, and she would be bent over her bike screaming her pleasure. He glanced at his brother and at the gouges that his claws had made in the doorframe and knew he was fighting the same battle.
He could barely believe his eyes when she dropped her bag and began a slow, sensuous walk toward them. Any other creature with an ounce of survival instinct would be fleeing, but she was their mate and an altogether different instinct was at work. He would never forget this moment as she first came to them, clad in white leather that contrasted with her golden skin and long, dark hair tied in a thick braid that hung down her back. The image would be branded into his mind for the rest of his life. The Fates be praised, because she was a beautiful female werewolf and built for some serious Were loving. That stunt maneuver she had pulled in front of the house, the way she handled her bike, and the leap up the stairs, showed that she was fast, agile, strong, robust, and therefore perfect for sex with them.
Both he and Vlad usually had more than one woman at a time, to ensure their satisfaction while not hurting the women involved, and even then he had to rein back his inner beast. Although they sometimes went for long periods without female company, he had not ever shared less than three at a time, never mind only one woman, with his brother, because that was too much to expect from a single fragile human female. Finding willing women had never been a problem, and they tended to have orgies on an epic scale. The night before last, they had slaked their lust with five human women, but from now on all that would be a thing of the past. They would never want or need anyone else again. He hadn’t heard of Alphas sharing a mate before, but it felt absolutely right.
He knew that she had ridden her bike to the cabin because she was more comfortable having her own means of coming and going, and of escaping them. That thought had him growling because he didn’t want to be parted from her ever again. He had watched her through the window as she surveyed the area, looking for possible threats and escape routes, and he thought about what Hawke had told him. It brought out the protective instincts in him. They would look after her safety from now on, and his precious mate would not need to worry about that ever again.
Thankfully Hawke had moved them to a more isolated location within the forest on the Pack’s estate, a reasonable di
stance from the main house. He was grateful to the Prime Alpha as it gave them some privacy for their first mating. Werewolves were seldom bothered about such things, but she was special, and until they were permanently bound it was possible that another male—one with suicidal tendencies—might be tempted to take a chance with her.
The cabin was well appointed and very comfortable, with all the conveniences of a luxury guesthouse. Apart from a separate bathroom, it was all open plan. The spacious living, kitchen, dining, and sleeping area was tastefully decorated and, most importantly, boasted a super-king-sized bed, big enough for three.
He tried to calm his emotions. It was always like this in the beginning for mates. How many times had he scoffed at friends and Pack members who had become singularly focused on their new mate? He had a feeling he was going to rue those times, and he didn’t care one iota.
She stood in front of him and looked directly into his eyes, holding his gaze where many others could not. It sent his heart into overdrive, and he took a deep breath. He inhaled her glorious scent and visibly trembled at the recognition that here was his purpose for being. He only had to hold out fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and then he would be blissfully buried deep inside her.
Fuck, I really need to calm myself. He began mentally reciting the names and dates of Russian kings, queens, and communist leaders, anything boring to try to quell the need within him that was so close to rupturing his control. She is a virgin. Hold onto that thought. But perversely it just made him burn for her more. She had kept herself for them, and they had searched longer than one average human lifetime for her. He wanted her so much that it hurt. He wanted to taste every part of her, to bathe in her intoxicating fragrance, to feel her body on him, around him, to be inside her. Her scent was stronger now in response to them. It stretched his control, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. So close, she was so close he could just lean down and taste her lips.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. This has never happened before.” The tone and resonance of her voice sensuously stroked his libido.
At first he didn’t understand, and then it clicked that she was apologizing for her strong scent, even though it was an involuntary physical action by her body in response to them, her mates.
“It is natural and much wonderful and not to be making apology for, my mate,” he said as softly as his passion-roughened voice would allow and stepped forward to gently take her hand in his.
There was an initial spark on contact, like a circuit suddenly completed. Oh God, he was about to lose it big time if he didn’t focus hard. He needed to get the formalities over with quickly.
“I am Yuri Volkov, and this is my brother Vladimir. We are Alphas of the Siberian Pack, sons of Dmitri Volkov, Prime of the Russian Packs and Alpha of the Moscow Pack, and Eva Loge, formerly of the Viking Pack. We are very much pleased to be meeting you, our true-mate, Joanna Akara.”
* * * *
His voice set her heart racing, but his touch made her want to weep for the reverent tenderness of it. They both bowed formally to her. Yuri softly, carefully kissed her hand, and then without letting go he moved aside to let Vladimir do the same with her other hand. Vladimir kissed her knuckles. His lips lingered on the backs of her fingers, and he lightly, seductively, scraped his sharp teeth over her skin. Holy cow, if a simple brief touch of their lips to her hand caused such warmth and excitement to flood over and through her, what would lingering contact of a more intimate nature do? She had the thrilling thought that she might not survive it.
“Please, be calling me Vlad.” He spoke softly, but his deep tones resonated with desire.
Growl for me, big boy, and make me purr. His voice led her thoughts toward all sorts of sexy fantasies, and she took a moment to speak.
“You look identical, although there is a faint difference in your scent.” She paused and sniffed, looking puzzled. “No, not your scent exactly, something else, more like your…essence.” She shrugged because she couldn’t quite explain it.
They both gave her a devastating smile and did not release her hands from theirs.
“No one is being able to tell us apart before, Joanna.” Vlad emphasized the syllables of her name as if all the sounds of that one word were precious. Even his dodgy grammar was sexy.
She observed that they were like piano keys, dressed in black and white leathers and with opposite hair coloring, yet they belonged together. How strange it was to be so sure of something and someone that she’d only just met.
“I–I have no experience of Pack life, and until yesterday I had never spoken to another Were other than my mother. What happens now?”
She really was at a loss as to how to proceed. All she wanted to do was indulge herself in her mates, to feel them everywhere, to take them inside, to consume and be consumed.
“Do not worry, my mate, we will give you very much good fucking.” Vlad purred the words.
Joanna took a sharp intake of breath and creamed herself while Yuri glared at his brother.
“He means that we will begin mating courtship and wish to love you, Joanna. Vlad is not so good with English,” Yuri quickly explained.
Joanna wasn’t convinced that Vlad hadn’t said exactly what he meant. It was confirmed when he deliberately sniffed the air and zeroed in his gaze on her crotch. He slowly raked his gorgeous, greedy, gray eyes up and down her body before staring into hers and murmuring, “Yes, much fucking love.”
Oh God. With the promise of near-future embarrassment, a damp patch was forming in her panties. Her private parts tingled, with the understanding that they wouldn’t be private much longer.
“I–I think I’d like that.” She could think of nothing else that would relieve the tight, throbbing need now centered in her aching pelvic core.
Vlad suddenly swept her off her feet and carried her inside. When she heard the door click shut she tensed with anxiety. She now found herself on the wrong side of a sprung trap.
“Do not be afraid,” Vlad murmured against her hair.
Jo knew that she should be taking notice of the room, the doors, the windows, where the kitchen and the knife block were, but she didn’t want to move her face that was snuggled up to Vlad’s neck. He smelt of fertile desire, sex, male, and dominant beast, yet also of belonging, security, and home. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way she would be able to resist them on the full moon, and she simply did not want to resist them now.
Vlad spoke quickly in Russian to Yuri, and she could feel the rumble in his chest against her breasts. In response her pelvic muscles clenched again, and she became even slicker between the thighs. She felt a large hand stroke her hair as Vlad kissed the top of her head. She raised her face to look at the man holding her in his arms as if she, who stood at six foot, were some petite damsel in distress. Well, she was darned distressed all right, with a desperate need to get naked with these two.
For a moment there was a still silence. They were like racers on the blocks waiting, anticipating the starter gun. Then she reached up and clasped her arms around Vlad’s neck.
“I am not afraid. I realize now that I’ve waited for you.”
She pulled his face to hers and, aroused beyond endurance, she poured herself into that first kiss, brazenly announcing her lust and intent. She’d had very little experience, but it didn’t matter because instinct and desire drove her to one quintessential, potent, and persistent need. Take me, take me.
Her soft lips molded perfectly with his as he accepted her clear invitation. Vlad growled low and deep as he swept his tongue inside her mouth. The aphrodisiac in their saliva combined and was absorbed. Soon their tongues tangled like copulating cobras while they writhed against each other.
When they eventually broke apart, strong arms snatched her away, and she found herself crushed up against Yuri. There was wildness in his eyes as he glared down at her with a lust-carved expression. Her whole being craved to get closer to her men. She knew it and they knew it. This ti
me Yuri growled low and deep, and she nearly whimpered in response. She had to lock down the primitive urge to go to her hands and knees and present herself when she heard them growl. Yuri kissed her, and reality dropped away, leaving her falling fast without a chute.
* * * *
Yuri maneuvered her farther into the room and toward the bed as he kissed her lips and ran his hands over her firm body. He heard a heavy thud and saw that Vlad had shed his T-shirt, undone the top button of his leather pants, and was pulling off his boots and socks. His brother was a clever one, giving himself a head start. He hastily unzipped her jacket and shoved it off to reveal a tight little white vest and, dear God, there was no bra underneath. Her nipples were poking through the thin fabric, targeting and goading him to just rip it off.
He heard fabric tearing and thought for a moment that he’d acted on the impulse but then realized that her hands were on his flesh and his T-shirt had fallen away in shreds. His mate was hot for him, and that snapped his control. The feral snarl that left his throat was unlike any he’d made before. It was the sound of desperate, sexual need.
In seconds she was stripped naked and on the bed. Yuri wasn’t wasting a moment. He hadn’t even taken his boots and pants off, but he wanted to be the first in her virgin pussy. Vlad was a consummate ass man, and he would be the first to take her there.
He was trying to go slower, but his beast was dictating the pace, and when he looked at Joanna he thought that it was true for her, too. He ran his hand up her leg to the warm apex of her thighs. She was slick and ready for him. He consoled himself with the fact that he would later spend many hours making love and pleasuring her, but right now what they both needed was to mate in the most elemental way, for him to slid inside and mark her as his own.
He was about to release his straining cock from his pants and move between her thighs when she did something that astounded him. She flipped herself over, went on all fours, and presented herself to him, knees spread wide, resting low on her forearms with her ass held high. Perfect. Instinct was directing the moves and, like a choreographed dance, they all knew their parts.
