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The Pack Rules Boxed Set: The Complete Series of Wolf, Bear, and Dragon Shifter Romances

Page 48

by Michele Bardsley


  In any case, the ruling three of the Winter Pack branches, who had more authority than even the Elders passing judgment on her now, insisted that the legend be re-enacted every twenty-five years. This time, it was the duty of her pack, the descendants of Stone, to put on the show.

  “You will, of course, be generously compensated.”

  Surprise fluttered through Echo. The Elders were switching tactics. This was no longer a punishment, but a favor? Uneasiness clamored through her.

  “What would this generosity include?” she asked.

  “The Alphas have authorized a… a stipend for your time and… er, effort.”

  “Stipend?”

  “One hundred thousand dollars… so long as you fulfill the entire obligation of the festival rites.”

  Echo looked at the floor so she wouldn’t give away her shock. “And how much of that will be tithed to the pack?”

  “None,” said Elder Magnus. He sounded as though he were chewing on rocks. “The entire amount is yours to do with as you wish. In addition, you will be granted singulus licentia.”

  Her shock deepened. So, the Alphas were offering her money. And the Elders of Stone were offering her what she wanted most -- freedom. Under singulus licentia she would never have to marry or procreate, and she would retain the protection of the pack. It was a rare designation, often given to females who became priestesses or healers.

  All she had to do was prostitute herself for a week.

  Well, how was that any different than allowing the Elders to arrange her marriages, none of which had lasted a year due to the untimely deaths of her mates?

  Her first husband had been nice enough, but rarely took her to bed. He preferred men, and though the pack didn’t forbid gay relationships, he hadn’t wanted it known. She’d kept the secret, even after he drowned trying to save the lover who’d gotten caught in a riptide. Her second husband had been an older man, who enjoyed fellatio more than intercourse. She wasn’t opposed to blowjobs, but he did not like to reciprocate. It had been a very dissatisfying relationship. They’d only been married a couple of months when he died of a heart attack. Her third husband died mere days after their wedding night. He had a terrible temper and liked his drink. A bar brawl ended with him stabbed in the heart with a silver blade.

  After three dead husbands and her apparent barrenness, no one wanted to mate with her -- and that suited Echo just fine. Too bad the council found out about her birth control.

  “Echo?” asked Elder Magnus.

  She realized she’d been peering at the gleaming stone floor too long. Her sex life thus far had been unremarkable. She had dutifully married all the men the Elders deemed. She had never been in love, never hoped to find an equal partner. Maybe the sex would be good. Maybe her lovers would be kind. And then she would be free -- and rich.

  “I want it in writing,” she said, lifting her gaze to the Elders. She looked each man in the eye. “If I agree to be the pack’s whore, I want your written promise I shall be free to live as I choose and will always have the protection of the pack.”

  “You shall have it, Echo.” He looked at the other members of the Council. “As is dictated by the Alphas, you must spend one evening with each representation of our wolf fathers. In four days’ time, on the night of the full moon, you will mate with the Three Brothers at the pinnacle of our festival.”

  She hadn’t realized the festival rites would be enacted so quickly. Either they hadn’t planned ahead, which was ridiculous, or she was a replacement for the previously approved Daughter of Man. Elder Magnus had tried to make her accept the role as punishment, then as reward. And she was probably standing here because she was the only female they had any sway over. Assholes. She stifled the urge to punch all the Elders in their fat, loathsome heads. Argh!

  “Prepare what you need,” said Elder Magnus. “You leave tonight.”

  TUCKED INTO THE hillside, the mansion’s entire façade was glass. Echo paused on the landscaped walkway and clutched the handle of her rolling suitcase. Nerves plucked at her stomach.

  She’d made the agreement and she’d follow through, but she was nervous as hell. She’d been told to call her werewolf lovers by their ancestor names. She was expected to fuck them, and shut up. She’d never been much good at shutting up. She just wanted this week to be over with… and the sooner it got started, the better.

  Determined now, she marched up the steps and raised her hand to knock on the front door.

  It swung open before her knuckles touched the expensive mahogany.

  Echo dropped her hand and stared up at the man filling the doorway. It took all her control not to scurry backward.

  The man was built like a goddamned oak tree. Tall, broad, muscled. He had red hair cut short and crystalline green eyes that gleamed like peridot. He wore loose-fitting pants that tied at the waist and no shirt. He was sweating, too. His chest rose and fell as though he’d been doing something strenuous -- like working out?

  She’d grown up with men who were handsome and kept fit. But no one she’d ever met looked so… well… she swallowed the knot clogging her throat. Heat flushed her cheeks, and she licked her lips.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. His nostrils flared as though he were scenting her. Then his eyes went dark as jade, filled with an intensity that made her give in and step back.

  While she stared at him like a girl mooning over her high school crush, he latched onto her suitcase and pulled it from her grip. He tossed it into the foyer behind him.

  “Clothes?” he asked in a whiskey voice.

  She nodded, since she couldn’t quite get her voice to work.

  “You won’t need them.”

  “I… I have lingerie.”

  He shook his head. “Not necessary.”

  “The others?”

  “We all live here, but only one man will be in the house per evening. We will use the cavern to enact the festival.” He looked at her, and she couldn’t discern the emotion lurking in his gaze. “I’m first. And lucky, lucky me.”

  He looped his hand around her wrist and yanked her forward. She smacked against the solid flesh of his chest. His sweat matted her shirt. His musk didn’t bother her; it was almost nostalgic given she’d spent almost every day of her childhood working out alongside her brothers.

  “You’re beautiful.” He sounded gruff. His body was tense, and he was sporting a rather sizeable erection, which was pressed against her thigh.

  “Bonus, right?”

  One corner of his mouth quirked. “Definite bonus.”

  He drew her inside, shut the door, then swung her around and pushed her against the solid wood.

  His breathing had changed, going harsh and erratic. Her sensitive ears picked up his increased heartbeat. She said nothing. This was what she’d signed up for, and she was a willing fuck toy until the full moon was over.

  He reached under her skirt and yanked down her panties.

  Her breath caught. He leaned down and breathed in her scent, his tongue flickering up her neck. Her own heart started to pound. She put her hands against his slick chest, resisting the urge to push at that wall of muscle. Push him away and run, run from this… this intensity of need. It vibrated from him and sank into her, until she felt the growing heat of his lust, the thickening of desire in her own belly, the shredding of control. Hers. His.

  Holy goddess.

  Instead of pushing him away, she scored his tiny brown nipples with her nails.

  He growled.

  Then he grabbed the silk edge of her blouse and ripped it open. Buttons popped off and danced along the marble floor. His teeth ripped the center of her bra. The fabric fell away, freeing her breasts.

  He laved her nipples, making noises in his throat, whimpers and growls. The hand under her skirt stroked her aching clit. She was vaguely grateful he was trying to give her some satisfaction rather than just taking his own.

  It was costing him, though. His body shook, and she realized he was barely controlli
ng himself. But hell, she was slick, ready. It was crazy to be so primed… but this whole scenario was crazy.

  She fumbled with his sweats and then his cock sprang free. He gripped her thigh and lifted one of her legs. With one shaking hand, she guided him into her pussy.

  He buried himself deeply, filling her to the womb. God, he was big. He sucked in breaths as he struggled with his inner animal. She wrapped both legs around his waist, and her arms went around his neck.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered.

  HE STARTED PUMPING into Echo, jerky motions that suggested he was still fighting to maintain control. She dug her fingernails into his back and bit his earlobe. “Fuck me,” she demanded again. “Hard!”

  He roared, his fingers digging into her thighs, his teeth sinking into her shoulder, his control shattering as he pounded into her. Sweat dripped from them both. Echo held on as pleasure crashed through her. She gulped in breaths as she orgasmed, and still, River didn’t stop. She was strong and fit, but her thighs started to ache and her arms quivered.

  Finally, he stiffened, his hot seed jetting into her, as he bit down harder on her shoulder. Pain throbbed dully, joining the other tendrils of pain emanating from the rest of her. After almost a decade seemed to pass, River withdrew and lowered her feet to the floor. She clung to him because her legs were like friggin’ wet noodles.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  “I like the way you smell.” He looked at her, and she saw the lust still burning in his eyes. He could take her again, right now, and… uh, yeah. His cock was already hard.

  And it wasn’t even the full moon yet.

  “I’ll show you to your room. It has a master bath. You can shower, and I’ll make dinner.”

  “You?” she asked.

  “We don’t keep staff,” he said. “And I know how to make a mean T-bone.”

  “Rare?”

  “Is there any other way to eat one?”

  She laughed. He let her go, but held on to her elbow until she felt steady enough to grab her suitcase and walk on her own. She was sore, and she suspected her thighs were already bruising.

  Again, she thought about what sex with River might be like during the full moon. He was already ravenous, already walking the tightrope between control and savagery. She’d be a fool not to feel scared. But she felt excitement, too. That quickie was probably the best sex she’d had… and that was a sad fact. Three husbands and not one had made her come like that. Holy God. What would the other two be like?

  “This way,” said River.

  She followed him up around a winding staircase. The room he showed her was huge. The bed was the biggest she’d ever seen, a four-poster monstrosity laden with red and gold silk pillows and a thick duvet. All the furniture was big and dark -- the dresser, the nightstands, and even the couch that faced the stone fireplace on the right side of the room. The closet was cavernous, all its hooks, racks, and shelves empty. The bathroom offered a glass-enclosed shower and a tub with jets, which seemed big enough for at least eight people.

  “The kitchen is downstairs. Down the hallway on the left, past the dining room.”

  He turned to go, but Echo put her hand on his arm. “You want to show me how to turn on the shower? Because all those controls look complicated. I might accidentally launch a nuclear weapon or something.”

  His gaze flicked to the far wall with its silver-plated buttons and knobs. “It’s not that difficult.” He blew out a breath and rubbed his hair. “I don’t think I should stick around. Your scent is driving me crazy.”

  “You sound like you care.”

  His gaze snapped to hers. “I’m not an animal.”

  “Yes,” she said. “You are.” Echo shed her torn top and dangling bra. Then dropped her panties and her skirt. She put her hands on her hips and watched River’s hungry gaze take in the proud thrust of her breasts and her pussy still seeping with juices.

  “I’m a werewolf, not some pansy-assed human.” She didn’t know why she was continuing to rile him. She enjoyed the aggression. She knew how to tweak her brothers, how to get them into a fight. But she didn’t want to fight with River. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted to come again.

  River opened the glass shower door and stepped inside. Echo followed and shut the door behind her. While he fiddled with the knobs, the spouts on the walls showered her with hot water.

  “Nice,” she said. She tugged on the waistband of his sweats. “Get naked.”

  He turned and yanked off his pants. His gaze was hard. “You like to get burned, don’t you?”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  He grabbed her by the hair. Pain zipped along her scalp. He pushed her against the marble wall. Her breasts mashed against the cold stone. Her heart tripped over in her chest, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing her fear, though he surely knew a shadow of terror edged her boldness.

  He tugged her hair again, and she moaned.

  “You like it.” He sniffed her neck. Then he clamped his teeth on her nape and parted her thighs. He shoved his swollen cock into her well-abused pussy. She pressed her palms against the wall, her nipples beading as he started fucking her. He squished her against the marble, but still managed to squeeze his hand between her body and the wall.

  He pinched her clit.

  “Oh, gods.” Her thighs were shaking. She wouldn’t fall, though, because she was pinned too securely. Her toes left the tiled flooring as he continued pounding into her. And he kept pinching her clit. Tight. Hard. Painful.

  His teeth were embedded in her flesh, and the other hand was still wrapped in her hair. He tugged hard, sending ripples of pain from her scalp to her cunt. It joined the riot of agony in her clit, and then she was, incredibly, falling over the edge into a glorious orgasm. He stopped biting her neck and pressed his forehead against her shoulder.

  “Yes,” he groaned. “Yes. I’m coming, baby. Coming in that beautiful cunt.”

  He stilled, his body shuddering, as he emptied himself.

  After a while, he stirred and released her. He turned her around and kept her within the cradle of his arms. The warm water sprayed them.

  She touched the scruff along his square jaw. “You gonna wash my back?”

  He grinned.

  “ECHO.”

  She awoke at the sound of her name, and rose up to her elbows. After dinner and a few glasses of wine, not to mention the physical release from the great sex, she’d felt exhausted enough to go to bed. She slept naked, figuring River might end up waking her.

  As predicted, he stood next to her bed, also naked, his cock already at full mast. Good and mighty gods. He was insatiable. She wondered about the other men. Would they be as virile? At this rate, she might not be able to keep up. The spirit was willing, but her thighs would need a damn break.

  What the hell had she gotten herself into?

  She scooted to the middle of the bed, flinging open the covers. “C’mon.”

  He crawled into bed.

  “Can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “I swear to the gods, I can smell you all the way down the hall.”

  “Is that typical?”

  “Not like this. The urge to mate has never been so strong.”

  “How many festivals have you celebrated?”

  “A lot,” he said. “You’ve been the first since…” He sucked in a breath, and looked at her with a shocked expression.

  Alarm zipped through her. “Since?”

  “Forever,” he muttered. Then he was on her with fingers stroking and mouth devouring. He sucked on her nipples, and stroked her clit. She’d never affected any man this way. It was somewhat gratifying to know she could merit such a response, even if she had the help of the encroaching full moon.

  She was tired, but her body responded to his touch. Tingling heat spread through her, and she got instantly wet for him. He slid two fingers inside her and worked her until she was soaked. She grasped his cock and stroked his length.

  He
rolled her onto her stomach. He knelt over her, planting his knees on either side of her hips. His big palms slid down her back, massaging. Her sensitized nipples rubbed against the soft sheets.

  “With you, Echo, I want. I need. I feel crazed.”

  “I’m flattered. Except we both know it’s the full moon.” She moaned as he worked the knots loose from her shoulders. “Every werewolf’s pheromones go crazy during this time of month.”

  “It’s you,” he said. He stopped rubbing her back. Then he shifted so that he was between her legs. He lifted her by the hips, so that her ass was practically in his face. Then he worked his cock into her swollen heat, and began to thrust.

  Her hands fisted in the pillow as he rammed into her. His fingers dug into her thighs. She delighted in the fierceness of his possession.

  Then he groaned, filling her to the very brink, and came.

  She was still panting, so very close to orgasm, when he flipped her onto her back. He knelt between her thighs and leaned down to suckle her clit.

  She came so hard she nearly levitated. As pleasure crashed through her, he slipped inside her again, and rode the bliss with her.

  WHEN ECHO WOKE up, she was alone.

  She dragged herself to the shower and stayed under the pulsing jets for a long time. By the time she finished, she felt much better. One of the many wonderful aspects of werewolf physiology was quick healing. The bruises inflicted by her first lover were already fading, as were the aches and twinges incurred by his passion. She looked through her scant clothing, wondering if she should even bother with dressing. Gods knew she hadn’t had an opportunity to wear her clothes for very long. What if the other two had the same appetite as River?

 

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