Dire Wolves of London Box Set

by Carina Wilder

  In spite of herself, Emma’s mind flashed once again with images of the two men in bed with her. One mouth on each nipple. A cock in each hand…

  “Are you two trying to persuade me to come home and have a threesome? Is that it?” She smiled as she uttered the words. She was trying to make a joke of it, though by now the idea was making her core ache violently with pure, unadulterated desire. A one-night stand with two gods would be a once in a lifetime event, to be sure, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  “Not quite,” said Roth, letting out a chuckle. “My friend is just being an arse. I apologize for his dickishness. He enjoys the old stories from home, you know, for their bawdiness.”

  “Ah,” she replied, trying not to let her disappointment show on her features. “Quite all right. A single woman in a pub has to be careful, you know. Though something tells me that you two aren’t threatening, in spite of your rather impressive…size.”

  “If you only knew how non-threatening we were, because of our rather impressive…size,” replied Laird, pulling his chair closer, pressing his body towards hers. She could feel his hot breath on her cleavage, and wondered if he was doing it on purpose, because it felt amazing. “If you only knew how two men like us would look after a woman such as yourself.”

  “I have no doubt of it,” Emma breathed. “I can’t…quite…imagine…but I want to…” She closed her eyes and parted her lips. She wanted him to kiss her. It was utterly insane; she hardly even knew him, but she’d never wanted anything so much as she wanted his lips on hers right now. Then she wanted Roth’s. Then Laird’s again.

  She wanted everything they could possibly offer her.

  Her eyes popped open and she thrust herself back in her chair. Stupid girl, what the hell are you thinking? You’re going utterly mad with lust.

  “Um, listen, Emma,” Roth said suddenly, grabbing Laird’s arm and pulling him away from her, “I think we’ve imposed on your very pleasant company long enough. We should go.”

  “Oh?” she asked, disappointment flooding her bloodstream like molten lava. “Well, I suppose my friend isn’t showing up. I’ll be leaving too…” She stopped herself, realizing that she was all but offering to walk with them. Bad idea. Terrible. Let them go first. Don’t act desperate, even if you are.

  “In that case, may we walk you home?” Laird asked, taking her subconscious hint. “London’s not always so safe at night. We could take you right to your door and see that you get in safely.”

  The thought of it nearly made her dizzy. Maybe they could both come to her place, and she could lure them inside, take them upstairs, somehow make their trousers melt with her eyes…

  “I’m all right,” she said, pressing a hand into her chest as she tried to calm whatever emotion was raging inside her. She smiled at the sensation. To feel so alive, so excited, was a new experience, and one that she wouldn’t soon forget. “I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

  “It was very nice to meet you,” said Laird, who rose to his feet to leave, as if he were obeying an order from on high. For some reason, Emma stood up as well.

  What are you doing? she asked herself. Are you actually expecting a hug or something?

  To her surprise, Laird leaned towards her once again, took her hand and kissed it soft and slow, sending shivers up her arm that didn’t stop until they’d slipped down her chest and belly to settle between her legs. “Very nice indeed,” he said softly.

  “You too,” she half-moaned as she watched him pull away.

  Roth stepped towards her and, in a strangely intimate gesture, slipped two fingers under her hair and slid them down the side of her neck. Dear God. A new erogenous zone discovered. “We’ll meet again, very soon,” he said, his voice deep and dark. He moved towards her—good lord, he was tall—and pressed his lips to her forehead before pulling back. “Emma Danforth.”

  As she watched the two men make their way towards the exit, a sinking sense of loss landed in her gut like a heavy stone. In the few minutes she’d spent talking to them, she’d grown so attached to the idea of giving her body over to them. The night shouldn’t have ended so abruptly. Now that they were about to disappear, a strange emptiness came out of nowhere and seemed to hollow out her chest.

  What if they didn’t meet again? What if she never saw them again, never had the chance to discover how their flesh felt under her fingers? How their mouths felt on her…

  You’re insane, she told herself again. Insane. Besides, Roth said you’d meet again, very soon.

  Something told her he wasn’t the sort of man to say such things lightly.

  She slipped back into the chair for a moment, staring into space, trying to register everything that had happened in the last half hour or so. The only conclusion she could draw was that she felt…happy. One part of her felt excited about the prospect of her future, her instincts telling her that she would certainly cross paths with her two incredible men again.

  But the most insane thought of all came to her as she stood up and pulled her coat on. The words unfurled in her mind like a spoken verse, her fate dictating itself from some distant, untouchable place.

  She knew now that the reason she wanted to see them again wasn’t just to seek a kiss, or even to enjoy a few hours of passionate sex.

  The real reason was that she wanted to claim them as her own.

  Forever.

  Chapter 5

  “Why in the blazes did you pull us out of there?” asked Laird as they made their way hurriedly down the street. Roth may have been his closest friend, but sometimes the fucker had a way of spoiling things just before they got to be fun. “Things were progressing with our little mate-to-be, Miss Danforth. We could have had a seriously enjoyable night. She was up for it. You know it as well as I do.”

  Roth shook his head. “Wrong on all counts. We made our move, but now we need to give her a little breathing room. She’ll need time to process what’s just happened. She’s human, Laird. Never forget it. There is no Wolf inside her to explain to her what it is to be drawn to us. No déor to guide her.”

  “Well, all right. Perhaps it’s a little too soon to fuc—” Laird stopped himself when he noticed Roth giving him the stern side-eye. “I mean make love to our Emma. Rather, too soon for her. It’s definitely not too soon for me. I’m raring to go. Just ask my dick.”

  Roth glanced down briefly before frowning. “I think I’ll refrain from chatting with your perma-erection, thanks. For the record, I’m raring to go, too. But our genetic makeup, as Emma will soon discover, is not entirely like hers. Our instincts, our desires, they’re more immediate.” It was true, of course. Humans were rather more complicated and less animalistic than shifters. Humans had to deal with problem-solving, doubts, hesitation. They liked to weigh pros and cons before leaping into long-term commitment.

  They were rather dull that way.

  “Well,” said Laird, “her instincts may not be so immediate, but we could have taken advantage of the chance to get to know her a little better. It was obvious that she wants to be friends. Licky friends. With a side order of shagging.” He pulled his gaze slowly to Roth’s, knowing perfectly well that he would be met with another glare. “Oh, fine. The word shagging is off the table as well, I take it?”

  “I’ll concede that it’s better than fucking. Anyhow, she’ll have plenty of chances to be with us, but I want it to be her decision, her choice. These aren’t medieval times when men simply decreed who their brides would be. We have to approach our union carefully. She needs to approve of us, just as much as we need to approve of her.”

  “Bah. You’re talking about her like she’s a sodding business transaction. A mortgage to co-sign. If that’s the case, show me the dotted line and I’ll write my name, so long as I eventually end up in bed with her. I mean, didn’t you smell her when she was up close? She’s like heaven. Fine wine, chocolate and lavender all mixed into one delectable meal of pussy and other horny lady parts.” Laird didn’t go so far as to admit that
he was salivating now. Not to mention the massive hard-on that was rendering his jeans all but unwearable.

  Of course, there was more to his attraction than that. He hesitated to open up, to explain just how deeply he was feeling for a woman with whom he’d barely ever spoken. It seemed a little insane that so much emotional investment should already be tied up in her existence. Though he’d always known that love would hit him fast and hard when the day finally came. He’d heard the stories of his ancestors, of how lightning had struck their minds and bodies when they’d found their mates. Perhaps he’d simply convinced himself that it wouldn’t happen to him.

  Yet here he was, human and Wolf craving the mate Roth had chosen for them.

  “If you’d been with me on the occasions when I’ve watched her,” Roth replied, “you’d know I don’t see her as a bloody mortgage. She’s not a series of numbers, for fuck’s sake. She’s a work of art.” He huffed out a sharp breath that told Laird that he was both exasperated and excited. Frustrated not to have gotten his hands on their future mate. Excited to know that the time might come soon. “I’m so drawn to her, Laird. I have been from the first. Which is why I don’t want to fuck this up for us both. I don’t want to frighten her off.”

  “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about that. She wanted us. You know it, I know it. She would have gone home with both of us in a heartbeat.”

  “Yes, exactly. But it’s best to leave her wanting more, rather than to put her in a position that she’ll consider impulsive and regrettable come morning. She needs to ask us to be with her, not the other way around. To assert her will. Emma needs to have the power, and she needs to know it. Whether it takes two days, a week, months, I want her to call the shots.”

  Laird let out a deep man-sigh. “God, I hope it doesn’t take months. My dick would explode. Aren’t you supposed to call the doctor if you’ve had an erection for more than four hours?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, man, just have yourself a good long wank when you get home. It’s the best medicine for a persistent hard-on.”

  When they reached the corner, Roth pulled around the nearest building and stopped, pressing his back against the wall.

  “What the hell are you doing now?” asked Laird, tucking himself in next to his fellow shifter.

  “Waiting,” Roth said. “She’ll be walking by at any moment now, and we need to follow her. We should make sure she’s okay.”

  “Seriously? We’re really going to stand here all night, hoping she pops by? How do you even know she plans to come this way?”

  “Wait for it.”

  Laird sniffed the air. Sure enough, Roth was right; Emma’s scent was moving towards them at a fast pace. As usual, the pack’s true Alpha had proven his merit.

  Within seconds, Emma wandered past them, her hands tucked deep inside her coat pockets. She was humming quietly, sweetly, as though she was pleased about something.

  “There. Indisputable proof that she likes us,” whispered Laird when she’d gone by. “I think she’s humming that famous song, ‘Oh, If Only I Could Shag Those Two Hot Bastards I Just Met.’”

  “That’s not a song,” hissed Roth.

  “It is too,” replied Laird, “I told you, it’s famous. It goes a little something like this:

  I’m a sexy little geneticist

  With an arse that will never quit

  I just met two Dire Wolves

  And now I regret not shagging their brains out

  Tra la la la la….”

  “Your rhyme scheme leaves a good deal to be desired,” Roth said, chuckling. “Come on, I don’t want to lose the trail while I stand here listening to you improvise another eighteen verses.”

  The two men began a slow pursuit, keeping their distance. “We’re only watching over her until she’s safely home, remember,” Roth said. “No funny business.”

  “Of course not. I shall be on my best behaviour. A guardian of a very delectable female body that I’m not allowed to eat just yet.” As they moved, he took pleasure in watching her from behind. Her quick, confident stride, those shapely calves tucked into her knee-high leather boots. He found himself imagining her bare ass, its sexy roundness, the curve of her lower back, droplets of sweat forming as he eased himself inside her eager body, drawing a cry of pleasure from those full lips of hers.

  As if in response to his fantasy, her scent made its way on the air to his nostrils, still laced with the sweet aroma of arousal.

  Fuck, Emma, he muttered, you do know how to torment a man.

  Emma, who was so close to them—only a hundred feet or so away—and yet still so damned far away. Emma, their mate who couldn’t yet be claimed. Emma, who would make him lose sleep tonight and every night until he could finally have her.

  “So,” he said, “finding one’s mate is torture, apparently.”

  “So they tell me,” replied Roth. “The waiting period can be a little brutal, to say the least.”

  “As long as it’s worth it in the end,” said Laird. “In the meantime, I’m going to try my best not to stare at her hips, because they’re turning my balls periwinkle. Not to mention that I no longer have any blood whatsoever flowing to my brain.”

  Roth slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Probably for the best that you think about something dull then, mate,” he said. “Maybe ponder the stock market, or fractions, or the flight patterns of the Nigerian albatross instead.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  When Emma finally reached one of the southern entrances to Hyde Park, she turned left to slip through a broken gate which didn’t seem to shut properly, sliding her small form between its bent iron bars.

  “Damn it,” growled Roth under his breath. “She does the same thing every night, and every night I find myself wishing she wouldn’t. She needs to learn to stick to more public routes. The city’s too dangerous these days.”

  “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” asked Laird, striding forward with all the confidence of a man who doesn’t know the sensation of fear. “Let’s see to it that our future mate gets home safe.”

  Chapter 6

  The moment she’d squeezed her way through the warped iron gate, Emma began to regret her choice of route.

  She’d always known that traversing Hyde Park at night was a bad idea. The place was expansive and empty, the perfect location to get mugged by a madman, or worse. It was also illegal to enter at this hour, so at the very least she could get fined if a police officer caught her.

  The thing was, on most nights the peaceful quiet of the grounds appealed to her enough to override any worries about laws and consequences. If pushed, she might even have confessed that she enjoyed the sense of danger a little. It was a nice respite from her rather predictable work life.

  Besides, something in her often craved the crisp, cold air of a wintery London night. Perhaps it was the way the cold bit at her senses, reminding her what it was to feel something—anything—deeply.

  Of course, the men at the pub had done a fine job of reminding her of that, in no uncertain terms. By some miracle, they’d awoken parts of her anatomy that had all but gone dormant, stirred her tired heart to life. Not to mention what they’d done between her legs.

  Who needed the sting of bitter cold when two such hot specimens walked London’s streets?

  She grinned as she thought of them, her cheeks warming with the memory of Laird’s smile and Roth’s intense gaze. The men had been a balm on her soul, healing and warm, and truth be told, she couldn’t wait to return to the pub the following evening in the hopes of running into them again.

  Even so, an ugly sense of foreboding was beginning to creep through her mind and body as she advanced into the darkness of the park’s grounds. Some strange, silent, deep-down intuition had begun to insist that someone was here, lying in wait. It wasn’t someone desirable, either. Desirable people didn’t raise the hairs on the back of her neck. No, this was someone—or something—dark and grim; an invisible, elusive threat.
r />   At least that was what her overactive imagination was currently telling her.

  She reached into her handbag and jammed her keys between her fingers like a set of iron claws. They wouldn’t do much good against an assailant with a gun, of course, but guns weren’t exactly common in London. If anyone should come running at her to grab her, she could at least slash him across the face and leave a reminder that she was no shrinking violet, despite appearances to the contrary.

  “Is someone there?” she asked the chilly air, her voice timid. Her body tensing, she swung around, her eyes searching the night in the hopes of proving herself wrong.

  It worked.

  No one was there, of course. All was still. Peaceful, even. Bright moonlight reflected on the ground, distant street lights hitting the trees to cast long blue shadows across a stark white canvas of undisturbed snow.

  Okay, good, she whispered before letting out a laugh at her own expense. She reminded herself that she did the same thing almost every time she made her way through the park. The paranoia was just her overly active imagination at work; sensationalistic stories from the newspapers frightening her into a needless panic.

  Still, if she ever ran into Laird and Roth again, maybe next time she’d accept their offer to walk her home. She couldn’t imagine two more qualified bodyguards.

  Emma hummed quietly as she wandered. The nighttime landscape was more beautiful than any painting she’d ever seen, and she wished again that she’d brought the two men with her, if only in to lie the snow with her and ask them to undress her under the boughs of the trees, the moon shining down on her naked skin, her nipples peaking from the chilly air, begging for their lips.

  No, she muttered under her breath as she stepped up her pace. That would probably be the most dangerous fate imaginable. I’d end up tearing their clothes off in the middle of this place and we’d all freeze to death, stuck together like giant shards of ice.