Loved by the Alpha Wolves

by Anastasia Chase

  Three talented individuals, each responsible for a part of the job that created the wonderful music they played, and seemingly enjoying it. What was more fascinating was how they had met up in the first place. Had they these talents beforehand and decided to work together, or was it a choice they had made together so they could be in each other's company?

  My phone suddenly buzzed and shook me from my exploring. I was torn between the happy interruption and being upset that I couldn't finish the rest of my daydream. Checking my phone, I discovered it was Madeline texting me, likely not wanting to interrupt whatever I was doing after my long stint at the gym.

  >>Good news. Fat Bastards are playing next week at an outdoor music festival, so you can hear them live

  I snorted; I was never going to get used to that name not being funny.

  >>Better news: they heard your music and they want to meet you this weekend

  I almost dropped my phone on my laptop reading the message. The Fat Bastards wanted to meet me in person? Had they listened to my singing and discovered the same thing I had found out about them? Were they interested or were they going to ask me to leave so they could have this territory for themselves? I rolled over and buried my face in my pillows as I tried to come up with a good reply.

  It also helped to prevent the onset of hyperventilation, so I could keep my mind clear. Could I come up with a good enough reason to not meet them, after I had said yes? Several scenarios played through my mind on what could happen. On a positive note, if they ended up liking me, we could keep our secret and still put on a good show. We could end up friends—or something more—and continue touring together, put our hypnotizing songs together and entrance even more of the human population. If things got any better, it might be possible to form our own small pack, give up our lives here and go anywhere we wanted. That was a fool's dream since it had never been done before, but it would definitely make life the easiest for all of us.

  In the middle, nothing would happen. We would shake hands, do a few shows together, and go our separate ways once it was over. Remaining businesslike would be easy to pull off and no one would ask questions if we weren't seen together any longer.

  On the downside of things, a large fight could break out and there was no way I could take on three wolves by myself. In that scenario I would likely die, or they would chase me out of town where I would have to start over, bloody and with a bruised ego. It was this one I was most afraid of because I hadn’t made a backup plan. It would also be difficult for me to explain my sudden disappearance to anyone who knew me. I would have to dump all the friendships I had made again, look for somewhere else to live, a new job, new apartment, another means of supporting myself without giving my true nature away.

  I shuddered at the memory of being alone, and the uncontrollable feral nature of my wolf begging to come out. I had promised myself that with the life I had found, I would never put myself through that again.

  Yet, I still had to give Madeline an answer. I was going to have to hope for the best and keep my fingers crossed that the worst wasn't about to happen. I grabbed my phone and texted back.

  >>Sounds like fun. Send me the when and where and I'll be there

  After hitting send, I chucked my phone across the bed with a groan...and got a sudden hankering for ice cream.

  5

  The ice cream was definitely a bad idea last night. I felt bloated and nauseous after eating the entire pint. My personal trainer was going to be very upset when she discovered what I had done.

  Outside of the ice cream binge, however, last night was probably the worst eight hours of my life. Every five minutes, when I would feel myself dozing off, a new wave of panic would fill me and have me tossing in my bed. I couldn't get comfortable enough to make it go away, and even staying up to watch any random video on the internet hadn’t helped. I had tried reading a book, and even took another hot shower to calm my nerves. But none of it helped. Every time I closed my eyes, images of snarling teeth and dripping blood would fill my mind, and I felt the pounding of my heartbeat in my head. It had been enough to give me a headache, one that not even a couple painkillers could not take care of.

  Cut to this morning when I woke to my alarm going off and the first rays of dawn peeking through my blinds. I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep, but my foggy mind and the burning in my eyes told me that it hadn't been for very long. But I couldn't cancel now; I was going to have to make the best of the day, hope I didn't make a bad impression, and cross my fingers that none of the Fat Bastards wanted to rip my throat to shreds.

  I found my phone on the floor and quickly sent Madeline a text.

  >>Didn't sleep well, send stylist over to help me get ready

  There was no way I was going to be able to do a full face of makeup and find a decent dress in my closet with how tired my brain felt. It was better to have some help to make a great first impression.

  Sighing, I dropped my oversized t-shirt and underwear to the ground as I headed to the bathroom to start my day with another shower...no, a bath seemed better. Maybe if I soaked long enough, my nerves would calm down by then and leave me feeling a little more relaxed for the rest of the day.

  I sat by the edge of the tub, a towel around myself, as I waited for it to fill. I dumped in a healthy amount of lilac bath oil until the air of the bathroom was filled with the scent. I could already feel its calming effect by the time I slipped out of the towel and dunked myself neck-deep into the bathwater.

  This is what I should have done last night instead of a shower; my muscles were soothed by the heat and I could feel the tension melting away. Maybe I wouldn't need the stylist after all, but it was too late to text back and cancel now.

  The combination of bath oil, hot water, and my exhausted state of mind made it easy for me to slip away into a pleasant daydream. I was floating at first, in an endless sea of bottle-green water surrounded by fish darting around my body. Their silvery scales tickled my body and I swore I heard them laughing. Or was that from me? It was hard to tell in the vacuous space of water where any sound came from as it all echoed in my head and reverberated through my body. Like a song.

  The water was suddenly filled with a frothy curtain of bubbles, each gathering together until there was nothing else but. They surrounded me and carried me to the surface, where I floated on the mattress of foam. And when each bubble burst, a single note was played until it was a disharmony of noise that was chaotic but not at all unpleasant.

  A sudden hand on my shoulder spun me around and my breath was stolen by the sight of one of the Fat Bastards, Jasper. I wasn't sure what he was doing here but was filled with panic that he was here to get rid of me. Then I noticed he wore nothing but a smile, and as his arm traveled down my shoulder to my wrist, he gave my hand the gentlest tug. I slowly floated toward him, the bubbles seemingly obeying his command, until I was all but sitting on his lap. He was a stranger, but the warmth of his body against mine was enticing. I couldn't bear to pull myself away.

  His blue eyes were much brighter, being this close to him. The tattoos that covered his body seemed to dance across his skin with a mind of their own. Always shifting into something new, I gave up trying to figure out what they were and looked up in confusion. Before my lips could part, he had a finger pressed to them, as if he already knew what I was going to say.

  "You are worrying for nothing," he whispered. "You really think a guy like me is going to snap you up like a meal?" As his smile grew, so did his canines until they protruded from his lip in a Cheshire-like grin. I should have been scared and should have fought to get away. Yet something about this felt safe and inviting. It was nice to feel wanted.

  It was then that I looked down and discovered I was entirely naked, sitting across his lap like waiting for a present from Santa Claus. I tried to excuse myself and lift my body from his, but a hot vibration between my legs kept me in place. It grew, and my thighs parted slightly to see his member growing beneath me. He was a little mo
re than flaccid but not quite there.

  I gave him a questioning look, not entirely turned off by what was taking place. I got no response; instead, his lips locked with mine in a gentle but arresting kiss. I turned ever so slightly in his lap, felt his erection brushing against the back of my thigh, and I tangled my fingers in his long hair. The tip of his tongue probed my bottom lip, and they parted to grant him entry. It was warm and wet, teased at my own tongue in a gentle lapping. Tiny fireworks danced down my spine as I surrendered myself to him, my legs parting to wrap around his hips.

  Just seeing his erection had gotten me a little wet, and his passionate kiss was only increasing the flow. A slow, dull ache started to grow between my thighs in yearning. A breathless moan escaped when I finally came up for air, so desperate I was to feel every single inch of him inside me. It had been a while since I had allowed myself any kind of sexual encounter, and when I did, it was usually a solo operation.

  "Someone's a greedy little bitch..." he whispered against my throat before nipping at my skin with his teeth. The supposed term of endearment struck a chord in me and I tightened my fingers in his hair, pulled back, and gave him a playful scowl.

  "I really don't appreciate the term..."

  "Really. Even though that's what you are? A female wolf, a huntress of the night. Or are you afraid of giving in, being your true self?" He sneered back at me, his hair straining in my grasp. I was sure if I pulled any harder, some were going to come out by the root.

  His words did loosen my grip slightly, enough that he started to purr instead of wince in pain at the sensation.

  "You like being dominated, huh..." If he was going to give me this control then I had no problem with taking it. My free hand reached down between us, my fingers grazing against my sex and sliding away wet. There, I would find his erection, hard, and practically throbbing as my slicked fingers wrapped around it. His head reeled back with ecstasy, a guttural groan issuing from his throat. But I pulled lightly on his hair to keep his eyes locked with mine. I wanted to see him squirm. I wanted to see the passion fill his eyes and take him over as I worked my hand around his knob in slow, lengthy strokes. He seemed to like that too, his mouth falling open and his tongue running along his teeth.

  He shifted his hips, grinding his erection into my hand to heighten his pleasure. A gentle squeeze roused a gasp out of him.

  "Bad boy..." I purred before starting again. I was desperate to draw this out for as long as possible, to have him practically begging for me to end it and bring him to orgasm. What a sight that would be, to watch him melt before me, and hear every whimper in his throat.

  What I hadn't figured on was the returned attention to my womanhood. In my distracted state of maintaining my dominance, I had missed the crawl of his fingers down between us. The sudden cupping of my sex sent a surge of pleasure and hormones coursing through me and I almost lost all my composure in that split second. I faltered, slipping to one side of his leg and nearly falling off before I used my grip on his hair to keep me upright. He hissed but continued to smile; it was a small price to pay for catching me by surprise like that.

  His fingers deftly parted my lips, already slick and dripping, and he expertly found my clit waiting between my swollen folds. A light touch was all it took to send a spark of electricity through me, but I bit my lip to keep the keening at bay. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of surrendering to his touch, but I couldn't deny that his fingers felt like heaven. My hips instinctively rocked into his fingers to deepen the friction. My head rolled back in response, my grip on his shaft loosening slightly until my hand fell away completely. I had to have more. I had to have him now.

  A slight shift of my hips sent his fingers plunging right into me. He looked surprised at the sudden change of circumstances, his mouth pursed in a stunned "oh" as he felt me clench down on his knuckles.

  "Now you get to watch me," I hissed. Perhaps I didn't have the control that I wanted anymore, but this denial still served the same purpose. I was reaping the rewards while he got nothing in return...for the time being.

  My pace quickened slightly as I continued to rock against him. The fingering becoming deeper and more slick as my juices started to flow. I felt it practically coating my thighs and dripping to the pillowing bubbles that still surrounded us. The froth hissed and popped against us, filling the air with static that smothered my cries of ecstasy.

  "You ready for me, baby?"

  I barely registered his question, my hooded eyes barely meeting his. I didn't want to be without, I wanted to ride this from orgasm to orgasm, but I was to be disappointed. The extraction of his fingers left me empty...but I was pleasantly surprised to feel his head pressed between my thighs, his tongue lapping at my sex. I arched against him, not expecting such attention.

  His hands roamed over my thighs, clawing against my heated skin in anticipation of bringing me to that high. Raised red marks tattooed my legs, leaving them raw and tingling. His tongue worked slowly over my folds, taking in every single inch. I flushed hot then cold, my legs wrapping around his shoulders and my feet drawing him closer. I couldn't let him leave, not when his oral ministrations were working so well to leave me quivering all over.

  A pair of fingers parted my lips and he glanced up at me for one second before I felt his tongue diving into my sex. Inch by inch, I felt the wetness of his tongue sliding in and out of me, deeper and deeper until I could practically ride his face. I gasped at the sensation, watched as he worked his mouth so expertly on me.

  His hands abandoned my legs for my breasts, grabbing them in rolling squeezes until they found my nipples. Subtle pinches of my sensitive nubs had me biting my teeth at the slight twinge of pain, and I felt myself growing wetter. Which he lapped up in delight, my juices practically dripping from his face.

  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were enjoying this, Kiara," he whispered as he came up for air. The way my name sounded on his tongue was like liquid smoke, there but not, drifting on the wind until there was nothing left. I felt a small sulk growing at the corners of my mouth as he twisted my own goal against me. Now I was going to have to work for my own pleasure instead of prolonging his.

  No matter, I was fine with finding my ecstasy before him.

  My fingers dug into his shoulders as I braced myself back and gyrated against his face. He returned his kisses to my core, delivering pleasing licks and prolonged sucks that tore away the last of my resolve.

  "Nuh uh, you keep looking at me," I demanded. Our eyes locked together, his face just peeking over my mound. Such pretty blue eyes, I could lose myself in them forever. They were practically begging for the returned favor of penetration, but it was not to be. Not when I was this close to coming.

  Small swears slipped from between my lips as I continued to ride his face, sweet nothings mixed with vulgar suggestions of what I wanted to do with his body. Soon, once I had found a good, steady rhythm to work with, my thighs burning all the while, his hands gripped my rump and worked me even deeper against his mouth. I shuddered in his grip and felt the inevitable rise of my libido as the beginnings of my orgasm started to tingle through my body. My nipples became more pert, almost to the point of aching. His massaging of my breasts did little to satiate the ache, the flesh rolling in his palms, heaving with every one of my gyrations.

  A spark behind my eyes...my brain going numb...I was...I was–

  My eyes shot open and I was returned to the world of my simple hot bath, which was now slowly growing cold. The tingling sensation between my legs bordered on an ache and if I'd had the time, I would have taken care of it. A quick glance at my phone nearby, however, told me that I had already wasted too much time on my impromptu daydream.

  Flush from both the heat and the wet dream I had just experienced, I lathered myself up and rinsed off before climbing out, determined to get the imagery out of my mind before I met these men. I couldn't deny that the dream had left me feeling a lot more relaxed. But I was reminded I was going to
have to remain professional for the time being, until I could determine what their motives were.

  But later tonight...after it was all said and done...I definitely wanted to explore that dream a little further...

  "Are you still in the bath, Miss James?" I heard from the other room. It was my stylist and I hadn't heard her come in.

  "Just getting out! Sorry, I should be there in a moment. Could you pick out a few simple things for me? That's all I will need today, thanks." I started toweling myself off and wrapped up my hair to get rid of most of the moisture.

  "I brought my makeup over if you wanted a touch of that too." I could hear her rummaging around my closet, and I pondered on what she planning on putting together.

  "No, I should be fine with that, thanks. I'm just doing some simple lipstick and blush."

  "Don't want to overdo it, huh."

  "Not really, no. Come in too heavy-handed and I'd scare some men away."

  I heard her snort in response as I smeared lotion on my legs and arms. I brushed my teeth and got some deodorant on before exiting the bathroom. By the time I was done and out, the stylist was already gone. The smell of something warm and salty filled the air and I spied the small breakfast she had brought for me on the table. I was going to have to give her a nice tip.

  In my towel, I marveled at the outfits she had laid out for me: one was a dark blue pants suit coupled with a white button-up shirt underneath; another was a knee-length, floral yellow and peach skirt and a flowing white blouse on top; the third was a simple pair of jeans and a green sleeveless silk shirt with an intricate floral brocade across the front along with a denim jacket.

  My legs were still quivering as I sat on the bed, trying to focus my mind on the decision I had to make rather than the experience I had just had in the bathroom. The pants suit seemed too stuffy, while the denim ensemble seemed too casual. The blouse and skirt seemed like the perfect selection for the warm, spring month, a good choice for an excellent pair of yellow heels I had purchased a few months ago. I slipped the clothes on and it all felt marvelous against my skin, hugging my curves in just the right areas before billowing out to hide the rest. These boys would be a mystery to me, so it was only fair that I played the same game. Draw them in with a little intrigue if I needed to or keep myself guarded if things didn't turn out for the best. The less they knew about me, the better.