Dire Wolves of London

by Carina Wilder

  But she didn’t need anyone else.

  They were enough.

  They were everything.

  As she lifted one paw off the ground at a time, a growing clarity expanded inside her mind. Animals were incapable of lying, incapable of constructing realities that didn’t exist. All her Lioness knew was the truth.

  And the truth was that Sinead loved those two men. She’d loved Brigg the moment he’d walked into her cell, his kind eyes staring down at her with concern and care. Even as she’d called him a traitor, accused him of betraying his own kind, she’d known it to be a lie. She’d known that he had only ever wanted to help her, to save her from a cruel fate, and to offer her a new one with him.

  She’d loved Cillian the moment she’d seen him lay his arms on top of the car, the moment he’d turned her way, sizing her up with those piercing eyes of his.

  Now she loved them as one loves one’s own flesh. When she was near them, they surrounded her with a strength that felt real and right. They were everything she’d ever dared to want in the world, and so much more than that. She’d begun to understand that they were the part of her that she’d been missing all her life. The part that gave her comfort, that made her feel wanted, for the first time since her birth.

  For the first time, too, she knew what it was that she wanted.

  When she reached the centre of the maze she came upon the broad stone circle embedded in the ground. She padded towards its centre and lay down. Pressing her muzzle down between her front paws, she stared up towards the house. From here she could see its slate rooftop in the distance. She closed her eyes, wondering silently if this could truly be the home she’d always wanted.

  But the truth was that she already knew the answer.

  She just wasn’t sure if she deserved it.

  23

  An hour or more had passed when Sinead’s nose picked up the scent of two Dire Wolves. She was still in her Lioness’s form, relaxed and content, a cool afternoon breeze stroking its way through her fur. The potential of seeing the men’s déors sent a shimmer of excitement down her spine.

  The first to show himself was Cillian, who padded around the corner into the clearing at a slow, smooth trot. He was dark grey, his eyes light blue and alert. When he saw the Lioness, he skulked towards her slowly, head down. It was a sign of quiet submission. He wanted her to know that he meant her no harm.

  But then, she knew it already.

  His shoulders were as high as the top of the hedge, his head larger than that of a draft horse. Despite his size, he moved gracefully, his paws seeming to float just above the grass. Sinead’s Lioness stared at him, awestruck by his power and beauty.

  Brigg made his way into the clearing a few seconds later at a slow walk. His Wolf was even larger, his back slightly higher than the top rim of the maze. He, too, was dark in colour; almost black, his eyes the all but impossibly light colour of an arctic lake.

  The Lioness pulled herself up to a sitting position, her keen eyes moving from one Wolf to the other as they approached. She could have sat there for the rest of the day, staring at them, her gold eyes examining each inch of their frames. But instead she shifted into human form and rose to her feet. For some reason, she wanted nothing more right now than to feel the Wolves’ fur under her fingertips.

  Seeming to understand, Cillian stepped forward first, pressing his enormous nose towards her. She reached out a hand and stroked it over his cheek. The tears that gathered in her eyes might have embarrassed her under other circumstances, but just now she chose not to wipe them away. Let them see how I feel, she thought. Let them see what they mean to me, just for a moment.

  Brigg moved towards her next, and she reached out to touch his side, stroking the coarse fur gently. He twisted his head around to look into her eyes, panting slowly, his sides heaving. He didn’t pull away from her touch, didn’t resist. It seemed that whatever had happened between them last night had sealed their bond, at least for the moment.

  “You two are incredible,” she murmured. “Thank you for showing yourselves to me.”

  Brigg backed away after a moment and shifted. He smiled at her, a sympathetic smile, one that told her that he knew how she was feeling.

  “Thank you for showing us your Lioness,” he replied. “She’s beautiful, of course. Seeing her was a gift.”

  In response, Sinead threw him a smile. “I want to give you everything. I want to show you everything.”

  As if in reaction to those words, Cillian shifted too. Sinead found herself suddenly flanked by two very large men, both peering down at her curiously. Neither of them reached for her, though. They’d learned by now to let her take the lead.

  “Everything?” Cillian asked, his voice soft, hesitant.

  Sinead nodded. “Everything.” She reached her hands out, and after only the briefest hesitation, each man took one. “Let’s go inside.”

  24

  They made their way towards Brigg’s bedroom, a deep, primal joy erupting in waves from some deep place in Sinead’s soul. It was a sensation she’d never quite felt before. An excited anticipation of something so wonderful that she couldn’t quite fathom it yet. Her deepest fantasies would soon find life, and something told her that the reality would be more spectacular than anything she’d ever imagined.

  Lifting one foot in front of the other, raw nervousness ate at her mind, goosebumps rising on her flesh. Her teeth threatened to chatter, to betray her tense excitement. But as soon as she’d slipped into Brigg’s room behind the two men, she inhaled a deep breath and forced all trepidation away.

  Confidence, she whispered to her insides. There’s nothing and no one to be afraid of. Not in this room.

  Her two lovers moved silently towards the bed and turned her way. Both were looking at her with those hungry, exquisite Wolf-eyes of theirs, both waiting anxiously for her to make the first move.

  Cillian’s face, as always, somehow managed to look both soft and hard at once. Seductive yet respectful, distant yet intimate. Everything in him seemed designed to draw her passion to the surface, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent him for it. She loved what he did to her.

  The thought of revisiting their kiss filled her with bliss as she traced the outline of his lips with her eyes. She could taste him on her tongue already.

  Brigg stood on the other side of the bed. Not surprisingly, he’d put an obstacle between him, deliberately cutting himself off from her. But she knew that the moment she said the word, he would come to her. She knew that he would do anything she asked of him.

  He was hers, at least for now.

  She stepped towards Cillian first, eyes fixed on his, a hand slipping up to his chest. For a few seconds, she stared at her fingers as they played with the opening below the collar of his shirt, twisting the short tangle of hair. It almost seemed as though those fingers weren’t hers, as though this man couldn’t possibly occupy the same space as she did. Surely someone else was lucky enough to have him in her reach. She was merely witness to that person’s pleasure.

  She pulled her eyes up to his slowly, giving herself the luxury of dwelling on every inch of his face as she reminded herself that this was her experience. This was her life.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “I promise I won’t push you away this time.”

  Without hesitation he pressed his lips to hers, hands slipping to her neck as he pushed his body forward. She could feel his erection hard and thick against her, his body as eager as hers was.

  Soft footsteps met her ears. Brigg had slipped up behind her, and now he had the bottom of her t-shirt between his fingers. She pulled away from Cillian and lifted her arms, sucking in a deep breath as Brigg pulled the garment over her head and tossed it aside.

  Now, as Cillian watched from in front of her, Brigg’s fingers were moving down to undo her jeans. He snapped the button open, eased the fly down, and dipped his hand into the front. She heard his gasp when he found her sex, when he slid the end of his index finger ov
er her swollen bud. He was breathing hard against her now, his heat and Cillian’s a furnace engulfing her body.

  She bent her head to the side, exposing her neck. This, she knew, was a gesture of submission among Wolves. It meant that she was letting them have their way with her. It was the greatest gift she’d ever bestowed upon anyone. Do your worst, she was saying. I won’t resist.

  Brigg nipped at her playfully, gently, before pressing a trail of kisses to her skin. He slid his hands up her belly and over her ribs, stopping just before he reached the curve of her breasts. Cillian took the hint and reached up, drawing her bra’s straps down, exposing her naked skin to the cool air of the room. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks, inviting a mouth, a tongue, a set of eager fingers. Cillian slipped down to his knees and took one between his lips, sucking, teasing, tormenting her, making the place between her legs ache in vicious waves of desire.

  Heaven, Sinead thought. This is it. This is what it feels like. To think she’d spent so much of her life in hell and somehow she’d ended up in this place, between two men whom she adored. Two men who were both perfect and imperfect at once. Flawed yet divine. Kind, difficult lovers. Gorgeous, too.

  Of course, she didn’t want them because they were handsome, although it sure as hell didn’t hurt. She wanted them because they listened when she spoke to them. They sought to understand who she was, and why, and they had never judged her for any of it.

  Never in her life had she managed to meet someone who didn’t judge her harshly. Never had she met anyone who accepted her as she was.

  “Take off the rest of my clothes,” she said, her voice strained with her arousal. “Both of you.”

  Brigg slipped her jeans down over her hips, slowly, slowly, sliding them down to the floor inch by inch. She stepped out of them gingerly, deliberately teasing with the movement of her hips.

  Brigg left her panties on as he knelt behind her, slipping a hand between her legs to stroke her through the thin fabric. She could hear the sigh emerge from his lips as he pressed his face up to lay a kiss on her inner thigh.

  God, that feels so fucking good. Don’t ever stop.

  Cillian slid his hands behind her back, undid her bra and slipped it off her shoulders, throwing it to the floor. He cupped her breasts in his hands as Brigg had done, stroking his thumbs over her nipples, staring with hungry eyes. She pushed her head back towards Brigg, who stood up to kiss her neck, his fingers still working her sex with all the sensitivity he’d shown her the previous night. He’d quickly learned the workings of her body, understood her every nerve, her every pleasure centre. She only hoped that he could feel her bliss as acutely as she did.

  She could have climaxed like this, standing between her two men, their eyes, hands and lips all over her. Could have shuddered into delighted pieces from the most astonishing orgasm of her life, collapsed into a heap between them.

  But she didn’t want to go there, not just yet. So she pulled herself away from them, stepping towards the bed. Seductively she turned around and lay back on top of the tidy covers, spreading her legs in wait for the first man to come to her.

  It was Cillian who moved in, kneeling down to stroke his tongue from her sex up her belly, between her breasts, over one nipple and then the next. Need washed through her in a scalding wave and she grabbed him, pulling him to her face for another deep kiss. A growl rattled up from her throat when their lips met. She could feel his erection pressing into her from inside his jeans. She reached down and tore the button open, frustrated to have anything between them.

  “Take these off,” she snarled.

  Backing away, he tore the garment off and tossed it aside, and then he was pressing against her, the head of his cock warning her of how close they were now as it pushed into her opening.

  Brigg slipped onto the bed next to her, fingers slipping over her nipples, his lips finding her own. Sinead reached down and grasped Cillian’s length, directing him, urging him to move into her.

  He sheathed himself in one hard thrust, stretching her to the edge of her limits with his thickness. She cried out against Brigg’s mouth, biting his lip in reaction. Brigg let out a low, deep laugh of joy.

  Pulling himself out, Cillian tore his shirt over his head. Muscle met Sinead’s eyes, glistening with heat and need. He was as broad and beautiful as his Wolf, and just as powerful. His body was a fortress, made up of exquisite ridges and valleys. The perfect blend of hardness and strength.

  Once again he drove himself deep, drawing out another cry as Brigg pulled back and Sinead stared into his eyes. He pulled away slowly, agonizingly, fingertips digging into her thighs, his eyes meeting the other man’s.

  “Now you,” he growled at Brigg, who slipped off the bed, peeling away his trousers and his t-shirt. The sudden realization hit Sinead that, despite their intimacy the previous night, it was the first time she’d seen him naked. Like Cillian, he was massive and sexy beyond words, a work of art, his chest broad and powerful. She could see his breath catch in his lungs as he stared down at her, grasping his erection in his hand. It seemed that he was as overwhelmed by the moment as she was. Good.

  “Fuck, yes,” she moaned when she saw him move in close. “That’s what I want.”

  He thrust into her hard, burying himself in her depths, drawing out another long cry of ecstasy. But he pulled out, grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her front, kissing her shoulder blades, the nape of her neck, as he slipped his hand between her legs again. “It’s time,” he growled. “You want this, Lioness, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “It’s the only thing I want in this world.”

  She raised herself onto her knees, waiting for what she knew must be coming.

  Wordlessly, Cillian climbed onto the bed and drew her towards him, eliciting a cry of bliss from her as he pulled her legs over his hips. She slipped down onto him, taking him in inch by inch, wondering how she could possibly hold off on her climax when her channel was already so tight, so swollen, pulsing with so much pleasure.

  Brigg teased her from behind, pressing his fingers into the sensitive opening that had remained untouched. Damn, that felt good. She hadn’t quite anticipated how exquisite her body could feel with two lovers tending her at once.

  “Do it,” she moaned. “Brigg, do it.”

  She screamed in sweet agony when he buried himself inside her. If she’d thought herself pushed to the limit before, somehow she’d just leapt off the cliff into a whole new world of pleasure, her two lovers inside her now, so deep, so thick, their every inch a gift.

  She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, moaning with sheer joy as her lovers moved in unison inside her. Sinead felt empoweredThey were taking her, but she was taking them, too. This was possession in all its forms. Dominance, submission. Ownership, release. Her body was a gift, and so were her lovers’. She was theirs in this moment. Every bit of her claimed. Every bit of her offered up for their pleasure.

  She moved with them, slipping a nipple into Cillian’s mouth as Brigg kissed her neck from behind. The agony of having both men inside her was so acute that she wondered if she’d ever feel anything like it again in her life.

  When she came at last, it was with a wave of sheer, frenzied intensity. She cried out uninhibited as the men rammed into her with brutal force. The scent around her of two virile, powerful Dire Wolf shifters, was enough to draw out her orgasm in a prolonged feast of bittersweet pleasure. As her body pulsed around them, they both thrust one final time, growls rattling up in their throats as searing heat exploded inside her. Her eyes slammed shut, the internal fireworks display brighter than anything she’d ever beheld.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, a throb of infinite sadness overwhelming her as she collapsed on top of Cillian, Brigg’s body falling limp onto her own.

  She should have been happy. Should have revelled in this moment, one that would change her forever.

  But instead, a deep sense of loss was carving a hole inside her. Some
ugly voice inside her reminded her that as long as she lived, nothing would ever be as good as this.

  She had nowhere to go now but down.

  25

  It was still dark outside when Sinead slipped out of the bed. It must have been two or three a.m. when she made her way down the hall towards her suite at the house’s east end.

  When she stepped into the shower and felt the first surge of hot water blasting her skin, her mind cleared for the first time since she’d climbed up the stairs towards Brigg’s bedroom. But along with clarity came the shattering intensification of the same fear that had haunted her all her life.

  She’d given the men a piece of herself, and in exchange she’d taken a part of each of them. She’d possessed them for a few hours, and let them possess her. She’d always feared ownership, yet she hadn’t felt owned. Instead she’d felt worshiped, adored, her every desire and need tended. There was a beauty in what they’d done for her that was unlike anything she’d ever known. It was as though someone had turned her and her lovers into a work of art and she could see their tryst from the outside, each beautiful line of it, each sensual curve, preserved eternally.

  But a terrible, pulsing panic had begun to find its way into her gut. The more she thought about it, the more she told herself that whatever they’d experienced together, that feeling—that wonderful, strange, intense eroticism that they’d felt last night—it couldn’t last. It wouldn’t.

  It was just as she’d always feared; her mates would grow tired of her. They would push her away, just as her parents had done so many years ago. She would become a burden to them, something they wanted gone from their lives. Something inconvenient and useless.

  She knew, because that was all she’d ever been to anyone.