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

by Alexis Wilde

  But they were pack. Pack shared, and more than that, pack cared about things like respect. Like dominance.

  He couldn’t claim all of her firsts.

  “Natalie—”

  “Oh, God, yes, okay,” she managed. “Okay! Please!”

  He smiled. At the least, he could claim this. Jackson dragged his tongue across the cleft between her cheeks, and while she was still trying to deal with the shock—maybe the embarrassment—he framed that perfect little spot of nerves and muscle and plunged his tongue inside.

  Her hair tumbled over her back as she threw back her head and shrieked.

  But she didn’t try to evade him. Her hips pushed back against him, her back curved, hands leaving her hair to thud against the wall. Brace herself. Jackson buried his mouth against her flesh, rimmed her with his tongue over and over, in and out. She practically sucked at him, her body flowering under his tongue until the tight ring of muscle relaxed.

  Her arousal gleamed against her thighs, so wet she was all but dripping with it. She keened with every breath, sheared off to a sound that seemed half moan, half growl. Jackson bathed in that sound, rolled in it—wanted more. He slipped one hand between her legs, cupped her wet pussy as he licked and laved and feasted at flesh he knew was virginal.

  He couldn’t take her there, but he’d take what he could get.

  And Natalie gave everything.

  Her nails tore furrows into the wall as he slipped three fingers into her pussy. Her muscles, slick and hot, clamped down on him as she pushed back against his mouth. She rode him, gasping, pleading, her face hidden but every fiber of her body in tune to what he was doing to her—God, she was magnificent. Perfect.

  His body fought him, his wolf slammed against its restraints—wanting, demanding. Her. More.

  Jackson leashed it down with the fraying rope of his control. He wouldn’t hurt her, he’d never hurt her, but he might hurt the twins if he didn’t get a handle on this.

  She wanted what she wanted.

  He’d give her that much.

  Hell, as he licked at her ass and fucked her pussy with his fingers, as he prepped her body for the twins—soaked the air with her fragrance and her cries—Jackson watched her unravel and knew he’d give her anything.

  No matter what it cost him.

  Chapter Six

  Her orgasm took the edge off her embarrassment, bled some of the heat surging through her body, but as Natalie sagged against the wall, she knew it wasn’t enough. Jackson had softened it, but hadn’t eased it.

  And oh, what he’d done. She’d been curious, but she’d never felt that. It was different in every way, more aggressively pleasurable—a tide that swept through her and stripped all her thoughts away until all she could think about was the feel of his tongue inside her. His fingers in her sex.

  She wanted more.

  Jackson stood, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “Natalie?”

  What did it say about her that she wanted to laugh? It simmered within her, this sultry heat that felt different from what she remembered of the cycle. She was still shaking, still panting, but as she pushed back her hair and turned in his arm, her lips curved up in a smile she couldn’t stop.

  His eyes were dark in the dim corridor, but searing. She shivered at their intensity.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He stepped back, reluctantly pulling away. Letting her stand on her own.

  She appreciated that.

  But he didn’t leave her. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

  She swallowed hard. “Stay.” She held out a hand. “Please.”

  Jackson studied it for a moment, watched as it trembled in the air between them. Then, with a nod, he took her hand in his larger, callused palm and let her lead him back to the door.

  She was strong. She knew that, felt that—as if in this moment, she could do anything. Be anything.

  Take anything she wanted.

  And give, too.

  The brothers were stone still where she’d left them. Damien had turned back into a human, and his form and physique was almost identical to his brother’s. The same short blonde hair, the same ice blue eyes. Hard muscle in leaner definition. Damien sat on the floor, the embers in the fireplace gilding his extraordinarily pale skin with a copper glow. Alek sat on the sofa, knees splayed and elbows braced on them, effortlessly confident.

  She wanted to lick them. Taste them. Explore the ropy definition of their bodies.

  Watch eyes like a winter storm light up.

  But Damien watched her with a scowl she couldn’t ignore.

  What Jackson had told her said everything she needed to know. If it had been her, she’d never get over the guilt of it—knowing that she’d forced her sibling to abandon his place of strength and community all because she hadn’t been considered strong enough. She could only imagine the reality of it, but she understood.

  Alek watched her warily as she let go of Jackson’s hand and crossed the study floor. The bare wood gave way to a soft rug, and Damien’s eyes blanked in icy warning.

  Nerves skittered down her spine.

  Jackson leaned against the wall by the door, folding his arms over his chest and watching in silence. She didn’t have to look to know he was there. She could smell his deep forest fragrance, feel him like a reassuring weight behind her.

  Alek’s gaze flicked to him.

  Then back to Natalie.

  Something flickered there, something she desperately wanted to explore—hunger, maybe. Wanting.

  Caution.

  But it was Damien she remained fixated on as she drew to a stop in front of him. He remained seated, lean body hunkered down like he didn’t have a care in the world, but she knew better. She could sense it on him, a thin veneer of confidence that felt like it would crumble the second she made a wrong move. Said a wrong word.

  Her heart throbbed for him. For them both, these twins joined at the hip and unable to ease the baggage they carried.

  Natalie understood baggage.

  Damien’s lips peeled back from his teeth.

  Alek’s legs shifted, a careful bracing of his booted feet against the floor—ready to move, to protect her. Or to protect his brother.

  Which would he choose?

  Natalie hoped he wouldn’t have to.

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her lungs squeezed. Everything in her wanted to gasp for air, to break the tension coiled between them all like a spring wound too tight, but she didn’t. Very slowly, she let out her breath. Sank to her knees in front of Damien—not Alek. Not the strongest, but the weaker.

  Behind her, she felt as much as heard Jackson brace himself.

  It was a risk. A calculated one. In her old pack, acknowledging the weaker wolf before the stronger was reason enough for challenge—or for punishment.

  Her muscles strained. Her heart slammed in her hears, but she kept her eyes on Damien’s pale stare.

  Eased herself to the carpet in front of him, braced herself on her hands until her head was lower than his—her face tipped up, his eyes glued to her. His hands curled into taut fists against the floor, close enough to her knees that if he lashed out, she’d be hurt.

  But he wouldn’t. She had faith.

  His eyes widened. Caution fractured.

  Alek said nothing. Did nothing.

  He understood. Relief slammed into her, making her giddy, but Natalie didn’t dare relax. Not yet.

  Not until Damien looked away, tearing his gaze from hers to look not at Jackson, but Alek.

  Another strange thing. He should have been asking Jackson for permission—asking the highest rank among them. But Jackson said nothing at all. He just watched. Stayed.

  In her peripheral, Alek’s head turned.

  She’d bet everything he’d looked at Jackson, who must have given a sign, because very slowly, Alek’s hand pulled up from between his knees to skim every so gently down Natalie’s tousled hair. “This is Natalie,” h
e said, his voice a quiet thrum.

  A low sound rippled out from Damien’s chest. Then, huskily, “Natalie.”

  She smiled. “Hello, Damien.”

  His jaw shifted. Slowly, like his brother, he raised a hand, but his fingertips skimmed her cheek instead of her hair. Again, he glanced at Alek. Again, the other twin nodded.

  Surreal. She’d never actually seen twins, they were rare enough in the bloodlines. Alek and Damien were two halves of a breath-taking whole, identical faces with identical voices. But the power dynamics between them, the way Damien constantly looked to his brother as if afraid he’d make the wrong decision on his own, tugged at her heart.

  Damien wasn’t weak. He didn’t smell weak, he didn’t look weak.

  She trusted her wolf enough to understand that weak werewolves weren’t on the menu.

  But Damien was.

  Alek was.

  How could she get them to understand?

  Her only tools were wrapped up in the heat shimmering through her body. Eased by Jackson’s attentions in the hall, now it sparkled and popped inside her skin—and turned her voice throaty as she tipped her face into Damien’s hand. “I want you,” she whispered.

  His hand jerked.

  Alek went still at her side.

  Before Damien could withdrawn, she clasped her hand to his against her face, held it so she could press her lips into his palm. Even as she turned her gaze to Alek. “Can I?” Sweat gleamed on Damien’s moonlight pale skin. She could smell it, and the fragrance was like a beacon.

  Alek eased out a careful breath. “If you want one,” he said, his eyes steady on hers, “you take both.”

  By the door, Jackson rumbled a warning. “She’s not used to everything. You’ll have to teach her.”

  “Fuck,” Damien breathed.

  “Understood.” Alek’s sculpted mouth eased into a smile that turned his strongly Slavik features into something dazzling. “Dema?”

  “You first, brother.”

  Natalie wasn’t sure what had just been decided, but it didn’t matter. As Damien uncurled from the floor, and she caught sight of the whole of him for the first time, her body gave up on sparkles and rolled into hunger instead. Damien’s abdominal muscles were perfectly defined, as mouth-watering as Alek’s, and his cock jutted pale and strong, long and already harder than she’d expected.

  Was it her?

  Was it because Jackson had driven her so wild, she couldn’t stop her screams in the hall beyond?

  Alek followed the line of her stare, and his eyes twinkled. “You are hungry.”

  “Oh, God, yes,” she breathed.

  “Then come here.”

  She turned as Alek opened his knees wider, crawled to the space on the floor his brother indicated. Both men were unbelievably gorgeous. She couldn’t decide where to look first, how much she should stare before asking to touch. To taste.

  Damien’s fingers touched her back, a gentle exploration that seared through her T-shirt. They skimmed her shoulder, and then ever so carefully, eased into her hair. He gathered the sleep-tangled mass of waves back. Shivers raced down her scalp. Her back.

  Alek set his hands by his hips, laid them palm down on the cushions of the couch. “Slowly,” he cautioned, but if it was to her or to his brother, Natalie didn’t know.

  She wasn’t sure she could handle slow.

  Especially when Damien, holding her hair in one loose fist, knelt behind her and fit his hips against her backside. Naked. They were both naked, her from the waist down and him head to toe, and the hot, taut skin of his cock fit against her ass like it was made for her. She gasped, shuddering, but Damien leaned over her back, tugging her head back by the air to order hungrily, “Give her your cock, Sasha. I want to feel how wet it makes her.”

  “Oh,” she managed, trembling.

  “Then,” Alek said, grabbing the hem of her T-shirt, “take this shirt off. I want to see those gorgeous tits.”

  The carnal heat in that order wrapped her up in a choking tide of hunger too far pushed to make it through with any patience. She let Alek strip off her shirt, heard his low sound of approval as her unbound breasts spilled into his hands.

  Heard Jackson’s carefully muffled growl. Approval. From all sides. It slipped over her like a hand, filled her body with anticipation.

  “Jesus God,” Alek whispered hoarsely, cradling her. He stroked his thumbs over the tight beads of her nipples, his eyes lit to an unholy flame. “Has anyone fucked you here?”

  Natalie sank back into Damien’s chest. He pressed his hips into hers, fit so snuggly in the cleft of her backside that she could barely think. Her sex throbbed, aching and empty. So close.

  She whimpered.

  “Say it,” Damien whispered in her ear, and then bit down on her lobe.

  “No,” she gasped. “God. No, but I… Please. I want you to.”

  Damien groaned in her ear, almost a growl.

  Strong fingers pinched at her nipples, rolled them gently—and then not so gently when she arched her back, reaching back with a hand to grab Damien shoulder and hang on.

  Alek peeled his jeans down, baring a cock that was almost exactly like his brother’s. She wanted to laugh—in giddy amazement, in delight—but all she could do was lick her lips and press back against Damien, cup her own breast with her left hand. Lift herself for him.

  For them both.

  Alek groaned. He wrapped his fingers around his erection, stroked himself as Damien reached around her to cup both of her breasts, squeezed them until she shuddered.

  “Fuck,” Alek growled, a mirrored echo of his brother’s. “Together.”

  The very tip of his cock touched her left nipple. Pre-come oozed from it, glistening like a pearl as he dragged it over the tight bead.

  She jerked.

  Damien reached between them to tuck his cock between her thighs—notch it just so at her sex. He twitched. His flesh nudged her clit.

  She cried out. Reached out blindly and flattened her other hand against the warm, hard muscle of Alek’s side. Skin to skin, hot and smooth in front of her and behind.

  “Sasha?” Damien’s voice shuddered, locked down so tightly, she could all but feel the bonds of his control straining. Weakening.

  Alek smiled—a taut curve the betrayed the calm he appeared to excel at. He cupped her chin, tilted her face up. “Natalie?”

  She could barely get the word out around the ache infusing her—the fire licking at her from every side. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”

  His eyes, paler than winter sky, warmed. “Now, Dema.”

  As if that was all the signal Damien had waited for, he gritted out something that sounded like relief—like hunger twisted up with disbelief, awe. Lust. They moved at the same time. Alek’s cock slipped between her heavy breasts, stroked up her flesh with a powerful thrust, just as Damien’s slid home into her body. The walls of her sex shuddered at the intrusion—the nerves at her breasts tingled and throbbed.

  Natalie groaned, a ragged gasp that left no room for words. At her back, Damien growled; a sound he couldn’t seem to hold back. Like his wolf was closer to the surface than he wanted it to be. Alek—calmer than his brother, quieter, more in control—set his jaw, angled himself just right and pillowed her breasts around his pale cock.

  Her body moved in ways Natalie didn’t know it could, arching her back to give the man in front of her a better angle. Her hips tilted up, bared her sex to Damien’s intrusion like she couldn’t get enough.

  And she couldn’t. As tight as she felt pinned between them, supported by Damien’s arm around her waist and Alek’s hands at her chest, it wasn’t enough. In and out, Alek thrust into her cleavage, seared her skin with the heat of his body. The muscles of his thighs bulged as he held himself upright, trembled. His eyes flashed as she rocked into him, pushed into an opposing rhythm by Damien’s own strength.

  Two cocks. Two. At the same time. She’d never had her breasts fucked before, had never thought it would
be worth doing, but oh, God, the way he slid his length over her skin, cords in his throat, said she’d been wrong. It was as much a turn on as anything she’d ever done.

  And his pleasure only made her all the more aware that his brother thrust into her sex from behind.

  Brothers. Together.

  With her.

  Natalie dipped her head, opened her mouth to lick at Alek’s cock as it pushed up past her breasts. He gasped, her body clenched.

  Damien swore. “Again.”

  Alek did, obliging them both—his brother who rode her with something close to fury simmering under his skin, and Natalie who wanted to feel him more. Taste Alek more. To tip her head and open her mouth and let his cock slide inside, skin to lips.

  She shuddered as the taste of him, salty and bitter and overwhelmingly masculine, spread on her tongue.

  Damien strangled on another sound caught between words and snarling effort, doubling over her as her sex clamped down on him. He flattened a hand on the floor by Natalie, sweat gleaming on his skin. “More,” he gritted out. To punctuate the order, he thrust harder.

  Pushed her against Alek.

  Who fucked her breasts like he’d never seen anything so perfect.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Damien wrapped a wiry arm around her ribs, wrenched her up onto her knees, away from his brother’s cock with such effortless strength that the room spun. His hand closed over Natalie’s throat.

  For the first time since falling out of that box, since Ben’s gentle reassurance countered his eerie quiet, fear gripped Natalie’s chest.

  * * *

  Alek sensed the intent before Jackson moved. Knew exactly how far his brother pushed when a low growl trickled from the stronger werewolf’s throat.

  It was costing him everything to stand there and watch.

  Everything to trust.

  Alek understood. His brother didn’t. Not now, not when he was balls-deep in a woman as sweet and soft and wet as Natalie Baker. He’d known it would be like this.

  He was ready.

  By the time the first flicker of fear filled Natalie’s sweet blue eyes, he’d closed the distance Damien had forced between them. Reached past her head to grab him by the back of the neck, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.