by L. V. Lane
He runs a tense hand through his hair like he is thinking about rutting her still. I admit I am thinking about rutting her, too. Gods, the image of her slick little pussy waiting for a cock to plow it is emblazoned upon my mind.
“Hazel has taken well to my needs,” he adds, staring in the direction of the bedding chamber.
Hazel, I frown. Why does that name stir at memories? “What the fuck was she wearing?” I ask. “Is that her native dress? It is very short.” I have never seen a westerner dressed thus, but perhaps it is an obscure village. A thousand thoughts about the Goddess in human flesh are swirling around my mind, yet it is this one that finds voice. I cannot honestly say that I mind the length of her dress, although I can see me getting into a fight with every fucking Alpha in the clan if I catch any of them admiring her plentiful charms.
“I need to rut her often,” Jack says by way of explanation, copping a raised brow from me.
“I’m not surprised if she is walking about like that all the time,” I say. “Worse still if she is constantly flaunting her pussy. Is it a cultural thing? Where the fuck did you find her?”
He gives me a shifty look. “Oxenford,” he says.
“Oxenford?” I repeat like I am one of those talking birds that repeat your words back.
“I ordered the dress to be shortened because I need to rut her often. And she only flaunts her pussy to me because I told her it’s what I expect, and further, that I will take the strap to her bottom if she does not. The lass has the worst sense of timing. She has never done it before another male.”
I try to unpick that jumble of revelations, but I am still thinking about Oxenford. Only now, my attention has narrowed to a moment by the riverside when I was but a boy. I try to mesh the memory of a pretty young lass over the stunning woman mated to Jack. She has changed. Of that, there is no doubt. Yet those pretty hazel eyes that peeked at me under her lashes at the side of the river are the same ones seeking my approval a moment ago when she presented herself. I groan a little to myself and try to get my raging hard-on under control.
I thought of her often after I boldly stole her first kiss. But as the time went on, her face lost clarity in my memory. Soon, all that remained was the feel of her sweet lips. She was thirteen at the time. I’d presumed the lass to have gotten married and pushed out a couple of brats long since.
“Pike’s lass,” I say. It is not a question, but Jack nods.
My brother is a year a widower, and he has been a miserable bastard for all of that time. His late mate, Lesa, was a sweet thing, and I understood that it cut him deeply when she joined the Goddess. He was mated to Lesa when I was but a boy. I never thought of her as ought but a motherly figure. But I am no longer a boy, and I do not feel the same way toward the sweet Beta Jack has claimed.
For so long, the Goddess has been absent from my life. I felt her all too briefly that day by the river. But now, and today, I sense her once again.
I feel like Hazel was mine first, although many years and distance have kept us apart.
I feel like I want to challenge Jack for rights to her.
I feel like I might go on a rampage if he tries keeping her from me.
“She is very small,” I say. I am a rough Alpha, although I would never seek to hurt a lass. Jack has forbidden me from taking any but the more mature, hale Betas who are well used to rutting. But I am an Alpha and predisposed to find interest in the smaller, sweeter ones who better resemble an Omega. Hazel is a tiny lass. When I first saw her, I was sure she was an Omega until I realized there was no scent.
She is small and sweet, and she fucking presented to me for rutting. She gave me—okay, I stole—her first kiss. I don’t care what Jack says. She also met my eyes before she turned and lifted her skirt.
I groan as the image of her peeking back at me brings a rushing roar of blood pounding.
He will need to fucking banish me to stop me from rutting her. I cannot think straight; the need is so sharp and all-consuming. “I do not want to be fucking banished,” I say. “I will go on a fucking rampage if you try to keep her from me.”
I am slammed up against the wall as the last words leave my lips.
His fist encloses my throat. I may be younger, but we are well-matched, and I could push him off if I chose.
I do not choose to. Her first kiss might have been mine, but Jack has claimed her first. He is the king, as is his right as firstborn. I do not begrudge him his place as our leader; I am not well disposed to such a role. But today, I am thinking about challenging him.
“If you talk like an ass and a whelp, you will be treated as one,” he growls, face inches from mine, daring me to resist.
“It is not I who set the lass to sobbing,” I point out.
He growls and jerks away from me, eyes shifting toward the bedding chamber hidden from our view by a screen.
Also, he has not said he will banish me.
He is thinking about sharing her with me.
“We will share her,” I say.
His nostrils flare. He is still glaring, but he nods his head.
“We will share her,” he agrees.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hazel
I CAN’T STOP crying. I don’t think I have ever felt rejection as deeply as when Jack ordered me to the bedding chamber. I am angry at him, but I’m also angry at myself.
I also recognize that the only reason I’m so upset is that I have come to crave the Alpha, both his intimate attention and his soft purrs. I do not even mind that he feeds me!
Then there is Fen, the lad who claimed my first kiss. For so long, his image was seared into my mind, but then time happened, and all I remember is the way my tummy tumbled over when he smiled. I have been wedded and lost a husband during the intervening years. Young girl’s dreams of stolen kisses have no place in the adult world.
Yet here he is.
Here we all are.
And now, I have made the worst fool of myself. Maybe Jack does not intend to share me with his brother anymore?
The rumbled conversation resumes, but the up and down tones tell me the conversation is not entirely calm.
The longer I lay unattended on the bed, the greater my resentment grows. How was I supposed to know I should not present? They were both staring at me like they wanted to rut!
I am facing down, but I pull a pelt over my head for good measure at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Go away! You are not welcome here!”
This is a ridiculous statement given it is Jack’s home and bedding chamber, but my temper has had an opportunity to fully charge while he has been talking to the other Alpha.
An Alpha I have just presented my pussy to for ravishment in the most unseemly way.
“Fuck me, is that a nest?”
My ears prick up. That is not Jack’s voice. Fen’s voice. I think I swoon a little. It is for the best I am lying down.
Then I remember that I bared my pussy to him, and now, I feel sick.
I am getting hot under the pelt. But I also don’t want to show any of me to any male ever again.
Wait? Nest?
“Gods, she has a fucking perfect ass.”
That is also not Jack. That is swoon-worthy Fen.
I squeal as a giant hand encloses my ankle. It is only now that I realize I have pulled the pelt over my head and left the rest of me exposed! My scandalously short dress does not cover anything! I am tugged from my poorly crafted hiding with more squeals of outrage. I kick and thrash as he turns me over. Fully ready to maim the male who dares to interrupt my self-pity.
“Hush lass,” Jack says, subduing my small fight with alarming ease and all the while purring, which is unfair for he knows I like it well. I am sprawled out on my back, and he has somehow caged my smaller body with his larger one such that my legs are spread open around him. His earthy scent fills my lungs. Being held by him thus turns my body a little squirmy and makes my traitorous pussy clench in anticipation of rutting.
I shoot a glance to the side t
o find Fen watching, a smirk lighting his handsome face.
Jack speaks, drawing my attention. “I didn’t mean to use a harsh tone when you—”
“Presented myself for rutting,” I fill in for him, feeling my flushed cheeks heat further.
“Presented yourself for rutting,” he agrees. He is now also smirking.
When I glare, his face softens, and he brushes hair from my hot, tear-damped cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make light of your embarrassment. You are cursed to look adorable whenever you are cross.”
The tenderness in his expression disarms my temper. “I thought you said I must also present to Fen,” I say, trying not to think about the other Alpha, who is still in our bedding chamber.
“I did,” Jack says. I am still reeling from this statement when he lowers his lips to mine, snatching my breath away.
I groan as his mouth moves over mine. My lips part, allowing his tongue to dip inside to tangle with mine. Every kiss is like the first, a heady, drugging sensation that makes me hot, wriggly, and full of urgency.
“Such, a beautiful, perfect little mate,” he says between kisses. “So open and giving. You are so beautiful when you present yourself.” His lips lower to my throat, sucking against the skin sharply enough that I know it will leave a little mark. It only makes me hotter and sends dampness pooling between my thighs. “My anger was not at you. It was momentary jealousy knowing I must share you.”
Share.
The word echoes around my mind as he continues to stoke my arousal one searing kiss at a time.
Shared.
This is not new news, for he told me that he had a younger brother the first day. My own father proposed I could mate with them both, although such couplings are less common in my birth lands.
I always knew about Fen, but it was pushed aside to a distant event in my future. But now that future is here and upon me. Only now, as Fen waits inside our bedding chamber that I realize the full magnitude of what that means. Jack is a powerful, dominant male who needs to rut often. But his brother is all of that too.
My nails rake over firm flesh when thoughts of both these powerful males tending to me makes me extra hot and needy.
“I think my sweet, lusty little Beta is not averse to the thought of vigorous rutting by a second mate,” Jack says, pausing to gaze down at me through lidded, hungry eyes. “Will you be a good girl for your two masters? Or do you need some time with the strap first to help prepare you to better accept our cocks?”
A small hiss-groan escapes my lips at the mention of the strap. I have felt the strap before, and I do not like it. But there is something in Jack’s eyes as he mentions it as a prelude to them both rutting me that makes my tummy clench.
I see his eyes darken.
“The strap is it,” he says. “You were close to accepting all of me this morning. I think the strap will help to soften you for the rutting. We will use some oil when the discipline is done, and I will work my fingers deeply.” He strokes a finger over my cheek. “We will make you feel good before we get to the rutting so your tight little pussy can better accept our full cocks. Tomorrow, we will begin the training with the knotted phallus and plug. You will find it a struggle at first, but that can’t be helped. Your scent is changing as you become fertile, and you will soon need to take our knot as well. If you are well behaved and accept this necessary preparation, it will not hurt too badly.”
I swallow. My stomach turns over at the mention of it not hurting too badly. I admit to being aroused when there is a little discomfort. When Jack thrust deeply this morning, it made me sore inside. It also made my pussy gush, and I come very powerfully.
His eyes do not leave mine. He sees all this. He knows I like it when he is a little rough with me—that I come hardest when he rutted me in shameful view of his second Alpha over the oak table.
He shuffles back. “Good girl,” he says like the matter is decided. His hand encloses the hem of my dress just as I try to tug it over my naked pussy.
“Goddess!” I gasp as he tugs my dress over my head before tossing it to the floor.
My eyes dart to where his handsome brother stands. Fen is staring at my pussy, cheeks flushed, and expression absolutely ravenous. My legs try to snap shut, but I get a smack to my thigh. “Open your fucking legs,” Jack growls, spanking me again when I’m not fast enough. “This is my fucking pussy. Now, it is also Fen’s. You will open your legs in the presence of your masters, or I will use the fucking strap, and you will get your naughty bottom plugged without the aid of oil.”
My legs spring open. My chest heaves, and my whole body flushes.
“How long has it been since you fucked her?” Fen asks, rubbing his jaw absently as he comes to stand to Jack’s right. “Her pussy is absolutely drenched.”
“I have not fucked her since this morning when you arrived,” Jack replies. “She is naturally responsive to an Alpha.” His eyes narrow. “And she is not averse to a little pain with her pleasure.” Leaning down, he plants a fist beside my hip and presses a single thick finger into my wet pussy. “I’ve no doubt the mention of me plugging her little bottom without oil has further stoked her arousal.”
I clench over his finger as if to confirm his wicked assessment.
Fen laughs, a low, pleasing sound. “Did she just clench?”
“She did,” Jack confirms, pumping his finger slowly in and out, and making me twitch against the bed. It makes wet noises that grow louder when Jack works his finger from side to side. “She was so fucking tight when I first claimed her. But she has softened nicely under my constant attention.” He rocks the finger from side to side then pumps in and out as if emphasizing my openness. “She comes very easily. But there is yet more training needed to make her perfect for our pleasure. Now there are two of us; her poor pussy will need a rest. We must train her to suck our cocks. Her pretty ass is tight. But she is sensitive there and comes powerfully when I have played.”
“She will take well to ass rutting,” Fen agrees, nodding. “I can see her tummy and pussy clenching at the mere mention of it.” He turns to his brother. “How shall we do this?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Fen
I FEEL LIKE I have stepped into a vivid carnal dream. The sweet Beta is laid out on Jack’s furs, and her slick little pussy is making the filthiest wet sounds as he fingers her. Her eyes don’t know where to go. She closes them, opens them, looks at Jack, looks at me, and then closes them again.
“There is yet more training needed to make her perfect for our pleasure,” Jack said a short time ago.
Training. I have never been involved in training a lass. I freely admit that I am committed to whatever this entails.
Jack leans up from where he crowds Hazel on the bed.
“I think the lass should be the one controlling your first time together,” he says. Taking both Hazel and me by surprise if her shocked gasp is any indication.
She shakes her head. My cock twitches—it couldn’t care less how this goes down so long as it fucking goes.
Jack’s eyes narrow at her little show of rebellion. He does not suffer insubordination well. I smirk for the lass is yet new to him and has much to learn. “But first, I will use the strap. It will better help you to focus on doing what you are told. And having no attention since this morning will make you very focused.” He nudges his head at me. “Go and fetch the strap.”
I hear her stammered protests as I leave for the hall, but I’m already halfway into a stupor, and everything is coming through a tunnel.
Mate. The word echoes through my mind as I collect the strap from the hook and return to the bedding chamber. She is standing with Jack. His arm is around her, big hand cupping her pretty plump ass. He is purring, although I see her trembling a little. This is not punishment, and I know Jack will temper the strokes so that they only heat her skin.
Still, it will sting. And if Hazel responds to a bit of pain, as Jack has mentioned, her pussy will soon be drenched, and she will be
needy for attention.
For my cock, since Jack mentioned she may use me for her pleasure.
As I hand the strap over, Jack takes it with a nod. “I’ve had second thoughts,” he says. “I think you should hold her while I do this.”
I suck a sharp breath in. I have not yet touched her. Now, I must hold her while she suffers a firm discipline. My nostrils flare in anticipation of putting my hands on her.
Hazel peeks back at me over her shoulder.
Fuck. That look, her pretty eyes seem to sear into my soul.
I want to be the one using the strap. I want to hold Hazel down and fill her up with my cock and knot until there is nothing between us. Never have I knotted a lass, for I have never had a mate. I want to use her roughly. I want to do things to her that I have never done before.
“Can you be a good girl for us, Hazel? Can you let Fen hold you while I take the strap to your bottom?”
She is still watching me like she wants me to gobble her up. “Yes,” she whispers, never taking her eyes from mine. “I can be good for you and Fen.”
Caught in a lusty daze, I sit on the bed as Jack coaxes her into position. Her hands rest tentatively on my shoulders. Petting me softly, she bites her bottom lip. Holding her waist gently, my eyes lower to her lush tits. Fuck, she is so soft and sweet. “Good girl,” I say. “Put your knees to either side.”
She climbs on, her breasts almost in my face until she rights herself. Her little gasp and smirk do not go unnoticed. “It seems our mate has a little brat in her,” I say.
Jack chuckles. Her tits jiggle a little as Jack smooths a hand down her back and pauses to pet her ass.
I am fucking mesmerized by her responsiveness.
“Oh!” her little gasp accompanies him swatting her ass with his hand, and my eyes flash to meet hers.
“I wish I had ten sets of eyes,” I say. “So that I might look everywhere at once.” Her lips tug up in a smile. She gasps again in a way that is half a groan as Jack lands another firm spank.
Lowering my lips to her ear, I whisper, “I can smell your cunt creaming, my needy little Beta.”