Mated for Keeps Boxed Set: a BBW Werewolf Shifter Romance (The Lost River Pack)

by Alexis Wilde

  To be a kind of freedom.

  She wanted a taste of that freedom now.

  The cabin was quiet. The faintest threads of light pooled through the skylights—she figured it wasn’t that long past dawn.

  Her bare feet rustled gently on the rug. She padded down the hall, her skin prickling, breath heavy in her chest as she curled her fingers into the front of the T-shirt. Her heart slammed, a heady refrain that had her pausing to brace herself against the wall and fight for breath.

  Her body throbbed. If she stopped right here, if she slid her own fingers against the front of her panties, dragged her fingertips over the aching bead of her clit, she could come right here. Right now.

  But it wouldn’t be enough.

  She wanted more. She wanted to be touched, to be needed. Filled.

  Filled to breaking.

  A small sound from an archway across the hall sharpened her gaze. Her nostrils flared. She drew the air into her lungs, senses snapping to attention as two new scents earned her wolf’s panting focus. Males. Two of them, mostly unfamiliar. A lingering echo of something nagged at her scattered thoughts, but Natalie didn’t stop to sort it out. It didn’t matter.

  She padded to the open archway, fingers sliding along the wall, catching at the corner as she found herself looking into the kind of room she’d have called a man-cave. The type of den that was all heavy, dark furniture, a pool table, bookshelves filled with a mix of books and entertainment.

  The remains of a fire glowed in the fireplace, embers glowing dull red among blackened ash.

  Sprawled on the sofa, shirtless but with his boots still on, the man she’d seen but hadn’t met lay fast asleep. Alek. She recognized the close-cropped style of his dark blonde hair, the lean athleticism of his build. He was whipcord muscle where Jackson was solid, with skin pale as moonlight. His beautifully defined chest rose and fell with every deep breath.

  Natalie’s stare followed the shape of his chiseled abs, the faint glow of his darker body hair as it traced a line into his unbuttoned jeans. They rested so low, she knew without a doubt that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  It’d be so easy to ease her hands into that open zipper. Wrap her fingers around his cock, stroke him to an erection. Taste him.

  Take him.

  Make him take her.

  Except he wasn’t alone.

  A wolf sprawled on the outer edge of the cushions, his muscular body too big to fit alongside Alek without mashing him into the back of the couch. He was beautiful, with tawny fur tipped with black, and varied patterns of white and gray over his paws and chest. The smell of him, sharp and fresh—a bitter wind on a snowy day—seared through her senses, her lungs, filling her belly with ice and fire.

  They were similar in smell. Different, but also the same.

  This was Damien, then. Alek’s twin brother, the youngest of the two.

  Would they share a face? Would they both sound the same when they came inside her? Her mouth dried. Her fingers twitched.

  The wolf’s ears flicked.

  Natalie took a step forward, unaware she did until Damien’s eyes opened. They were stunning yellow framed in black, sheened with a golden light that reflected back the glowing embers of the dying fire. His head lifted, smooth and fast. The black line of his lips peeled back, bared his teeth.

  Anger. No, fury. She could feel it in him, all but sense it on the air between them. A rage so deep, it made a winter storm feel like a beach day. Warning flickered in that stare, and more. Something deeper, something worse.

  Fear.

  Of her? For her?

  He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. Natalie froze in place, her heart in her throat, gaze caught by the ferocity of yellow eyes and a soundless growl.

  As if he knew, Alek’s eyes flicked open. His head turned, his gaze followed the line of his brother’s glare—God, whatever he thought, it flared like a beacon in the shadows of the den. In stark contrast, the feel of his gaze on her bare legs, the liquid slide of it as he traced the line where the hem barely brushed the tops of her thighs, seared her flesh.

  Fire and ice. So different, even as they both burned.

  Natalie gasped, a breath of mingled fear and desperation. Her pulse pounded so hard, she couldn’t hear anything but the rhythm of her hunger. Frightened, yes, she was that. And nervous.

  And uncertain.

  But oh, God, she wanted to sink her fingers into that wolf’s thick ruff. Ease her hands over his haunches.

  Stroke the softest fur behind his ears.

  And when she was done with that, she wanted him to shift into human form so she could do it all over again—this time against his bare skin. Open her mouth over his cock while Alek licked her into stunning release.

  She felt so wrong.

  A footstep thudded softly behind her.

  Damien’s powerful shoulders tightened. His body locked down, ears laying flat, as he gathered himself—to leap, to howl, something savage and fierce.

  Alek locked a powerful arm across his brother’s chest, jerked him hard against his own just as another arm wrapped around Natalie’s ribs. The wolf whined sharply, but Natalie muffled a startled shriek as Jackson plucked her bodily off her feet and yanked her back out into the hall.

  The wall thudded as her shoulders collided with the polished wood, slammed again as Jackson palmed the wall beside her head and corralled her into place. Her breasts flattened against his chest.

  His eyes blazed down into hers, wild green and already lit to a hungry gleam.

  “Not,” he growled between his teeth, “a good idea.”

  Her fingers closed in the front of his T-shirt, pulled the fabric taut against his straining muscles. He smelled, oh, so good. Hot and close and smoldering. But even as she licked her lips, shuddering in Jackson’s grasp, her senses strained for more of the males beyond the wall. Alek’s murmur, low and unintelligible, and Damien’s muted growl combined to twist something up inside her.

  Something dangerous and a little darker than she was used to.

  Scarier than Ben’s effortless domination. Than Jackson’s unbridled strength as he pinned her in place.

  Her voice shook with it. “I know,” she said breathlessly. “I know, but I…” She raised her chin, met Jackson’s stare. “I have to meet them.”

  “Meet,” he repeated, a world of subtext wrapped in the word. His hand shifted, eased into her sleep-tousled hair like he couldn’t help himself. The small touch, the warmth of his palm, seeped into her scalp. Her senses.

  She shuddered.

  “The wolf,” he murmured, “is Damien. Alek’s brother.”

  “I remember,” Natalie whispered. Her back flattened against the wall as he shifted closer. One knee eased between hers, separating her bare legs until the hard muscle of his thigh tucked against her. Hot, strong. She sucked in a breath. “He’s…” Angry? Afraid? She wasn’t sure the right answer.

  Jackson’s other hand skated across her breast, a feather-light touch at odds with the leg he pressed into her sex. She gasped. “They came to Nico,” he said tightly, his gaze flicking to the study door, “when their pack turned out the weak.”

  Her eyes widened. “They were kicked out?”

  A corner of Jackson’s mouth kicked into a feral line of sharp humor. Maybe it would have scared her once, but the press of his thigh muscle into her sex, the warmth of his fingers as they closed over her breast, kept her too narrowly balanced on an edge between intensity and seduction—sensual hunger and vicious need.

  Her blood seared in her veins. Pulsed in her ears.

  Arousal dampened the fabric of Jackson’s jeans. His thigh muscle flexed.

  Natalie bit back a groan as the flesh between her legs warmed. Her hips tilted. He pressed harder. Ground his leg against her, tucked her hard into that wall until she could feel the ridge of his erection against her hip. His fingers closed over her nipple, taut behind her borrowed T-shirt. She hissed out a shuddering breath.

  “
Damien was,” he said huskily. “Just him.”

  Oh. Oh, no.

  She didn’t need it spelled out. The packs weren’t known to be soft when numbers got too big for the territory. The weak were culled or kicked out, and that was that. Wolves didn’t turn on their packs. Didn’t abandon each other once accepted. Damien was tossed out, and Alek—considered stronger—had given up everything to follow. Earned for himself a reputation for betrayal.

  That explained a lot.

  And made her curious. Made her wolf want to test them harder. Push them farther. Together.

  She shivered, back arching to give Jackson unfettered access to her breasts. To bring him harder, hot and unyielding, against her body. It dragged her sex against his leg, forced a low growl from him as she bit her lip and swallowed a moan. She wanted, so much, but this wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what her wolf hungered for.

  She grabbed at his arm, fingers digging into his biceps so hard, he hissed out a warning between clenched teeth. “Please,” she whispered. “I have to meet them. I have to…” Touch them. Try them. Taste them. She licked at her dry lips.

  He blew out a long breath. It stirred the loose waves of her hair by her cheek.

  Her nails dug into his arm. “Jackson.”

  “I know,” he said huskily. “I know, it’s just complicated.” He looked again at the door, then back to her as if weighing the odds.

  Natalie shifted against his leg. Ground herself against him in a wordless plea. Her body clenched.

  He eased his leg away. “Okay. Trust me?”

  She was nodding before her brain even registered the question.

  Oh, yes. She trusted him. Somehow, for reasons she couldn’t place, she trusted him with everything that she was. Her body. Her safety.

  Jackson’s hand slid to her jaw. His thumb rasped against her bottom lip. “Then brace yourself, sweetheart.”

  * * *

  Jackson could feel her shaking, aware of every tiny breath, gasp and shudder as he turned her slowly around. Pushed her up against the wall and pinned her there with one palm, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades. Her skin was hot through the thin T-shirt. The hem hiked a fraction, bared a sliver of pale white cotton stretched over mouth-watering curves, sexy and so perfect he could barely keep from tearing the T-shirt off her right here in the hall.

  But this wasn’t for him.

  Not entirely, anyway.

  Natalie’s hands thumped against the wall in gentle echo of the heartbeat slamming against his palm. She closed her eyes, her cheeks red with the fever gripping her. With the hunger he could smell on her skin.

  He had no doubt Damien could, too. The question was whether it’d be enough.

  It was no secret. They all carried a chip on their shoulders, but Damien’s was a little bigger. A little more jagged. Cut with whatever scars left by the fact he’d cost his brother the security of a pack, and Jackson had no doubt that Damien suffered from a caustic mix of jealousy and adoration, gratitude and guilt. It made him fiercely protective of Alek—and divisive as fuck.

  Natalie needed them, that much was clear, but could Damien’s wolf handle it? Without hurting anyone?

  And worse, if he did hurt her, would Damien survive the regret it’d score in his soul forever?

  No. Jackson’s job was to ensure Natalie’s safety, and the health of his pack. They all needed to ensure the health of the pack, and Damien was no exception. He trusted the twins.

  But he’d do everything he could to make damn sure that trust wasn’t in vain.

  Jackson sank to his knees. Her fists curled into the wall; her spine tilted subtly, pushed her hips out just enough that he knew she wanted him—whatever he had planned, whatever he wanted to give her, she’d take it. Willingly. Hungrily.

  Her pale thighs gleamed in the shadowed corridor. The sun had kissed her face and arms, but faded to her natural color where she’d kept herself covered—and that seemed to him like a crime. That she’d cover this beautiful body, hide herself away.

  Never again. Jackson eased his hands up her soft skin, desperate to touch—to feel her, warm and lush and alive. She jerked once, then squeezed her eyes shut tighter and trembled in leashed silence. Her small, breathy sounds of anticipation drew shorter, faster, until his fingertips grazed the edge of the T-shirt—his, his wolf growled—and dipped beneath.

  Her fragrance filled his nose. She was already so wet. “Did you wake up hungry, sweetheart?”

  She shuddered. “Yes.”

  “We should have been there,” he murmured roughly, and skimmed the T-shirt away from her plain white underwear. The material was so thin, it was almost translucent. It did nothing to hide her curves, or the darker fabric where her arousal had already dampened it. His mouth watered to taste her.

  And he would. Right here in the hall, right now.

  Because they weren’t alone, and he knew it. A few steps away, barred only by this wall and the open door, he knew Alek and Damien were there. Hearing. Smelling.

  And unless they were dead inside, wanting.

  Jackson smiled as he flattened a hand over the small of her back. She turned her face into the wall, sucking in air.

  “You are so sensitive,” he whispered against the skin just over her waistband. His tongue flicked out, stole a taste. She eased out her breath.

  “S-sorry.”

  “No apologies.” He hooked the waistband, tugged it down. Slowly. Torturously slow, knowing the wet material would catch against her pussy and peel away in excruciating pleasure. She cried out. “Just let me ease the way for you.”

  Her nails bit into the wall. “Please!”

  God, how beautiful was she? Cast in shadow and light, skin flushed and T-shirt askew, with her ass bared for him and her legs trembling, she was a goddess in her own right—sensual, sensitive. Ready.

  Jackson couldn’t take a breath without filling his lungs with her. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his jeans, hard as hell and hungry for her pussy. For her orgasm. He knew what it was to be milked by her body, to be pushed by her cries.

  To lose himself in her.

  But this wasn’t about him. He closed his hands over her hips, pulled her back on her heels, and while she was still adjusting to the sudden shift, he buried his mouth at her wet pussy.

  She wasn’t ready for it. Not for that. He could sense it in the way she went shock still in his grasp, hear it in the strangled protest marred by the shuddering moan she couldn’t hold back. Her skin was hot and wet against his tongue, her taste spread into his mouth like a fever, and he lapped at her soft folds without mercy. Without giving her an inch of ground to retreat from.

  Natalie’s hips jerked in his hand, her hair tumbled over her shoulder like a sable curtain hiding her face, but he knew. Knew how her body blossomed beneath his mouth, how her pleasure rolled through her. His tongue plunged deep inside her pussy, dragged from her another raw sound.

  From the study beyond them, a man’s voice growled.

  Jackson couldn’t distinguish the two just by sound, but it didn’t matter which brother it was. Hook one, the other would come—if everything went right.

  His guts clenched, vicious need winnowing through his goodwill. It would be too easy to stand up, to plunge his dick into her, claim her mouth for the kind of kiss she’d denied him once—to demand that she choose him. Mate with him, and no one else.

  Easy, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

  He eased away from her wet flesh, and she took a shaking breath.

  Relief.

  “Oh, no,” Jackson warned, a throaty rasp. His fingers bit into her hips as she tried to move—maybe to turn and straddle him, maybe something else. He couldn’t let her back out now. “We’re not done yet.”

  Her head ducked, shoulders moving as she splayed her fingers wide against the wall. “Jackson,” she whimpered. His cock jumped. He set his teeth. “Jackson, please. I can’t…I can’t!”

  “You can,” he said tightly, and without giving
her any more opportunity to wrap her words around him like a fist to his cock, he pushed her flat against the wall, eased his thumbs along the cleft of her ass, and spread her flesh for him to admire.

  “Jacks—Oh, God,” she managed, the words strangled in surprise as he touched a thumb to the small ring of flesh bared for him.

  She was perfect everywhere.

  “I said,” he murmured, “the twins do everything together, didn’t I?”

  Natalie’s hands left the wall to bury into her own hair, hiding her face again. “Th-That’s… I don’t…” It cracked.

  “You can,” he told her, and breathed out over the flesh he bared. She jumped. “Trust me, Natalie. Trust us to make you feel good.” His thump pressed against the ring of muscle. It twitched as her hips jerked back. “We can do it here. Your pussy. Your mouth. Whatever you want. Wherever you want it.”

  “Oh, God,” she panted, “oh, God, oh, God.”

  He turned his head, pressed a kiss to the curve of her ass. “As much as you want.”

  Sweat already bloomed across her back. The T-shirt stuck to her skin.

  Her hands made fists in her hair, forearms flattened against the wall. “I don’t know.”

  “I do.” Jackson opened his mouth over the other cheek, flicking his tongue over her skin as he pressed a little harder against her ass. It clenched. Her whole body clenched. Did she know how it reacted to him?

  She sobbed against the wall, not with fear—he’d know it if it was. This wasn’t fear tilting her hips back against him. It wasn’t nerves that had her heart racing. He could smell it on her, feel the way she put herself in his hands.

  But he wanted the words. “Let me lick you, Natalie.”

  She moaned.

  “Let me taste you here.” A delicate press. Her body parted just a fraction. Enough that he knew it’d be as warm and wet inside there as it was in her pussy. Goddamn. He was jealous.

  Whichever one of the werewolves got here first, he’d forever envy.