Twin Alphas: Claimed (A BBW Werewolf Romance)

by Georgette St. Clair

  Taking his dick in her hand, she guided him to her tight entrance, then worked her way down, matching his moans with hers as he stretched her channel. When he was fully inside her, she stopped for a moment, breathing hard, and lay against his chest, taking in his scent, breathing in sync with him.

  Then she froze as she felt Clayton’s hands on the globes of her ass. He gently parted them, then ran his tongue from her pussy to the bud of her ass. He lapped at the little rosette, then worked his tongue inside.

  The sensation was foreign and strange, but thrilling, and her pussy clutched around Holt’s cock, making him gasp and buck up against her. The motion pushed her back against Clayton’s clever tongue and she cried out as a flurry of spasms gripped her. She felt so impossibly full that she didn’t know which way to move, but every fiber of her being sang with an arousal so overwhelming that she couldn’t stay still.

  The decision was taken from her as Clayton shifted and pressed the head of his cock against her ass. She tensed, but he held her hips steady and guided himself inside her with gentle, steady pressure. His hot breath washed over her back and she fought to hold still as, beneath her, Holt gently moved his hips, sucked her nipple into his mouth, panted with desire.

  She gripped Holt’s biceps, her fingers digging into the muscles, as the first burn made her wince. But then, as Clayton pushed further inside, she felt herself relaxing and the discomfort blossomed into a new, delicious kind of excitement.

  Clayton began to move, and she moved with him, working herself on and off Holt’s engorged dick.

  Her orgasm caught her by surprise, spiraling from her clit and her ass and engulfing her in a storm of sensation that made her heart pound and her breath stop in her throat. She gave a hoarse, uncontrolled cry and her pussy spasmed. She thrashed and moaned, and Holt and Clayton joined their voices to hers, pumping into her, almost howling with bliss.

  She lay between the twin Alphas feeling content and utterly wrung out. Holt was breathing softly, already having drifted off, while Clayton toyed sleepily with a strand of her hair. She was aware of a pleasant soreness between her thighs, and her ass felt tender. The bites on her throat and her arm throbbed gently with the slow beat of her heart.

  Outside the window the two moons hung in the sky, one large and one small, spilling their eerie silver light over the Claiming Festival.

  Claiming. The word troubled Amelia. It sounded so permanent…and if she was honest with herself, her heart yearned to stay here in Clair De Lune, safe between these men, forever.

  But as much as she longed to, she couldn’t. She had Karlie to think of. The farm to think of. Without the money she’d earn from the university, the Pratt family would seize their land and Tiffany would gloat about having taken something else away from the sisters. Karlie would be crushed, humiliated. Again.

  No. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to leave…and she had to leave soon. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to go. Every hour – almost every moment – she felt bound more closely to Clayton and Holt, both physically and mentally. She had to make her plans to leave before the time came when the brothers could simply pluck them out of her mind. She knew, with a bone-deep certainty she could not have explained, that if they knew she was going to leave them, they would do everything in their power to stop her.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Holt said. “Now we get to buy you a proper breakfast.”

  She sat up in bed. Damn it. She’d meant to wake up before they did, and sneak off. Unfortunately they’d sexed her all night long until she fell asleep at the crack of dawn. She glanced blearily at the clock, and saw that it read 11:30.

  “Good lord,” she said. “I never sleep that late.”

  Clayton was standing next to the bed pulling his pants on. He paused to give Holt a high five.

  “Oh, quit being so smug,” she grumbled. “You two are animals, I tell you. Animals!”

  “You seemed to like it last night,” Clayton smirked.

  She couldn’t suppress a smile. “It was kind of all right, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Clayton reached for his zipper. “Did we leave you unsatisfied?”

  “No!” she cried out hastily, scrambling out of bed. “I had so many orgasms I nearly fainted. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go take a bath, alone –“ She said that in a stern tone, and their faces fell – “and by the time we get out of here, I imagine it will be for lunch.”

  She took a hasty bath, scrubbing herself off quickly. The love bites were still there. That was going to be hard to explain once she crossed over to the other side. She did have her makeup bag with her; she’d have to go heavy on the concealer.

  Refreshed, she dressed quickly and rejoined Clayton and Holt. She grabbed her overnight bag and brought it with her.

  “You don’t need your whole suitcase,” Holt said, as they walked towards the festival area.

  “I have something I need to give Mackenzie,” she said, feeling a sharp stab of guilt. She hated lying, and having to lie to these two felt horrible.

  Holt gave her an odd look. Clayton was strolling on ahead, cheerfully, unaware. Holt was the more sensitive of the two; he probably sensed her deception.

  She avoided his gaze and picked up her pace, and in a few minutes, they’d arrived at a small shack surrounded by picnic tables. It looked like most of the other restaurant shacks at the festival, with several open windows where people were taking orders for food. It was already crowded, with sleepy-looking, sex-rumpled werewolves and human females.

  As they walked up to stand in line for one of the open counters, she spotted Ajax sitting across the way, eating by himself and looking miserable.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said to Clayton and Holt, and pushed her way through the crowd to get to Ajax.

  He didn’t bother to look up, so she slammed her hand down on the table in front of him.

  “What the hell?” she demanded.

  He looked up at her, startled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How could you do that to Mackenzie, you lowlife dirtball jackass?” she snapped. “You totally humiliated her. Did that make you feel really manly? Are you happy with yourself?”

  His face took on a stony expression. “Do I look happy to you?”

  “Then why? You at least owe her an explanation, other than that she was a final fling before you and your brother go riding off into the sunset with the girl you really like.”

  “There is no other girl.” He glared at his plate and took a bite of his sandwich.

  “Oh really? Because some other girl walked up to her right after you left, and said exactly that. She said that you were going to introduce her to your brother, and Mackenzie had been your last fling.”

  “She was lying.”

  “Why would she do that?” Amelia raised an eyebrow.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t talk about it. I like Mackenzie, it’s just…it didn’t work out.”

  There was something more going on here – but he clearly wasn’t going to tell her what.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter, because she already found two brothers who like her just fine.” Amelia turned away as if she was leaving.

  “What?” He leaped up from his table and half shifted. His head and the upper half of his body went wolf, fur rippling all over his body. His jaw shot out, and he snarled, his eyes wide. With great effort, he shook himself and the fur sank back in, his face melted back into human form, and he let out a furious growl.

  “Who are they?” he looked around wildly, as if he’d spot them in the crowd.

  “Nobody. I just said that because you’re obviously lying. She’s miserable because you dumped her, you jerk.”

  “I had no choice!” he barked at her. Then he went pale. Literally went pale, she could see the color drain from his face. “Don’t tell her I said that,” he pleaded. “It’s a matter of life and death. Literally. I never meant to hurt
her, I would rather die than hurt her, she just can’t know anything more.”

  “Okay,” Amelia said, taken aback. “I won’t say anything.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear.”

  Ajax turned and stalked off. Amelia turned to see that Clayton and Holt were standing there, staring at her.

  “What was that all about?”

  “I, ah – I yelled at him for leading Mackenzie on.”

  “You don’t know that,” Clayton protested. “That’s a serious accusation to make against an Alpha. Our honor is very important to us. I’m telling you, Mackenzie read too much into it, and then over-reacted when he didn’t feel the same way she did.”

  “Over-reacted? Seriously?” Amelia sputtered.

  Then she realized – this was her chance to get away.

  “I am upset right now, and I need some time to myself,” she said.

  She turned and walked away.

  “Wait!” Holt called after her. “When will you be back?”

  She couldn’t bear to lie one more time, so she broke into a jog and shoved her way through the crowd without saying anything.

  She was out of breath when she finally reached the spot in the woods where she could cross over, and she realized that she was crying as she ran. She was breaking her own heart, leaving them behind without a goodbye.

  But she couldn’t tell them that she had to leave because then she’d have to tell them why.

  God, what a terrible mess she’d made of things. How could she have done this to them? She’d never meant to let it get this far.

  Wiping tears from her face, she looked ahead and saw the shimmering blue in the woods ahead, and she quickly ran straight for it.

  She felt the tingling and weird rippling that she’d always felt when she crossed through – and something more. It was like a sharp tearing of fabric, like she’d literally left part of herself behind in the other universe.

  She sat down cross legged on the dirt and cried for a good five minutes.

  “All right, Amelia,” she said to herself finally. “Time to put my big-girl panties on.” She reached into her bag, and pulled out a t-shirt and her makeup bag. She wiped her face on the t-shirt, and then quickly patted concealer over her love bites. She spent a few minutes doing her face, hiding the evidence of her crying, and then with a heavy heart, started walking towards the road to her rendezvous point with Malcolm.

  He was already parked by the side of the road waiting for her in a dark van she hadn’t seen before. He stood outside, leaning on the van, and looked up when she approached.

  “Hey! You made it!” he grinned, waving at her.

  She pasted a smile on her face and jogged towards him, trying to ignore the feeling that her heart had turned into a lump of lead in her chest.

  “How did it go?” he asked. “Successful trip?

  “Yes, it was,” she said.

  “Pictures! Let me see!” He sounded like an eager child.

  She pulled her camera out and showed him some of her pictures, and the magic wreath of flowers that Holt had given her.

  He grinned at her. “Exactly what we needed,” he said.

  She heard rattling in the van, and then a door slid open and a man climbed out. She didn’t recognize him, and he looked big and burly like Malcolm, and he was wearing gloves and striding towards her with a look of grim purpose on his face.

  Panic swept over her. She turned to run, but the man was on her before she could escape, and he’d slapped a cloth over her face. The cloth was wet and smelled of chemicals, and the world went blurry and wobbly and then she sank into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  How much time had passed? Her head pounded and when she struggled to sit up, everything swirled around her.

  Nausea roiled up inside her, and she sat up and retched. She was dimly aware that somebody was holding a waste can to catch her vomit, and patting her shoulder.

  “Amelia. Say something. Oh, my God.” It was Karlie’s voice.

  The room swam into focus and she looked around. She was in the living room of a house she’d never been in before, and the windows were all closed and curtained. The floor was tiled and the room sparsely furnished.

  Malcom and the burly man who’d drugged her sat at a wooden table, playing cards, along with Virgil. There were a dozen men in the room, all big and muscular and armed, and – a werewolf. One of the werewolves from the Red River Pack, she realized. She could tell by his necklace and by his lean, hawkish face.

  Karlie. They had Karlie too. She struggled not to panic.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she glared at Malcom. “Why are we here?” She leaned back on the couch. She felt horrible; whatever he’d drugged her with had packed a wallop like the kick of a horse.

  Karlie shook her head regretfully.

  “Your new job was a setup,” she said. “They never wanted you to write a research paper. They just wanted to know that you could cross over and come back successfully.”

  Of course. The job, the money, it had all been too good to be true. She should have been suspicious – but she’d wanted the money so badly that she’d convinced herself that it was on the level.

  “Wait a minute,” she said to Virgil. “You really do work for the university. I’ve seen lectures that you’ve given. I read one of your books.”

  “They let me go a few months ago,” Virgil said coolly. “Of course, you couldn’t know that, because you had no access to the internet. Besides, I was never paid what I was worth, and my new friends here are compensating me quite handsomely.”

  “He molested a student,” Karlie sneered. “I overheard them talking about him.” She inclined her head at Malcolm and his burly friend.

  “Molested! She was an adult, and she led me on! She came to my office dressed like a tart, crying about how she’d do anything to get her grades up!” Virgil said indignantly.

  “Oh, and Tiffany’s father was the one who told them about us. I overheard that too,” Karlie said heatedly. “That douchebag. I hope they’re paying him really well.”

  “We are,” Malcolm said, with an unpleasant smile.

  “Son of a bitch. I will personally kill that asshole,” Amelia said furiously. Just as soon as her head stopped pounding and the room stopped wobbling.

  But how? How would they ever get away from these people? They were in a room full of armed men, and she would never try to escape as long as they had Karlie.

  Her family had been right. It was dangerous for people to know about their special powers. It had been whispered around town for generations that the Baxters were special, different, strange…so it wasn’t a surprise that Mr. Pratt knew about it. The fact that he would betray Amelia’s family to this level shouldn’t have come as a surprise either.

  Amelia looked over at the werewolf. “You’re one of those asshole Red River pack losers,” she said furiously. “I recognize your ugly face. You look just like the rest of your mangy fleabag relatives.”

  He leaped up from the table and stalked over to her. “Don’t you dare talk about my pack that way.”

  “Or what?” She glared up at him defiantly.

  “Or I’ll rip your throat out.”

  “I doubt that,” Amelia said, with a braveness she didn’t feel. “Nobody but me and my sister can cross the Breach, and we’re the only ones who could take you back home. You’re trapped here, aren’t you? You must have wandered over here when the Breach opened up. Without me, you’re stuck here forever.”

  Too bad he hadn’t tried to go home like all the other werewolves who’d accidentally wandered over. Then he’d be dead. Instead, he’d stayed over here to consort with criminals – and she suspected that she knew why. They were going to be involved in some kind of smuggling operation, involving silver.

  “I don’t need you alive. We can just use your sister,” he growled, and fur rippled on his face.

  Suddenly half a dozen men were pointing guns at him.


  “Get away from her! There’s silver on these bullets,” one of the men yelled at him.

  The werewolf stood his ground and shot them a look of disgust.

  “Do you think I don’t know that? I can smell, you idiots. And I will not tolerate my pack being spoken of with disrespect.”

  “Ricardo. These girls are worth a fortune, and if you harm either one of them, I will kill you,” Malcom said. His gun was trained right at the werewolf’s head.

  Ricardo’s lip wrinkled back in an ugly snarl, and he sneered at Amelia. “I can smell wolf on you. Who did you fuck? It smells like Bay Hills, whoever it was. Let me tell you what’s going to happen to them. You are going to help bring silver over into my world. We will use it to make bullets and mow down every last Bay Hills wolf and all their children, and we will take their land and their women.”

  A wave of fear and fury washed over Amelia. The thought of anything happen to her Alphas, and their big, loving, happy family made her tremble with rage.

  “The Sentinels will kill you,” she snapped. She didn’t know that much about the Sentinels, but she got the impression that they enforced the law for werewolves.

  “Stupid bitch. Do you think we didn’t anticipate that? We have enough packs allied with us to take them down, once we have silver. Then we’ll go back to the old ways, where might makes right and the strong, the ones who deserve it, claim what they want. Women. Land. Riches.”

  Amelia responded by bending over and puking on his shoes.

  He let out a howl of fury, and lunged at her. She heard a gunshot crack through the air, and then a scream of pain. Then she smelled sizzling flesh.

  She forced herself to sit back up, her head swimming. What was wrong with her? What had Malcom done to her?

  “Get it out! Get it out!” Ricardo screamed, and through bleary eyes she saw one of the guards digging out a bullet from Ricardo’s arm with a knife. Blood streamed from the wound.

  “You fucking asshole! That’s going to leave a scar that never heals!” Ricardo shouted.