by M H Soars
Keeping the rhythm steady, Dante lowers his body again, covering my mouth with his and swallowing all my moans. I brush his elongated sharp teeth with my tongue, and that shoots another zing of pleasure down my body, straight to my core. As much as I’d like to prolong this torture, I can’t fight the surge. My body shatters, my mind losing grip on reality as the wave of pleasure takes over. I hear a wolf howling in the background. After a moment, I realize I’m the one making that noise. The notion doesn’t scare or bother me. Instead, it gives me power. It makes me want to really let go. Surrender to my new wild side.
In a swift motion—one I hadn’t known I was capable of—I switch positions with Dante, forcing him to his back so I can ride him. He doesn’t seem surprised by my action, nor does he stop pumping into me from this new angle. Gripping my hips, he continues moving, completely lost in the moment. I begin to move in sync with him, feeling the tension building up again. I’ve never had multiple orgasms before, but there’s no doubt this is happening. I could honestly come just by watching Dante’s sexy expression as he fucks me. His face is flushed, his ember eyes are glowing, and the tips of his canines are showing through his partially opened lips.
Getting swept away by a crazy impulse, I offer the underside of my forearm to him. “Bite me.”
He doesn’t stop—doesn’t ask questions—just clamps his jaw around my arm, sinking his teeth into my skin hard enough to fill me with indescribable pleasure, not pain. I throw my head back, howling again as I’m hit with another orgasm, more intense than the one before. Dante pumps his hips faster, his cock becoming even larger inside of me, before he releases my arm to let out a string of curses. His entire body trembles as he rides his orgasm, and it might be my imagination, but it seems to last longer than with most guys.
Once the grip on my hips eases and Dante’s body stops moving, I rest my hands on his sweat-covered chest, dropping my head. My leg muscles are mush and my sex is throbbing from all the pounding, but despite that, I’d be game if he asked me to do it all over again right this second. I’m not sure if that’s wolf stamina or if it’s the Dante effect. Maybe both.
He wraps his arms around my back, then rolls me off him, pulling me closer to his body. When he drops a kiss on the top of my head, I snuggle deeper to rest my head on his chest, making lazy circles over it with the tip of my fingers as I wait for my heartbeat to return to normal. His is pounding at warp speed, just like mine.
“Is it always like this among wolves?” I ask.
“What is?”
“Earth-shattering, world-tilted-off-its-axis kind of sex?”
Dante laughs, hugging me tighter. “I’m sure it feels a little more intense than what you’re used to, but the answer is no. That was a new experience for me, too.”
I lean on my elbow, peering into his face. “Really?”
His stares intently at me, his eyes still infused with lust. “Yeah,” he answers with a voice so loaded with need that it makes me all hot and bothered again.
My eyes switch to his cheek. The blood on it is already dry, with no sign of any scar. “You’re healed.” I touch his skin to make sure.
“Yes, I am.”
His serious tone makes me look into his eyes once more, and I immediately know he’s referring to more than just the scratches on his face. I feel a clench in my chest, followed by an overflow of emotions that are intense and a little scary. Leaning against his chest again, I hide my face from his view. I don’t want Dante to read the fear in my eyes. What we did here will have repercussions, and I can’t show weakness when the time to face those consequences comes.
I couldn’t have imagined I’d have to do it so soon, though. A loud knock on Dante’s door, followed by Tristan’s voice calling out for his brother, has me sitting up on the bed faster than lightning, pulling the sheet with me to cover my body. Why did the consequences have to be delivered by Mr. Asshole?
Chapter 19
Red
“Fuck.” Dante rubs his face before he swings his legs to the side of the bed and gets up.
“Why is your brother here?” I follow him, still wrapped in the satin sheet, which is stupid since I just slept with the guy.
Ignoring my questions, Dante asks, “What do you want, Tristan?”
“To piss all over your party, naturally,” Samuel answers this time. Fuck me. Both brothers are out there? Why?
“You guys are a pain in my ass.” Dante picks up his jeans from the floor, getting dressed in brusque movements, not bothering to put his boxer shorts on. Partially dressed, he takes a step toward the door, freezing suddenly to look over his shoulder, as if he just remembered I’m there.
“You’d better get dressed, too,” he whispers, then he mouths the words, “I’m sorry.”
He is sorry. I can see the sincere apology shining in his eyes, but it doesn’t change the way I’m feeling, which is a little, I don’t know, dejected.
I put my clothes back on as fast as I can. Once I’m dressed, I finger comb my hair, trying to get rid of the tangles. I’m still busy with the task when Dante opens the door for his brothers. Tristan stalks in first, his senses on high alert as if he’s smelling an ambush. His nostrils flare, his spine going taut a moment later. He whips his face to me, his gaze sharp and menacing before he turns on Dante.
“What have you done?”
Samuel whistles as he enters the studio. His eyes linger on me for a second as he gives me a half smile, but there’s no joy in his gaze.
“Do you really have to ask?” he says. “You could smell what was going on here from miles away.” He smirks at Dante, but it feels more cold than amused. “Boy, you really didn’t waste any time.”
“Piss off, Sam.” Dante crosses his arms, glaring at his brothers.
“Was that your plan when you volunteered to prepare Amelia for the fight tomorrow? To fuck her?” Tristan barks, making me wince.
That wasn’t what happened here, and the fact Mr. Asshole is throwing accusations without any information is making me see red.
“Why do you care about what happened between Dante and me?” I take a step in his direction, practically blowing steam from my nose. Tristan opens his stupid mouth, but I cut him off. “Spare me the spiel that Dante is a beta, and I’m only a worthless omega.”
“Omegas aren’t worthle—” Samuel begins to say, but I whip around to him, glaring so hard he pipes down.
“Red is not a true omega,” Dante replies. “And even if she were, it wouldn’t matter at all. It’s not like I’m set to be an alpha. It’s pretty much a given that the honor will go to you; isn’t it, brother?”
I don’t miss the bitterness in Dante’s tone, nor the way Tristan reacts to his brother’s statement. His scowl morphs into an expression I can only describe as regretful, and I’m totally unprepared for it. It’s almost like he either doesn’t want the role, or feels guilty that the pack will choose him. The fact he does care about Dante’s feelings shows me he’s not a complete asshole like I pegged him to be. But I still don’t like him.
“Hey, slow down for a second.” Samuel raises both hands, edging in between his brothers. “Tristan becoming the new alpha is not a sure thing. But I’m going to side with him that you sleeping with Red right before she has to fight Rochelle was not a smart move, Dante.”
“Hey!” I yell, forcing the three men to look at me. “Quit talking about me as if I’m not in the room. I chose to sleep with Dante. It wasn’t his decision alone. If you’re all going to butt into my business, let me assure you that I fucking loved it. If he wants to do it again, I’m game.”
My confession drops like a bomb in the tense room. Dante’s eyebrows shoot to the heavens while the corners of his lips twitch upward. Samuel’s jaw drops right before he crosses his arms and frowns. Tristan’s expression is the most predictable one. He looks like he’s sucking a sour grape while having an aneurism at the same time.
“Your disregard for pack rules is appalling,” Tristan replies with unveiled
contempt.
“Is there really a rule set in stone? Did your father know that your mother would become a female alpha before she turned? Do you think he would have discarded her if she weren’t up to snuff?”
My question seems to penetrate his thick skull. He breaks the staring contest first, glancing at the floor and rubbing his face.
Samuel comes closer, and I eye him with suspicion. His eyes are widely innocent, but the grin curling his lips tells me he’s up to something.
“Man, I never stopped to think about that. You just made an excellent point, Red.” He throws an arm around my shoulder, then squeezes it a little. “It makes it easy to forgive you for jumping into bed with Dante first.”
“First?” I step out of his embrace.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, then shrugs. “Well, it’s only a matter of time before you succumb to my charms.”
“Oh my God.” Dante rolls his eyes, then looks up at the ceiling.
“Did you just proposition me in front of your brother? What do you think this is? A gang-bang?” I try to sound appalled, but the idea of sleeping with Samuel—or even sharing a bed with him and Dante at the same time—doesn’t sound horrible at all. I wonder if this lack of restraint when it comes to sex is a wolf thing or I’m just now realizing I’ve always been a nympho.
Samuel places a hand over his chest, faking distress. “I’d never suggest that.”
“So, sharing the same woman is something wolves do? I always thought they were loyal animals.”
Dante and Samuel exchange a glance, and Tristan makes a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “What? Am I missing something here?”
“Actually, wolves are not into sharing, but…” Dante stops, clamping his mouth shut as if he’s debating whether to continue.
“But what?” I place my hands on my hips, frowning as I wait for him to spill the beans.
“You should show her the painting, Dante,” Samuel replies.
“Oh, please. That painting means nothing.” Tristan shows us his back, morphing into his antagonistic armor.
“What painting?” I swing my gaze between the brothers, frustrated no one seem inclined to give me any answers.
“Dante has inherited our mother’s gift of foresight. But his visions manifest in art form,” Samuel finally replies.
“I want to see that painting. Where is it?”
Dante lets out a heavy sigh before he replies, “Downstairs, in the garage. But Red, I swear that what happened here had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re making me nervous. Why don’t you just show me the damn painting already?”
After a brusque nod, he veers to the front door. I follow Dante out and down the stairs, knowing Samuel and Tristan are close behind me. Dante stops in front one of the garage doors, then punches a code into the security panel mounted on the wall. A soft beep sounds before the metal door begins to lift. The light switches on automatically when he walks in, revealing a myriad of colorful canvases in all sizes and shapes. My jaw slackens as I take in Dante’s brilliant artwork. They’re mesmerizing. So vivid, raw, and full energy. So him. Some of the images seem like they’re going to leap off the canvases at any moment. I recognize his signature style, realizing the paintings at the alpha’s manor are his.
Dante keeps heading toward the back of the room, where a canvas as tall as him and twice as wide is propped against the wall. A white sheet covers the art beneath, and anticipation gnaws at my insides. My heartbeat has increased tenfold. Whatever vision is painted on the canvas will change my perspective on this new life for good—I know it in my bones. Maybe I’ve been blessed with the sight, too. Just great.
Dante spares me one final glance before pulling the sheet down. My stomach bottoms out, my legs becoming so weak I’m afraid I’m going to fall to the floor in a heap. I’m staring at a surrealistic, messy, colorful painting of me dressed in a red gown, surrounded by three white wolves. A crown made from wildflowers adorns my head. I don’t need the sight to guess those three wolves are Dante, Samuel, and Tristan.
“What does that mean?” I ask in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Dante replies, staring at his painting as well.
“No one knows. It could be anything.” Tristan throws a meaningful glance in Samuel’s direction, and I immediately want to know what he’s thinking.
“You’re hiding stuff from me, and that’s terribly unfair. I’m in the middle of that painting for crying out loud. My grandmother knew I would be attacked by a rogue wolf that night. She sent me to the forest for that reason. I don’t understand why I had to become a wolf, and now this?” I point at the painting. “Does that mean I’m supposed to mate with all three of you?”
Dante swallows hard, eyes on the painting again. Tristan just clenches his jaw tight, grinding his teeth in the process, and stares at the floor. Samuel is the only one who holds my gaze.
“It’s a possibility.”
“A very small possibility,” Tristan grunts, arms now folded almost defensively in front of his chest.
“Well, I don’t want to be your mate!” I snap at him, hating how he always seem to think I’m the scum of the earth, unworthy of his attention. Fucker.
“It would explain why I didn’t feel like ripping Sam’s head off for even suggesting you hook up with him.” Dante still carries an undecipherable glint in his eyes as he takes me in. “Wolves never share.”
“Well, you’re forgetting the legend of the Mother of Wolves,” Samuel chimes in.
“What’s that?”
“There’s a story that talks about the first female alpha.” Tristan moves closer to the painting, but keeps his distance from me. “She never took a consort. Ruled the pack alone. Mind you, there’s never been any proof that she actually existed.”
“Legend says she had many lovers, and despite a wolf’s territorial nature, none of her wolves minded sharing.” Samuel bumps his elbow against my arm. “Not a bad deal, huh?” He flashes me a sinfully sexy grin.
“I don’t think I could ever have more than one lover at a time.”
As I watch Samuel’s smile wilt to nothing, I feel bad for lying to him. I do think I’m capable having more than one guy in my life. If he really tried, I wouldn’t resist him. Does that make me a whore? I hate how my mixed feelings toward the Wolfe brothers have me questioning my own morals. Or is it modern society morals? Way back when men were nomads and the society was matriarchal, a woman having multiple consorts was the norm. Actually, it was encouraged.
Samuel recovers his humor fast, though. Glancing at Dante, he says, “That’s too bad, bro. Once Red has a taste of the Sam machine, she won’t go back to you.”
I roll my eyes, but manage to stop the smile that was blossoming on my lips when I catch Tristan’s furious gaze aimed at me. My humor changes violently, anger taking control. “Why are you glowering? Do you think I planned this? What—you think I made Dante dream up that painting?” I scoff.
“No, I don’t think you’re that powerful, but you seem too eager to embrace what that image represents. So, you think you can rule the pack alone?”
“What? What kind of logic is that?” I ask, genuinely perplexed by Tristan’s insinuations.
“You’re not throwing a hissy fit, demanding to return to your old life. We pretty much told you that you might have to mate with all three of us, but you don’t seem too repulsed by the idea despite the fact you seem to despise me.”
Balling my hands into fists, I stride toward him. The wolf’s essence churns inside me, but I have a better handle on it now. I’m not going to shift unless I want to. I stop in front of him, not letting the sheer size difference between us intimidate me.
“Have you ever stopped to consider that if I’m actually the female alpha, I can simply kill you if I wish?”
Tristan bares his elongated canines while a terrifying growl emanates from deep within his throat. “Is that a threat?”
“You bet your ass it is.”
/> He leans down, his nose now almost touching mine. Tingles run down my spine, and they’re not related to my anger or the adrenaline kicking. My fucking body is betraying me, Goddamn it.
“Survive your challenge with Rochelle, and I’ll let you have a go at me. Bear in mind that if we fight, I won’t be merciful.”
“Wasn’t counting on it,” I reply through clenched teeth, while in the back of my head, my sanity is screaming at me to shut up.
Tristan eases away, then swings around to march out of the garage. My breathing is completely out of sync, as if I’ve just ran a marathon.
“Fuck. You’re crazy, Red.” Samuel stares in bemusement at the door Tristan just vanished through.
Dante grabs my arm, spinning me around. A panicked glint shines in his eyes. “Do you realize what you just did?” He shakes me a little. “Do you?”
“Let go of me.” I pull my arm from his grasp, rubbing away the sore spot. Dante begins to pace like a maniac, gripping his hair and pulling at it. “Why are you freaking out?”
Samuel glances at me like I’ve asked the most idiotic thing in the world. “Hmm, let’s see. You threatened to kill the second strongest wolf in the entire pack, then you accepted his challenge to fight to the death. I think that pretty much sums everything up.”
I open my mouth, but no sound comes forth. Now that I replay that scene, I realize Samuel summarized my fuck up perfectly. Unless I have some secret weapon I don’t know about, I’m completely screwed… and not in a good way.
Chapter 20
Red
It’s no surprise that I couldn’t sleep for shit last night. I kept tossing and turning in the king-sized bed. Despite being extremely comfortable, it still felt like a stranger’s bed. But that wasn’t the reason sleep eluded me. I kept replaying all the events from the day, which were many. The altercation with Rochelle that resulted in a fight with the woman today. Then me sleeping with Dante and everything else that followed: the painting’s revelation, Tristan’s animosity, and ultimately, me challenging him. I really ought to learn how to keep my mouth shut around these wolves, or I won’t survive to see the end of the summer.