Shifter Romance Box Set

by Unknown

  Separated by only a thin layer of flesh, they rubbed against each other inside her, as if they were vying for dominance. Their cocks throbbed within her as they took her, brutally thrusting into her without mercy, and Lacey cried out with a long, keening sound.

  The sensation was agonizing and yet it was glorious. Her ass clenched around Mark's cock and her pussy spasmed as her hips thrust down on Cole. They held her tight, pumping into her throbbing holes. The joint of her jaw popped and she ran her tongue over the sharp points of her teeth. A feral scream escaped her mouth, her whole body twitching and writhing against her two men.

  Mark's cock stretched her tense ring of muscle as he swelled at the base. Then she let out a tortured moan as the root of Cole's cock thickened in response to Mark's fervor. Helplessly writhing between them, she was trapped, pinioned by their bulging cocks as they held her, filling her with their wildness.

  Then Mark let out a bestial howl, his harsh voice ringing in her ears. He bucked and his cock jumped inside her, spilling his seed into her ass.

  Cole's rhythm increased and his lip curled up from his muzzle-like jaw, exposing his teeth as a wild look burned in his eyes. She leaned her head down, touching her snout to his, her gaze laced with primal thirst. "Come," she breathed in a guttural voice from deep in her throat.

  His head jerked back, his arms gripping her fur-covered thighs as he slammed against her. His cock undulated against Mark's drained member and he lurched deep in her pussy. His long moan shook the three of them as it morphed into a wild yell. Then their howls erupted in unison, full-throated cries, like serrated knives tearing into the moonlit night.

  * * * *

  The night was cool and the moon cast eerie luminescence from a cloudless sky. The breeze rustled leaves from their anchors and sent them aloft in a cascade of spinning petal-like wafers. They fell to the earth, piling around the base of the trees, creating a soft carpet for paws to quietly tread upon.

  She slunk silently through the forest, sniffing the air for her mates. They were close.

  Slinking out of the inky-black shadows, the two came up on either side of her, flanking her as they nuzzled the fur on her neck. The gray one licked his lips as his eyes searched hers and she nipped at his muzzle. My love.

  The dark one looked up, glancing through the forest with his ears cocked, his tail low. She sensed his unease. Something strange but faint, mixed with the odors of the woods. It was unfamiliar but she shook her coat and yawned away the worry. It was probably nothing and she wanted to have fun tonight.

  Growling playfully, she mouthed the dark one's back leg and then bolted into the dense foliage. To her pleasure, she heard both of them chasing after her; a rumble from the gray one and a bark of complaint from the dark one. She ignored them, running with all her might, indulging in the rush of being wild and free.

  Rounding a bend, she leapt over a bush and heard the two males crash into each other. One of them whined in the distance as she kept up her fast pace.

  Now she'd be able to keep ahead of them. She took another turn at a cluster of tree trunks and ducked under low branches. Her chest burned and her breath came in ragged pants as she began to tire.

  They would catch her for sure, as they had in the past. This was her game and she'd learned that their endurance was much stronger than her own. But she liked how they barked triumphantly when they trounced her.

  Slowing her pace, she gave out a playful call, laughing to herself as she gave up. It impressed her how well she'd adapted to this. Each night she was getting better at maneuvering through the dense maze of growth, using only her instincts to guide her.

  Suddenly, her eyes widened as those same instincts gave her a small warning. She cocked her head and swiveled her ears as she realized the forest was deathly quiet. Normally when the three ran through the trees, she could hear the sounds of night creatures going about their business; scratches on bark, rustling through brush, calls in the dark. But all she heard now was her own heavy panting.

  She sniffed the air and the strange smell returned to her, stronger this time. It invaded her senses as if it surrounded her and she licked her muzzle with unease.

  Then she heard the snap of a twig.

  She jerked and turned to the sound. For a moment, she felt relief as a gray wolf loped into the clearing in front of her.

  But he was all wrong; skinny, shaggy, and he smelled of wood smoke and hot metal. His golden eyes locked on her with intensity and his lip curled.

  Panicking, she pivoted around to escape. But two more stood in her way, one red, the other sable with a black snout. There were more, hiding just in the shadows, and the branches rustled as the wolves pushed out into the open, on either side of her.

  Oh god, please, no!

  Whimpering, she tucked her tail, then howled at the top of her lungs as they leapt at her in a rush of fur and teeth.

  Swinging with the Wolfman

  The moon cast silver-streaked daggers through the tangled branches, scattering dappled light on the circling shadows below. Lacey's paws sank into the loamy soil and her breath burst out in ragged puffs of steam. Her pulse pounded in her ears, a litany inside her head echoing over and over. Run. Escape. Now.

  Blood dripped from a jagged slash on her muzzle as she whipped her head around. There were too many of them, and they'd cut her off from the only trail leading out of the cramped clearing between the dense trees. With fear driving her, she swiveled in her spot, her tail curled between her legs, teeth bared.

  The wolves paced around her, snarling and glaring as they watched for an opening to attack. She'd recognized that escape was futile as soon as their shadowy shapes had closed in around her, but that didn't stop the primitive instinct from screaming in the back of her mind.

  Unable to do anything else, she fought back, biting and snapping at her assailants. But they were stronger and faster, and they outnumbered her four to one.

  A large gray wolf launched at her rear, his teeth sinking into her flank. She yelped and tried to turn but he held her in his iron jaws. Another leapt at her side, biting her shoulder, while the third one snapped at her throat.

  Pain seared through her flesh and streaked in her veins but she struggled, snarling at the beast who danced in front of her.

  Then a large weight bore down her back and teeth caught the scruff of her neck. Her head lowered from the strain, a whine trailing through her muzzle. He was the largest of the pack, the one she had first mistaken for her husband, Mark. But his eyes were wrong: a bright, unnatural yellow that seemed to glow in the shadows.

  The other wolves backed off but hung close by: eyes full of bloodlust, nostrils flared, teeth like pearlized knives. Their lupine bodies tensed like coiled springs, waiting as their moist breath wisped away in slender traces of steam.

  A growl rumbled through the beast on her back and it reverberated down the taut length of her spine. With a snort, he jerked his hips over her backside. Lacey whimpered, her eyes wild with panic, as the tip of his cock brushed her vulnerable entrance. Oh God, please, no.

  Then a streak of red fur flashed in the corner of her eye and a yelp rang out in the dark forest. The wolf on top of her froze, his jaw loosening its hold on her neck.

  The dim light closed in around Lacey, oppressive and heavy as she tried to process what was happening through the fog of fear in her mind. In agonizing slow motion, the onlookers turned their attention away from her. New expressions—shock, dismay, even fear—flashed in their eyes as they faced a rust-colored wolf who towered over the cringing body of one of their number. Then a white beast dashed out of the brush and lunged, followed by several gray-coated wolves.

  The weight lifted from her back as the large wolf spun away to join the unfolding melee. A desperate glimmer of hope took root in her chest. Forcing her pain-stricken limbs to obey her, she quickly scrambled into the brush. But her injured leg crumpled under her body and she skidded to a halt behind a large maple tree.

  She tensed as a tan-
coated wolf dashed by her, followed by a black one with snarling teeth. Two gray wolves tore up the moss and earth as they dodged around the tree, sending a yelp out her muzzle. So many.

  A shrill voice in her head screamed at her to keep going. Get away. Flee. Find Mark. She yearned for the solid presence of her husband more than anything.

  Acute pain lanced through her nerves and she sank against the hard trunk, her muzzle resting on the rich-scented soil. Her rump throbbed where she'd been bitten and her damaged leg spasmed. She wanted to run from the chaos around her, but her body wouldn't respond. Her only hope was to hide and hope the victor couldn't find her.

  As she panted, the branches above her swayed and the world condensed down to a single black mote. The sounds of snarls and yelps were distant echoes in her ears as her eyelids drooped shut.

  Where did all the wolves come from? Her conscious mind wandered and she drifted, unfettered. She and Mark—and Cole too—had spent weeks in these woods. There hadn't been wolves then. Had there?

  The world descended into quiet and her senses jerked in the gloomy half-light. She roused to awareness and shot a glance around the dark trees. The fighting had stopped and the only sound was a rustling breeze through the leaves overhead.

  Then she spied the shape of the copper-colored wolf, loping silently toward her. Her body tensed as the white one jogged up on the other side, followed by gray and black wolves.

  Lacey put her ears back and lifted one of her paws in a submissive gesture. The new pack had won and they had found her. Now they were coming to claim their prize. And there was nothing she could do to stop them.

  The red wolf crossed the distance between them cautiously, and when close, it sniffed at her muzzle. A long tongue uncurled as the wolf panted, and to Lacey's surprise, it licked at the bloody cut at the edge of her jaw.

  Still uncertain, she eyed the other wolves. The large beast with the pale fur sat on its haunches, leaning gently against her as it scanned the trees. The black one shook its coat and strode back into the shadows.

  As the other wolves patiently waited nearby, she relaxed. Whoever they were, they weren't hostile like the others. And in her vulnerable state, she would take any help, even if it was from a strange pack of wolves.

  * * * *

  "You are not safe at the house for they are watching you. We are like you and will help. Flee to the woods and don't trust the men in suits. -Jeremiah"

  Mark's brows furrowed as he stepped into his house, his naked toes leaving dirty prints on the kitchen floor. The note had been slipped under the back door sometime during the night.

  He and Cole had searched until dawn for Lacey, tracing her scent back to a spot where it simply disappeared. The possibility of UFO abduction entered his panic-stricken brain but he dismissed his erratic thoughts. Extraterrestrials don't leave handwritten letters in elegant cursive.

  As he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, he handed the note to Cole. "We've got to go back out there."

  Cole scanned down the paper. "Whoa. What the hell is this?"

  "I don't know." Mark rubbed his jaw. "But I have a feeling they know where Lacey is, whoever they are."

  "What do they mean about 'the men in suits'?"

  Mark shook his head with annoyance.

  It had been a month since Cole had appeared on their doorstep, lost and at his wit's end. After a brief confrontation, they had taken him into their home, and into their bed.

  Cole had been a courteous house guest and Mark had no complaints. The younger man stepped up to do chores and always cleaned up after himself. He even managed to secure a temporary job at a local tack and feed shop, to pay for living expenses while he looked for answers to his abduction.

  He mostly kept to himself, only spending a few nights a week in the couple's bed. The rest of the time he slept in the guest room or spent his time searching for records of suspicious disappearances. Most importantly, Lacey enjoyed the extra attention and Mark would do anything to please her, even if it meant sharing her with another man.

  But Mark knew it wouldn't last forever. He yearned for normalcy. Yet the world seemed hell-bent on making things more and more difficult. His work at the lab had come under strict scrutiny since the accident and his coworkers had started giving him strange looks. Not only that, but the project managers spoke in hushed whispers whenever he was nearby.

  It was a small town, so he thought maybe word had spread about Cole living with them. However, that wouldn't explain the dark sedan he had spotted following him home the last couple of nights.

  Although Mark had become more comfortable with the cowboy, far enough to call him a friend, it was not his ideal situation. He'd told Lacey early on that this would only be temporary. Cole had even confided that he dreamed of settling down with a nice woman of his own someday, after he figured out how he'd woken up in a different state, halfway across the country.

  The plan was to find out what was happening, get a cure to fix their affliction, and then go their own ways: Cole returning home and the couple returning to their life in the wooded town.

  But at that moment, Cole was the only thing holding Mark together. If he had been alone, Mark would have torn his hair out. And for that reason he was thankful for the other man's company.

  There were other forces at play here, and Mark hated that he couldn't see the whole picture: humans turning into wolves, gaps in memory, human trafficking, unmarked cars tracking his movements, and Lacey's disappearance.

  He made a mental note to get his rifle from the basement. It normally sat behind the front door but Lacey had convinced him to lock it up in the safe a few months back. For the sake of his wife, he had complied, but he had to wonder... What's the use of a weapon if you can't get to it quickly?

  Mark sank into one of the overstuffed chairs. He needed time to think, time to analyze the situation, as unreal as it was. The only way he could wrap his brain around the nonsense was to take it one step at a time. But he didn't have a clear enough picture in his head to plan a safe move. Since the pieces to the puzzle remained elusive, they had to make a leap of faith and fast.

  "We need to find these people, whoever they are, and get some answers." Mark glanced up at Cole. "I don't like it but this is our only clue to find Lacey." He took the note back and stuffed it into his pants.

  The other man had pulled on a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt hung loosely over his shoulders, the front open, exposing his smooth chest. He sat down on the couch opposite Mark and crossed his fingers in front of him.

  "So are we just going to walk?" Cole asked. "I haven't changed in the daylight before."

  Mark's tight jaw worked as he ground his teeth together. "I haven't either. And I don't know if it would make sense to try. We might be better off as men... and well armed. Have you handled a rifle—"

  A loud rap broke off his words, and he sucked in a breath as they both jumped to their feet.

  "Lacey?" Cole asked with a hopeful note in his voice.

  Mark shook his head. "She wouldn't knock."

  He walked into the hall and headed to the front entrance, with Cole on his heels. As he opened the door, his heart skipped. I should have grabbed my gun first.

  Two men stood on the front doorstep, dressed in black suits with opaque sunglasses shielding their eyes. A dark sedan sat at the end of the driveway, with all four doors ajar.

  Hairs prickled on the back of Mark's neck. Just when his day couldn't get any worse... Now he was dealing with spooks straight out of the Matrix or X-Files.

  "Can I help you?" Mark asked, composing his best poker face. He didn't like this. Not one goddamned bit. It was too coincidental after the note, and he didn't believe in bad luck.

  The shorter of the two men tilted his head. "Sorry to bother you, sir—".

  "Just call me 'Mark'."

  "Mark. Okay, like on the mailbox." The man took out a small notepad and jotted down something Mark couldn't quite see.

  "I'm Special Agent Slate," said the taller
man. "And this is Special Agent Cruz."

  "We're here to investigate unusual reports of increased lupine populations." Cruz finished writing and tapped his pen on the pad. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

  "Where is Lacey?" Slate asked with a hint of impatience.

  Mark's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

  Cruz looked up from his notepad. Mark stared back at his own carefully composed reflection in the other man's tinted glasses. If they knew something about Lacey... He suppressed the urge to throttle the man and demand information about his wife's disappearance.

  "The other name on your mailbox," Cruz said slowly.

  "Oh, that's my stage name." Cole stepped closer to the doorway with a shy smile on his face.

  The agents studied Cole for a long moment, as if they hadn't noticed him before. Cruz's brow furrowed above the dark glasses as he seemed lost in thought.

  "You live together?" Slate sounded skeptical.

  Mark groaned inwardly, but he kept his gaze fixed. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

  "Not at all." Cruz glanced at his papers. "How long?"

  "A few years." Cole slipped his arm around Mark and gave him an affectionate wink.

  A grimace painted Mark's face and he gently pushed Cole aside. "What agency did you say you were from? I'd like to see some identification."

  The men glanced at each other as they shifted their weights and Mark caught the glimpse of a gun poking out of Slate's jacket.

  "FBI." Cruz folded his arms. "If you could step out of the house, please."

  "ID first." Mark's hand gripped the door.

  "We know about your condition and we want to help." Slate raised his eyebrows. "Please, step out of the house."

  Mark's mouth gaped for a moment. Then he stepped back. "I don't know what you're talking about. And quite frankly, I've had enough of your bullshit. Get off my property." Mark started to close the door.

  "I wouldn't do that." Cruz grinned, a long canine tooth pressing against the man's lower lip.