Tempted by the Pack

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Tempted by the Pack Page 11

by Anne Marsh


  Need.

  What they wanted from her was far more than sex.

  She pulled Rafer towards her and he came, his lips covering hers as the weight of his body eased her down into the mattress. Fire streaked through her pussy, and she arched up, trying to get closer. His lips parted hers so his tongue could sweep inside. Yes.

  Rafer rolled to his side, and other hands reached for her knees, pushing her thighs slowly apart. There was all the time in the world to protest, but those calloused male hands were deliberately gentle. Seeking to please. Stroking beneath the edge of her towel. She stilled, then relaxed. She didn’t have to stop kissing Rafer—these new hands were just something more.

  She felt rather than saw the twins, Dre and Landry, move onto the bed, wrapping themselves around her. Parting her knees farther. Rafer pulled back. Jackson’s sure hands lifted her, tucking her carefully on his lap. Her arousal grew, the anticipation building. She was going to sleep with these men who shapeshifted into wolves. She was going to have them, enjoy their sensual teasing and their welcome strength. No matter what happened to her farm, they’d be there for her. Welcoming her. Waiting for her.

  Heat blossomed inside her. She belonged with them and they with her. And yet she still couldn’t stop the blush heating her face.

  Dag’s sexy chuckle had her moaning. “She blushes, boys.”

  Dre gave a growl of satisfaction, his large hands wrapping around her shoulders, rubbing. Soothing. She ducked her head, laying her cheek against that hand so his strong fingers could stroke the skin there.

  “Whatever you want,” Rafer said, his thumb caressing a path over her lips. “You don’ do anything you don’ want to do.”

  “True that,” Dag promised hoarsely. “None of us, sha, are goin’ to do anything you don’ want.”

  The intimacy of the Pack was both staggering—and shattering. These big, tough fighters could more than hold their own in any fight, but they’d reined in that brute strength. Were focused on nothing and no one but her.

  “Lose the towel for us, baby.” Heat lit Rafer’s gaze. “Let us see you.”

  “You strip, too.” If she was getting naked here, they did, too. “All of you,” she ordered.

  She leaned back in Jackson’s embrace, curled up against his denim-covered legs and the mound of pillows heaped by the massive headboard. Boots hit the floor and T-shirts were stripped off with brutal efficiency. Fingers unbuttoned and shucked off jeans.

  Her breath caught.

  “You like what you see?” Dag flicked open the final buttons of his jeans.

  They were all different, but large. Hard. Those thick erections were a wicked, wicked promise she had every intention of cashing in on.

  “Yes.” She blinked, surprised. She did. She was wet and growing wetter. Decided, she tugged the towel away.

  Dag’s face mirrored her own surprise. “Well, hell, Rafer. Maybe she is goin’ to do this. You think you can take this many wolves, baby?”

  Part of her recognized instinctively that this man was desperate for touch, feared she’d tease and then pull away. He’d push and he’d challenge, but he wouldn’t force the issue. Wouldn’t force her to take him. That was up to her.

  “Come over here.” She hooked her finger in the open waistband of his jeans, drawing him nearer. He came, and she shoved the denim down, her fingers brushing his straining erection.

  “Be sure,” he growled, pushing off his jeans.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” she said sweetly. “I’m certain I can handle this.”

  Rafer gathered her into his arms. “We go nice and slow, chère. You don’ like something, you tell us, okay?” His lips found the vulnerable skin of her throat.

  “If I don’t like something, you’re not doing it right.” Her head fell to the side, baring her neck in a gesture of submission. And challenge.

  “You got that right, chère.” He tasted her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his hard body into hers. Dag slid closer, his mouth nuzzling her ear.

  Dre’s arms anchored her shoulders, sweeping beneath her knees to lift her effortlessly. The mattress gave softly beneath her back as Dag and Rafer followed. The bed was familiar, even if the men filling it were not. She’d fantasized plenty here—and now those fantasies were coming to life. Rafer’s big, hard body pushed her down, then eased off. His mouth swallowed her sound of protest, his tongue pressing her lips apart and sweeping inside as his big hands cupped her face, holding her still for a possessive kiss.

  She wrapped a leg around Rafer’s hip, rocking against him. The hard ridge pressing into her pussy and the teasing friction of his thigh had her breath coming in pants.

  The mattress dipped as more of their Pack joined them. Reaching out a hand, she found and cradled Rafer’s balls. The heavy sack was full and sensitive where she held him.

  “Christ,” he groaned.

  Strong male hands stroked her thighs, calloused fingers sure and knowing. Working together.

  Rafer’s mouth traveled down, tasting first the sensitive skin of her collarbone and then the slope of her breasts. Finding her nipples and tonguing them. She needed him. She needed more.

  Dag eased closer, pinning her between two hard bodies. His familiar hands touched her, stroking her as if that soft brush of skin on skin was enough. The Pack’s males pressed against her, legs tangled with hers, hands roaming her waist and sides and breasts. Each caress sent her higher, the hot pleasure spiraling through her.

  Dre found her thigh and moved up, cupping her ass. Tracing the dark crease lightly.

  She knew she should be nervous. She hadn’t done this. Hadn’t dreamed of doing this. But sharing her bed and heart with these other males felt right. All that mattered right now was pleasing and being pleased. Sharing the pleasure and the fiery heat. They took and she gave. She took and they gave.

  The Pack touched her, surrounded her. Big and strong and so very careful. This was supposed to be for them, but they were making it all about her.

  She felt needed. Worshipped.

  “We started this,” Rafer growled against her mouth. “You tell us now, chère, if we can finish this.”

  She wasn’t passive. This wasn’t blind submission on her part. She’d chosen to run, and she’d chosen to open the door to this. “Yes.”

  Turning, she wrapped her hands around the base of Dag’s shift and palmed him firmly. His eyes glowed as he pressed himself into her fingers, fierce and hungry, both the man and beast watching her. Slowly she lowered her head, sucking the tip of him into her mouth.

  “Yeah,” he groaned, guiding her closer still. “Take me, sha. Just like that. Show me how much you want us.”

  She did want him. She wanted all of them, and that was an unexpected pleasure. Finding the sensitive spot beneath the head at the top of his shaft, she licked. Her tongue rubbed, discovering the lush curve of that big head, and she heard his husky groan.

  Long and thick, he filled her and then some. His hands threaded through her hair and pulled her closer. Careful. Tender. When she finally drew back, he let her go, his shaft damp and glistening. She could leave, could get right off this bed right now. But she didn’t want to.

  The twins gently nudged her legs apart. She wasn’t sure whose fingers found her, but arching back into that touch felt so good.

  “She’s so wet.” Rough satisfaction filled Dre’s voice. Other hands caught her thigh, gently drawing her upward, bracing her. Someone parted her soaked folds, lips eating at her, and she cried out. The arousal was agony. Pure, heated pleasure sizzling through her.

  “Are you ready for this? For us?” Rafer asked.

  “God, yes.” She wanted this, wanted them.

  ~~~~

  Lark was here.

  With him.

  With his brothers.

  In their arms and in their bed.

  Her back pushed against his chest, her sweet ass grinding against his cock. She was beautiful. Brown hair tumbled about her shoulders, and arousal pi
nkened her face. When her lashes drifted down, hiding her eyes as she enjoyed their touch, that primal side of him wanted to demand she watch. He wanted to see the pleasure take her just as Dag did.

  This was the fantasy.

  This was the reality, and from the hot feminine cream he scented, she wanted this every bit as much as they did. Her pussy was swollen and needy, begging for their touch.

  His fingers cupped her hips, holding her steady.

  Dag’s hands braced on the bed, his sun-darkened skin a stark contrast against the white cotton. “I’m comin’ in now, sha.”

  “Yes,” she demanded. His chère was all done waiting, and Rafer’s cock jerked at the feminine demand in her voice. “You do that. Now.”

  Dag pushed slowly in, and Rafer held her, his face pressed against her throat where he could catch her low keen of gratification. She was so very hungry for this. For them. Her need fed the erotic hunger burning in him. He’d shocked her and he’d pushed her, but she wanted this too, and there was no ignoring the fierce satisfaction filling him. She’d taken all of them. Accepted them. And her acceptance was a precious gift.

  His cock felt heavy and thick, his balls tight with an agonizing need. He’d never wanted anyone, anything, so much. He could feel her pressed against every inch of him, her body shuddering as Dag pushed carefully into the sweet, hot depths of her pussy. Each brush of her skin against his further sensitized that already too-sensitive part of him. He’d never be close enough.

  Dag’s face was all fierce control, the other male lost in the hot bliss of Lark’s pussy, his fingers clenched in the sheet beside her head as he moved carefully, deliberately.

  Rafer wanted those feelings for Lark.

  He could come like this, sliding his cock against the dark crease of her ass. Sinking just those scant inches into her flesh. But he wanted more. He wanted to lose himself deep inside her, mark her as she’d marked him.

  Dag found a sensual rhythm, pulling out of her tight pussy before easing forward again. Driving her closer and closer to the feverish edge of pleasure and orgasm. And his chère, she liked it all right. She whimpered, her breathing ragged, as she pushed her back into the pillows and Rafer. His hands held her steady for Dag and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so damned beautiful.

  “More,” she demanded throatily, her nails carving crescents into Dag’s shoulders as she hung on to his brother, rode his cock. Dag had her stretched, burning around that large cock working inside her. His brother was enjoying the delicious spasms of Lark’s pussy clenching, working towards her own release.

  Rafer would give her more.

  “How much more?” He whispered the words by her ear. “Dag, he’s workin’ himself deep in your pussy, and Dre and Landry, they got their hands on your breasts. You know where that leaves for me.”

  “Please,” she demanded, and there was nothing shy about her now. “You do it now, Rafer.”

  Good enough for him. Jackson passed him the tube of lube, and Rafer got his hand between them, found the tiny puckered hole, and pushed. She gasped and pushed right back, so he added another finger beside the first, gently working the lube into her ass as he watched her face. She’d feel that bright pop of pleasure-pain as her other opening stretched, accommodating him. Knowing what he was preparing her for and what was coming next.

  “You don’ like this,” he whispered against her ear, “you just tell me. This is about you feelin’ good. We can stop anytime, chère.”

  Dag kissed her, rolling onto his side. His hips drove harder and faster, burying himself in her.

  “God, yes,” she whispered. “Give me more, Rafer.”

  That was all he needed. He tucked the head of his cock against her snug little opening.

  ~~~~

  She could feel Rafer. Dag. Too much and yet not enough, the exquisite sensations tearing through her had her aching for more of their touch. This was her fantasy come to life.

  Rafer’s cock stretched her rear.

  Dag held her steady, while the loving hands of the twins and Jackson braced her.

  Dag paused, looking down at her face. “You okay, sha?”

  Sweet concern filled her tough, hard Dag’s voice as he fought for control. She wanted to stop, they would. He held on to her like she was the center of his universe.

  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All she could do was ride the searing waves of pleasure.

  Rafer moved inside her; Dag pushed back. A fiery maelstrom of sensation tore at the sensitized nerve endings in her core. Both men were so large. She’d never imagined feeling so taken. Dominated.

  She arched up into Dag’s hold, and a masculine groan tore from his throat. She was sensually aware of the power she wielded over these men. Of the give and take between them.

  “You feel so good.” Dag muttered the words roughly against her throat and thrust harder, his hips driving into the cradle of her thighs. Deeper and faster. Determined. She held on to him and on to the twins, her breath soughing out of her in a needy moan. Each deep thrust pushed her back to meet Rafer’s erotic penetration. Filling her with heat and pressure. Glorious need.

  “Come with us, sha,” Dag demanded. His hands gripped her hips and drew her up to meet his next thrust. Oh God, she’d had no idea she could feel so much.

  Rafer and Dag moved inside her, working to pleasure her, and all she could do was hold on and ride the waves of sensation. The fierce edge came closer and closer, each deliberate stroke pushing her nearer until she came, convulsing around them, coming apart as their hands held her steady, anchoring her.

  “Ours.” An exquisitely primal possession marked Rafer’s voice.

  “Mine,” she returned fiercely.

  Sleep came fast and hard. Dimly, she was aware of Rafer sliding out of her. Someone washed her tenderly, gently, and then she was tucked up in a pile of male bodies, someone’s hands stroking her hair and back as she drifted off.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sun had barely cracked the horizon, but already the bayou air was warm, a lush weight against Lark’s bare skin. Her wolves were piled over and around her in a sleepy, sensual heap, tangled up together in a cozy cocoon of sheets and bodies. She stirred, and Dag’s head lifted, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pulled her down for a slow, heated kiss.

  “Remember.” One big finger traced the outline of her mouth. “Whatever you want, sha. You don’ have to decide now. You take all the time you wan’.”

  He dropped his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes, but he wasn’t sleeping. He was giving her space. Time to get used to the delicious strangeness of this new relationship.

  Luc and Rafer were already gone. The twins were sprawled on one side, with Jackson curled up against their legs. She’d need a larger bed. Just remembering last night had a blush heating her face, even though no one was watching, but this felt right and she was okay. She and her wolves would explore their new relationship together. Stake their claims on each other.

  Wrapping the sheet around herself, she got up and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly. She didn’t want to disturb her wolves. Although maybe they were playing possum like Dag. Hunters. Predators. Protectors. Not much got past them.

  And they were still making sure she had what she needed.

  Her bare feet hit the cool hardwood. The kitchen door opened at the far end of the hall, and Rafer padded towards her, gloriously naked except for a pair of black sweats. He held out a steaming cup of coffee to her, her white mug with bluebells absurdly feminine in his large hand. The coffee was good, but the kiss was better.

  When he finally let go of her, his slow smile lit her up. She wanted this man close. “You always plan on waking me up this way?” she asked.

  His fingers traced the sheet, dipping beneath the lacy edge. “I could do that.”

  Her imagination took them straight back to that sleepy, tumbled bed. She could reach out, take his hand and lead him back there. Wake up the others and sta
rt last night all over again.

  Unfortunately, she was out of time. This was the last morning the farm belonged to her. By tonight, there would be a new owner—one of the cash bidders the bank had made it plenty clear were waiting in the wings.

  “We have to leave here.”

  Sadness at the reality of losing the farm warred with unexpected contentment at being part of a we. She shot a glance towards the bedroom where the new rumble of masculine voices promised the others were waking up and getting ready to start the day. Her Pack. Warmth spread through her.

  Rafer frowned. “Here?”

  “This house. The farm.”

  “Your home.” He set the cup to one side, then his fingers gently speared her hair. For a long moment, he rested his face against her skin, a reassuring weight against her neck. She breathed in and then out. Losing the farm, starting over with the Pack—this would come out right even if she went with her Pack somewhere else.

  “Our home.” She turned her face against his, inhaling. Rafer smelled wild and smoky, like the bayou he loved so much. “Or so I’d hoped.”

  She’d wanted a place to belong and people to belong with. Somehow, unexpectedly, the bayou had given her that with the Breaux brothers. She’d gotten more than she’d hoped for, but she wouldn’t be starting that new life with them here.

  He smiled. A guilty male smile.

  “You don’ have to go anywhere.”

  “I do. We do.”

  He stroked a thumb along her jaw. “Is this about what happened last night?”

  “Last night was special.” Head back, watching his face, she didn’t miss a flash of something dark in his eyes. He was no tame wolf, no matter how gently he treated her. He was and always would be wild at heart, and she loved that about him. “I want us to stay together. Wherever that is.”

 

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