by L. V. Lane
“Goddess!”
I struggle as he continues to batter against that sensitive spot inside. My nails rake over his arms, but it only drives him on.
“Open your legs,” he commands. “Do I need to take the strap to your naughty bottom before you can be good?”
I am like a ragdoll being broken on his cock, but I do not want to feel the strap. The pain is doing strange things to me. My pussy gushes around his rod so that the rutting makes the most obscene, wet sounds.
“Good girl,” he purrs. “You are taking this so well. I am almost all the way inside your hot little cunt. I think some time with the strap before this evening’s rut will help you to better relax and take all of me.” His eyes are locked on the place where he spears me.
Suddenly, he rips his cock from me, and pinning me against the table, strums my clit without mercy.
“Oh!”
“Beg me for my cock,” he demands. He pauses the strumming just as I’m about to come and lands a sharp smack against my thigh. He pinches and pets the little pleasure numb before strumming it roughly again.
“Beg your master for his cock. Beg me to get all the way up inside this tight little Beta pussy.”
He alternates between rough strumming, stinging spanks, and petting my slippery clit until I fear I am about to lose my mind. My hoarse wailing must be heard for miles.
“Please, fill me. Please! I need all of it!”
I come the moment he surges into me. There is some pain, but it acts as a trigger, making my pussy grasp his length harder.
He growls as he holds me pinned to him. Inside, I feel the gush of cum filling me . . . and the knot swelling. He snarls as he jerks out. Fisting his cock, he works it roughly, covering my pussy and belly with thick white ropes of his seed.
I lay panting.
He nearly knotted me.
He was all the way up inside me. He nearly stretched my poor Beta pussy with his knot.
The thought of being knotted no longer fills me with dread. “I need my master’s knot,” I say on a moan. My hands are on my pussy before I can better think how this might come across. The fingers of one hand spear inside while the others rub roughly over my swollen clit.
“Good girl,” he croons. “What a perfect, filthy little Beta I have found. Getting herself off on the thought of taking her master’s cock and knot.”
Wanting to come again, I groan. My fingers do not feel as good as when Jack does it. All I do is make myself hungrier for more of him.
A sob bursts from my chest. I am tired, but I am also needy in ways I do not understand.
His eyes meet mine, and his nostrils flare. “You are adjusting to being with an Alpha,” he says, smoothing a hand over my hot cheek. “This is normal, lass. You are naturally lusty. Although you do not scent my pheromones in the way an Omega might, they are still acting upon you.” He stuffs his still hardened cock into his pants and carries me through to the bedding chamber where he lays me on the bed. “You will take my knot naturally when you are most fertile,” he says, eyes hooded as he inspects me. “My brother has returned, and I must deal with him. But first, I need to scent you some more.”
His hands lower to his pants, thrusting them down his hips far enough for his fat cock to pop out.
My pussy clenches at the sight.
“Just lie there for me like a good girl,” he says, spreading my legs open as he jerks his hand up and down his ruddy cock. “I need to get my seed over you. Then you will take a nap while I deal with Fen.”
I am already smeared with his cum. Thick globs of pre-cum leak from the tip. It drips over my pussy, belly, and breasts with every pump of his fist. “You are not to wash this off,” he says, voice low, and gaze enrapt by the fresh splattering of his seed covering me. “It is rich with my pheromones, and it will further drive your Beta body to respond.”
I pant, captivated by the rapture contorting his face. Being covered in his seed, and further, sleeping thus, should horrify me, but my pussy only weeps in anticipation of his marking.
He growls teeth bared as he shoots load after load of thick cum over me. I gasp in shock as more and more spills and splatters over my body from my pussy all the way to my throat.
I tremble in the aftermath. Taking my small hand, he presses it into the thickest pool of cum, and uses it to spread it around, over my breasts, up to my throat. The scent invades me. I am shaking with equal part shock and arousal. Alphas are a strange yet compellingly basal breed of males.
He smirks, pleased with the mess he has made. “You are well claimed,” he says, pride coloring his voice.
A thick pelt is selected and wrapped around me. Then I am told to sleep until he returns.
Despite my determination that I am not sleepy, I do drift into sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fen
JACK IS GOING to be pissed. I can sense the mood in the clan as Brandon and myself arrive. Everyone is presuming I have fucked up again. If I have, then for once it was not my intention.
We come to a halt in the small square outside my home where Jack’s second, Glen, approaches us.
“It will take more than a buck to improve his mood,” Glen says, pointing at the deer carcass resting over my shoulder. It weighs a fucking ton. I let it drop, and it hits the dusty ground with a thud. I do not mention that it is the second buck we caught. The first one was abandoned long since when we caught the Lyon warriors trying to snatch a Halket lass.
“He cannot be in that bad a mood,” I say, rubbing a hand through my hair while gesturing toward the open double doors. From inside comes the unmistakable sounds of a lass being pleasured.
Being pleasured very well if her wild moans are anything to go by.
It is not an unpleasant sound. It is entirely pleasing, if I were honest, but it has been a good while since I felt Gwen’s clever tongue, and it is having a predictable effect.
“He has broken his abstinence from rutting then?” I venture to ask. It must be my brother. I cannot imagine anyone in the clan bold enough to commandeer his home for rutting a lass.
“A mate,” Glen says, smirking.
“Nola?” Brandon asks, copping a scowl from both Glen and me.
“No fucking way would Jack bed Nola,” I say . . . Unless the lass has drugged him. I turn to Glen. “It’s not Nola, is it?” I do not like the lass well. She often has ideas above her station. I feel a little sick at the thought of it being Nola.
“It is not fucking Nola,” Glen says with surprising vehemence. “It is a western lass he brought back after visiting your sister. Nola has been banished to Halket as a slave for some mischief she engaged in.”
“Fuck!” Brandon says inadequately.
Inside, the wails of pleasure rise.
“Aye,” Glen says, lips a flat line of displeasure. “I’d not mention her name in Jack’s presence. It was only his new mate’s insistence that Nola be shown mercy that saved the troublemaker’s life.”
Mate? I cannot believe Jack has taken on a mate. He showed no inclination toward claiming one before he left. The Goddess plays mysterious games.
The news of Nola’s mischief worries me, and I am not sorry she has been banished. Yet, there are other graver concerns at large. I need to talk to Jack and tell him everything I have learned.
“Maybe I should wait,” I say.
Glen’s lips tug up in a smirk. “He could be in there a while. Maybe the rest of the day. But I know he is keen to learn all about your antics that have left us under the threat of war. I will venture to check his mood.”
I nod my thanks, and Glen strides off up the steps.
The groans of pleasure stop, and I swallow. I knew there would be trouble after I chased the warriors off. How the fuck do I find myself in these situations? Here I am outside my own fucking home waiting with my head up my ass while Glen goes in to assess my brother’s mood!
Glen returns a short time later, a smirk on his lips as he makes his way down the steps. The sounds of ro
ugh rutting, moans, and growls of pleasure can be clearly heard. It is not only the lass taking pleasure now. Thank fuck I cannot see inside from where I stand.
“He said the whelp can fucking wait,” Glen says, still grinning. “But I believe he will be done shortly.”
He points at the dead buck. Better take that to be dealt with.
Shortly turns out to be fucking ages. The rutting has done little to soften Jack’s mood, for he is wearing an expression like thunder when he comes upon me sitting on my ass on the shore of the loch.
Brandon slinks off, leaving me to suffer my brother’s wrath alone.
“So you have a mate then,” I say, turning back to the glistening water and sending a stone skimming the surface.
“You have started a fucking war! Now is not the time to sit skimming fucking rocks like a fucking whelp!”
I jump to my feet, pissed with his assumption that I am the wrongdoer in this. He is always fast with his fucking assumptions. “It is a pity you are not as fucking fast with your rutting as you are with your fucking blame. Then I would not be out here skimming stones like a fucking whelp!”
His face softens some. “So you have a good reason for causing conflict with Lyon? I had hoped as much. And as for rutting, I am not a green whelp dipping his cock for the first time. Although I admit, the poor lass was sore, and I needed to tend to her. She is yet new to being with an Alpha, and there is much training to do.”
I swallow hard. I don’t yet know this lass he has taken as a mate. Yet that my brother is clearly smitten with both the lass and her pussy, piques my interest. Given his year’s abstinence, I cannot begrudge him his newfound joy.
“Lyon warriors were trying to snatch a lass,” I say. “We were hunting after the incident with Gwen.” I assume Jack has heard about that part. His scowl suggests he has. “I do not think the first lass who found herself suddenly mated went by choice. Seeing four warriors on Halket lands, we followed. They caught a lass. Not so far from the village either. I think they were going to rut her then and there. I bloodied one with my blade. It was enough to give them pause so the lass could run for home. I stood my ground, and the warriors fled like the cowards they are.”
“There have been a couple of skirmishes,” he says. “You best be fucking sure the lass was not willing if we are about to go to war over it.”
“She was not fucking willing,” I say, scowling and fighting my temper. “I know the sound of an unwilling lass. She was screaming until they struck her to quieten her down. Had we not been there, she would have been rutted and taken off as one of their mates, maybe all of theirs.”
His face softens. He nods and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I was only asking, Fen. I do not willingly go to war. But I fucking hate that bastard they call a leader. I find myself anticipating the joy in carving him up more than is sensible for a man who has recently acquired a mate.”
“The timing is not good,” I agree. I side-eye Jack, trying to gauge his mood, for I am curious about his mate.
“No,” he says, eyes narrowing.
“What?” I say faking affront.
“You will meet the lass when I am fucking ready and not before.”
“Is she pretty?”
“I am still pissed about what happened with Gwen,” he says.
My smirk grows. “She is pretty,” I say. He has all but admitted as much by not disputing it.
“There is more to a lass than being pretty,” he says.
I glance his way. “She has big tits and takes well to rutting—uff!” I cannot believe he has fucking cuffed me. “If her wild moans of pleasure after you learned I had arrived are anything to go by,” I say, still risking the opportunity to bait. “I think you’re worried the lass might prefer me.”
His dark gaze is unsettling. It is not unusual for brothers to share a mate. I have never considered such an idea before, although I am no stranger to sharing a lass or enjoying more than one. Outside of the clans, our ways are considered scandalous by some. I cannot imagine any other way.
Still, I always assumed I’d mate more than one lass rather than the other way around.
“How pretty?” I venture to ask.
As he stares at me, I see the tic thumping in his jaw and the stiffening of his posture. I feel like I am standing on shifting ground, and I don’t know what any of this means.
“Come, best we meet with our warriors. Then we will need to send word to Halket for this will involve them.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hazel
THIRST AND HUNGER rouse me from sleep . . . and stickiness. I am also sticky such that I need to peel the pelt from my skin. There is always a jug and bowl waiting with a soft woolen towel on the small table before the shuttered window. I pad over and clean myself up.
I now possess several hide dresses that are scandalously short and barely cover my breasts, courtesy of a few easily undone ties. Ties, that I might add, squash my breasts together. Further, the material does not meet fully and places my cleavage on display. I swear the clothing was sent by the Goddess herself to tempt a man toward rutting. It presents everything they might want to touch in an enticing package. There is no underwear, which means my ass and pussy are available for Jack’s big hands to pet, pinch, or pat.
Sometimes, he gets a gleam in his eye, and the short skirt is thrust up before he sets about rutting me without a care for where we might be or who is around. It seems to be the way of things around here. A man may be mated or wed to one or more women, just as a woman may be bound to one or more men. I am not the only lass who is absconded for swift rutting without warning. The males all seem to possess a constant and vigorous appetite—it is a wonder anything gets done!
I spend the afternoon helping the clan womenfolk with some food preparation, but as the light fades, I wonder about Jack and his long-absent brother, Fen.
Returning to the home, I find it quiet. Food will be brought at Jack’s request, so I pad into the bedding chamber to wash my hands and face.
Low voices rouse me from the task, and I wipe myself off on the waiting woolen towel.
One voice is Jack, but the other is unknown. Curious, I approach the entrance to the bedding chamber and peer out.
I am quiet, but the two men seem to sense me, and both heads swing my way.
I swallow. I know instantly that the man standing beside my mate is Fen, Jack’s brother. Jack is always calling him a whelp and further speaks often of Fen’s foolishness. In my mind, he was still the young lad I met at the riverbank and with whom I shared my first kiss. I barely recognize this strapping Alpha, who, while younger than Jack, is every bit as intimidating. They look similar in features—Fen is not as brawny as his older brother, but Goddess, he is as handsome as sin with his darker hair and eyes. A lazy smirk lights his face as his gaze drinks me in.
He looks hungry. They both look hungry and not in the way of a man needing food.
I blink a few times.
I swallow again.
This is what Jack spoke about. I’m supposed to present to both him and his brother.
Goddess, this is shameful, but I also do not want a punishment with the strap. Jack has threatened to use the strap tonight to prepare me to take all of his cock better. I cannot imagine how much worse it will be for me if I fail my duties now.
Turning around, I peek back over my shoulder to double-check. No, they are both still staring at me like they are barely restraining themselves from falling upon me. I need to do this. I really need to present myself for their ravishment.
My pussy grows damp in anticipation. I see Fen’s nostrils flare. Goddess, it is still shocking to consider that an Alpha can scent my lust. Drawing a ragged breath in, I sink to my knees, and face flaming, reach back to lift my skirt.
“Fuck,” Fen mutters roughly. “I have gone a little lightheaded so swiftly has the blood rushed to my cock.”
I hear a thud and Fen grunts. I peek back again to see the brothers glaring at one another before both th
eir faces swing my way.
Fen groans as though in great pain. I do not think Jack hit him that hard?
“This is not a rutting time,” Jack says harshly. “Go to the bedding chamber, lass, and await me there.”
Tears pool in my eyes as embarrassment fills me that I have gotten this wrong. Snatching my skirt down, I flee the room.
Fen
I understood that Jack had taken himself a mate, and further, that she was pretty. The word pretty does not do justice to the Goddess-blessed beauty who just entered the room.
Then she sank to her knees, lifted the hem of her scandalously short dress, and presented herself for ravishment.
My brain stopped functioning as I took in that sight.
Then Jack acted like a dick, and the poor lass was sent running from the room.
I can hear her sobbing. It builds my temper to the point where I am ready to knock some sense into my older brother.
“What the fuck was that about?” I demand, glaring at the thick-skinned oaf who has no business being anyone’s mate. There is something strangely compelling about the lass who just entered the room. Like I know her. Yet, Glen mentioned she was a westerner, so she is not from a clan. Our sister must have introduced them. Becka was always seeking to find me a mate when she was here. It makes sense that she would be up to the same mischief with Jack, even though he is more surly than I ever was.
I can also see why such a lass would tempt any man to change his views on mating. I have never been inclined toward taking a mate before.
Before. As I embrace this revelation, it shocks me. The entry of the tiny Beta into my life is like a blow between the eyes . . . and other places.
“I told her to fucking present if I looked like I was in need,” Jack growls. “I was not expecting her to present the first time she clapped eyes upon you!”
I smirk a little inside, although I am still pissed at his handling of this. Had we rutted the lass—as she clearly needed—she would not be upset now.
