Desperate for Her Wolves

by West, Tara

  Thrusting her hips at him, she grabbed the back of his head, forcing him to dive deeper. Pleasure spiraled through her, wrapping her in love’s cocoon as all her worries melted away.

  With every plunge of his tongue, every swirl of his finger, a powerful climax built, carrying her higher and higher toward that precipice of ecstasy.

  When he slipped his tongue out, lapping up her juices, she swore and grabbed his hair.

  “Easy.” Her essence on his lips, he brushed his mouth across hers. Then he stood. “My turn.”

  They changed places, and she took him in her mouth. She sucked with wild abandon, slurping up and down his thick shaft until he begged her to stop. But she couldn’t. She needed his release as badly as he did.

  Gripping her hair by the roots, he swore, shooting off in her mouth like a rocket. She drank him and then rinsed her mouth in the shower.

  He slumped against the tile with a lazy grin and reached for her. “Your turn,” he said.

  The door opened and Luc stepped in, his cock pointed at her. He sat on the bench beside Drasko and pulled her into his lap. She straddled him, kissing his forehead, nose, lips, drinking him in like she’d been stranded in the desert and he was a cool glass of water.

  He returned her attention with a long, languid kiss. My brave, sweet mate.

  He helped her onto his thick cock. Still primed from Drasko, her wet sheath hugged him tight, so tight that she winced when he thrust into her. She held onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth, and she let him take control of her, smacking that bundle of nerves so hard, she thought she’d die from the painful pleasure. This climax was not gentle or sweet. It was angry and powerful, robbing her of breath and holding her in its dark clutches. She begged Luc to stop, but he fucked her harder, giving her one orgasm after another. He claimed her, their wet bodies slapping together until he roared his release. Boneless, she let Drasko and Luc dry her off. Then they carried her to bed, laying her in Hakon’s arms. Pressing against his erection, she pulled Rone close, kissing him while Hakon speared her slick folds from behind with thick fingers. She draped a leg across Rone’s hip, giving Hakon easier access. He stroked her tenderly, until she was dripping. Then he fucked her from the rear while Rone toyed with her breasts and clit. This orgasm was much more gentle and so very sweet. She breathed through each wave of pleasure, her heartrate slowing when Hakon came.

  No sooner had he slipped out of her than Rone rolled her onto her back and entered her, making love to her with tender care. He took his time getting her to another climax. She was pleased and impressed with Rone’s self-control. He didn’t come until she did, groaning into her mouth, his cockhead throbbing in time with her climax.

  She sank into the mattress while her mates cleaned her. Then they gave her a full-body massage, relaxing every burning, tense muscle with oiled hands. She was almost asleep when she smelled Drasko’s desire as he rubbed her thighs. She opened her eyes and saw his erection.

  Spreading her legs, she held out her arms to him. “Make love to me again.”

  He grinned. “If you insist.”

  They pleasured each other well into the night. When she finally snuggled in Hakon’s arms, she sent a silent prayer to the Ancients, thanking them for keeping her family safe.

  Epilogue

  Alexi’s crib rattled as he cried for his mother. Amara scooped the baby into her arms and kissed his forehead, then gave him her breast before he started shaking the floorboards again.

  Luckily his earthshaking powers weren’t strong yet, but who knew how long it would be before his tantrum knocked all the pictures off the walls?

  She draped a blanket over her shoulder and took him down to the kitchen. Snatching a gingerbread cookie off a tray, she gave her bunica a thank you kiss and followed the sounds of music and laughter down to the basement den. She sat on the sofa, beaming at Rone when he set a steaming cup of apple cider on the table in front of her. Snuggling with Alexi, she watched her cousins, Roy and Annie, make the room festive by hanging popcorn strings and garlands.

  Takaani had been forced to change her name back to Annie. Johnson had insisted she cast aside her lone wolf identity after the “disappearance” of her boss. Johnson had even given her a new ID and birth certificate, making her Annie Thunderfoot. Amara secretly preferred calling her Annie anyway. She’d rather remember her cousin as a cute little girl in pigtails, who’d spent so many Christmas mornings with her at their grandparent’s farm, instead of the lone wolf who was forced to flee for her life. Annie’s mates hadn’t made themselves known yet, but the Alaskan Amaroki were hosting a spring festival, where wolves from all over the world would gather. Annie was sure to find her mates then, but she seemed in no rush. She kept herself busy by helping Amara and Rone with the babies and dogs.

  She smiled at the dogs, who’d curled up beside the warm fire. There were seven in all, counting Mihaela’s two pooches, and they all got along well. Mako fit right in with Buster and Max, assuming the role as alpha. He had a commanding presence that encouraged other dogs to follow his lead. She hoped the husky wouldn’t lead them into wolverine dens.

  She couldn’t begin to describe the joy in her heart at spending Christmas time with her extended family. Though Christmas wasn’t a traditional Amaroki holiday, the shifters couldn’t resist the urge to decorate a tree, buy each other presents, and host a big family dinner. Amara was especially happy her fathers had brought Bunica and Bunic Anton with them to help celebrate.

  Roy dropped his garland when thunderous booms were heard outside. The top end of a pine tapped the sliding glass door, and Roy opened it, then flattened himself against a wall when Hakon and Drasko, both in protector form, hauled a massive tree inside.

  “Where do you want this?” Hakon asked, ducking under the overhead beams.

  “In the corner by the window,” Amara said, then out of force of habit, she checked on her cousin to make sure he wasn’t frightened.

  Roy didn’t seem troubled in the slightest as he helped Tatiana decorate, acting as if celebrating Christmas in a den of shapeshifters was totally normal. As a matter of fact, he got along so well with her mates, he’d accepted a job with the feds. Roy now worked directly under Johnson and was in training to take over his job should Johnson ever become seriously ill again. Amara and the rest of the Alaskan Amaroki breathed easier, knowing Johnson’s replacement wasn’t a bigoted asshole.

  She supervised while Hakon and Drasko positioned the tree as if it weighed no more than a sausage roll. By the time they finished setting it up, Alexi was on the other breast and getting sleepy. He’d barely made a dent in her milk supply, which was a good thing, because Hrod still hadn’t weaned, and he’d be hungry when he woke from his nap. Odd how she didn’t resent being a dairy cow. She enjoyed bonding with her babies and she wasn’t ready to let them grow up.

  Hakon and Drasko patted each other on the back for a job well done and then stomped outside, leaving a trail of pine needles and clumps of snow in their wake.

  After she put her infant in a cradle beside the sofa, she stood, stretching cramped muscles. Then she helped Rone clean up before joining her cousins, drinking cider and singing Christmas songs while they unstrung lights for the tree.

  The laughter and music died down when Tatiana came downstairs. She had a way of dampening the mood of others. She plopped in a bean bag in front of the flat-screen TV and opened a book, ignoring everyone, as was her new habit.

  “Would you like to help us decorate, Tatiana?” Amara asked.

  “Not really.” She didn’t bother looking up from her book.

  Amara’s alpha father, Boris, came downstairs, her father-in-law Skoll right behind him.

  Skoll scowled at his daughter. “Tatiana, go help.”

  She flipped a page, refusing to make eye contact with him. “I said I didn’t want to.”

  Amara swallowed back a knot of panic when Skoll’s face reddened.

  “It’s no biggie, Skoll.” Amara forced a smile. “My c
ousins and I got it.”

  Skoll stormed outside. When she heard several booms from the back deck, she knew he’d shifted into protector mode. Heavy thuds, followed by a roar, shook the wood floors under her feet.

  Tatiana didn’t even flinch as she turned another page, seemingly oblivious to her father’s tantrum. Amara shared a look with Rone before digging ornaments out of the box labeled “Christmas Supplies.”

  When Boris sidled up to her, she held her breath. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to talk about Eilea.

  “Did you invite the Johnsons?” he asked casually.

  She sighed. “Yes, Father. Eilea said they probably wouldn’t be able to make it.”

  Though her fathers had been especially attentive the past few days, she suspected the main reason they’d come to Alaska was to check on Eilea. They were still in official mourning period, but that didn’t stop them from badgering Amara about the doctor.

  His shoulders fell. “Did you tell her we agreed to be on our best behavior?”

  “I did.” She didn’t want to give her fathers false hope, but Eilea did occasionally ask about them. The doctor tried to be subtle, but Amara wasn’t fooled. Eilea cared about them. If only there was a way to get them together again.

  Eilea had already told Amara more times than she could count that their relationship would never work. She’d never move to Romania and “breed a litter of puppies.” Eilea insisted Amara’s fathers would never get over the loss of Katarina, and there was no way she was playing second-best mate. She wanted to tell Eilea that Katarina had been a hateful bitch, that they were probably mourning out of guilt, but that wasn’t her story to tell. Her fathers would have to make things right with Eilea, not her.

  “Eggnog, anyone?” Arvid, Rone’s birth father, asked, coming downstairs bearing a tray of cookies surrounded by mugs of eggnog.

  Tatiana flipped another page, her attention locked on her book. “I’d rather swallow my own vomit.”

  “Mojitos?” Rone asked, casting Arvid an apologetic look as he grabbed a metal shaker from behind the bar.

  Tatiana finally set down the book, the slightest grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Sounds better.”

  Skoll returned, having shifted back into a human and wearing nothing but tattered jeans and an unbuttoned vest. “Tatiana is not drinking alcohol.”

  She scowled. “Why not?”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “You know why.”

  She threw down her book, crossing her arms with a pout. “Why did you make me come if I can’t even enjoy myself?”

  “Moping in the corner and ignoring everyone is your idea of enjoyment?”

  “Come upstairs, Tatiana.” Annie dropped her garland and held out a hand. “We can help Bunica with the cookies.”

  Tatiana heaved a groan before accepting her hand and following her upstairs. Never wanting to be far from his sister, Roy followed them, too. Then Mako and his entourage chased after them.

  Skoll turned to Rone with a hopeless look in his eyes. “When do you think she’ll stop moping?”

  Rone frowned. “I’m starting to think she’ll never stop.”

  A shadow darkened Amara’s heart. Tatiana had been like this for the past six months. The poor girl blamed herself for Katarina’s death, and nothing anyone said would convince her otherwise. With each passing day, the cloud of depression hovering over her seemed to grow. She’d shut everyone out, including Amara’s brothers, Tatiana’s fated mates. She refused to set a date for their bonding ceremony. The only thing that brought her any sort of enjoyment was reading, and not sweet romances or comedies either, but dark, gory fiction.

  Sitting on the sofa, Amara palmed her cider mug. “She has a very heavy heart.” She fetched a cookie off the tray Arvid had set on the coffee table, absently chewing while leaning into Rone.

  “None of us blame her for what happened to Katarina.” Boris sat across from Amara, the lines framing his eyes and mouth deepening. “We’ve told her so many times, and so have our sons.”

  “It doesn’t matter if Tatiana refuses to forgive herself,” Rone said, rocking Alexi’s cradle.

  “She needs time to heal,” Amara said, though she feared she’d be making excuses for Tatiana forever if she didn’t snap out of it soon. She badly wanted to help her sister-in-law get through this.

  “Why don’t you try to relieve her burden?” Boris asked.

  Magic tickled her fingers at the thought. “She won’t let me. She said she deserves to feel sorrow.”

  Boris stood with a groan. “Then I will try talking to her again.”

  “Good luck,” Amara said as he, Skoll, and Arvid went upstairs.

  Amara heard her alpha mates talking outside. They’d shifted back into men and were shaking snow off their boots. She was glad Hakon had come home for Christmas. He’d gone back to work a few months earlier, but there had been some changes. Every employee who’d stormed the reservation soon found themselves either out of work or off Hakon’s rotation. Skunk was serving hard time for a home full of unlicensed weapons, illegal drugs, and also for credit card fraud and theft. After his crazy outburst in the courtroom about “demon eyes,” he’d been deemed unsafe for society and spent most of his time in solitary confinement. She hoped he stayed locked up a long time. She wouldn’t put it past the crazy fool to threaten her family should he ever be released.

  The back door slid open, and Hakon peeked inside. “Where is everyone?”

  “Upstairs.” She laced her fingers through Rone’s. “Cheering up your sister.”

  Drasko tiptoed inside and picked up Alexi, holding him close, his mouth hitched up in a proud, fatherly grin. “I don’t understand it. Katarina was the world’s biggest bitch.”

  “Drasko, please.” She cringed. The Amaroki believed calling to the spirits of their dead ancestors could bring them back from beyond the veil. Growing up, she had never been into superstition or religion, but that was before meeting Amaroki gods and witnessing werewolf zombies try to kill her mate. She wouldn’t put it past Katarina to haunt them from beyond the grave.

  Drasko put Alexi back in his cradle and knelt beside Amara, feathering kisses across her palm. “I like the way you beg.”

  She snatched her hand away, ignoring the ache of desire between her legs. “Not now, you big, bad wolf.”

  The upstairs door opened, and Luc came downstairs, holding Hrod. “Look who’s awake.”

  “Well, hello.” She held out her arms, and Luc handed her the groggy toddler. “Did you have a nice nap?”

  Sucking his thumb, he buried his face against her shoulder. He was not fully awake, which meant she had a small window of time to cuddle him before he crawled down from her lap in search of trouble. When Hrod tried lifting her shirt, she gave him her breast, noting how her mates looked at Hrod as if he was the luckiest baby in the world.

  Hakon knelt beside Drasko and pulled something from his pocket. “Look what we found outside.”

  She blushed as he dangled a twig and leaves over her head. “Mistletoe?”

  He flashed a wolfish grin. “My favorite human tradition.”

  She stretched up for a kiss, thinking she could get away with a peck on the cheek. With a growl, he cupped her cheeks in his cold hands, deepening the kiss. Then he handed around the mistletoe, and she took turns kissing each brother. By the time she’d ended with Rone, she was breathless and so damn horny.

  If only her family wasn’t upstairs and her baby wasn’t attached to her breast. She looked at Rone through half-lidded eyes. “Mm. I love mistletoe.”

  Hakon dug around in his pants pocket and handed her a small red box topped with a silver bow. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

  She took it from him. “What is this?”

  “We wanted to give it to you on Christmas,” Luc said, “but we’re not sure we’ll get another opportunity to be alone with you.”

  “Plus we were hoping for some thank you sex later,” Rone said with a wink.
<
br />   She rolled her eyes. “You’ll get sex anyway.”

  “Yes.” Rone eagerly nodded and licked his lips. “But thank you sex is better.”

  Because her arms were full, she handed the box to Luc, who opened it with his switchblade. He pulled out a jewelry box and popped the lid, pulling out a silver charm bracelet with two small wolves dangling from the links.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed, excitedly holding out a wrist.

  “We’ll get you another charm for each baby,” Luc said while Hakon fastened the clasp.

  She beamed at her tracker. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me neither.” Luc growled.

  Luc had just returned from a two-month mission, and Amara couldn’t get enough of his kisses and love. She hoped she’d bloom soon for him, just not too soon. Her poor boobs couldn’t handle another baby.

  Amara thanked the Ancients every day for her loving family and for their warm, peaceful home. She also thanked them for Luc’s safe return, prayed that she and her mates would have many more wonderful days together, and that the rest of her extended family would find their happiness, too. Each and every one of them deserved it.

  The End.

  PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO my newsletter at www.tarawest.com for updates on Eilea’s story, Tempted by Her Wolves: Hungry for Her Wolves Book Four, March 2018. My newsletter subscribers get free downloads of a selection of my books. Read on for a sample of my panty-melting PNR comedy, Divine and Dateless.

  Divine and Dateless

  Eternally Yours, Book One

  Tara West

  Dear readers, I hope you are enjoying reading about the Thunderfoots. Eilea’s story continues with Tempted by Her Wolves, March 2018. Read on for a sample of Divine and Dateless, Book One in my completed, panty-melting PNR Eternally Yours Series.

  Chapter One

  Damn, that hurt.