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Tempted by Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Hungry for Her Wolves Book 4)

Page 24

by Tara West


  He panted into her mouth while he burst inside her, throbbing so hard, she didn’t know if the pulses were coming from her or him.

  She was abruptly aware of her bare toes, that she was cold, and she shivered again. He kissed her more tenderly, then carried her into the house with her still impaled on his cock. He laid her on the bed and tenderly made love to her. Soon his brothers joined them, and they fucked well into the morning.

  Epilogue

  EILEA DRAGGED HERSELF into the kitchen, with Jovan, who’d been her assistant for the day, following her.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Marius said, setting a platter of barbeque on the table.

  “Thank the Ancients. I’m famished.” Marius knew how much she missed her uncle’s cooking. Lately he’d been recreating her favorite recipes, including his cornbread and pulled pork.

  She and her mates sat around the table and ate. Boris glanced at the four empty seats at the opposite end of the long table. His sons had been coming in later and later each night, and some nights not coming home at all. They spent too much time at the pub, drowning their sorrows. Tatiana still refused to commit to a bonding date.

  “Have a busy day today?” Marius asked as he poured her a glass of wine.

  She added a generous amount of butter and honey to her cornbread. “Mended two broken bones and delivered a baby.” She clasped Marius’s hand. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  He chuckled. “Every day, and I never tire of it. I love you more than life, Eilea. I thank the Ancients every day for you.”

  “We all do,” her other mates chimed in unison.

  She looked at them from under her lashes. With the exception of her brooding stepsons, and the occasional sneers from her mates’ former in-laws, life in Romania had been idyllic. “Do you?”

  “Da.” Geri set down his utensils, giving her a look so intense, it made her gooseflesh rise. “They couldn’t have matched us with a more perfect mate.”

  “Ditto. Perfect mates in the kitchen”—she gave them a sideways smile—“and in bed.”

  They gazed at her like she was a choice cut of prime beef. She gulped her wine, not caring that it went to her head. Her mates were in a kinky sex kind of mood. Hopefully they’d break out the handcuffs and blindfold. She loved playing the game where she guessed who was fucking her. If she got it right, she was rewarded with an intense orgasm. If she got it wrong, she was punished with a lot more spanking, teasing, and delayed climax. Honestly, she preferred to be wrong most of the time.

  After dinner, they sat around the fireplace, ignoring the television that hadn’t been turned on in weeks.

  “Come sit.” Boris patted his lap. “Tell us about this baby.”

  She sat on his lap, grinding her bottom into his growing erection. “He was her third, so it was easy.”

  Boris arched an eyebrow. “For you or for her?”

  “For both of us.” She laughed. “But not for her mates. They were nervous wrecks.”

  Marius held up a hand. “I was nervous when our sons were born.”

  “Were you?” She wasn’t shocked. Marius was the most sensitive of her mates.

  “Da. I’ve been worried about those boys ever since. They languish, waiting for their mate.”

  She nodded in sympathy, regretting going down that rabbit hole. Their boys had been a source of consternation lately, snapping at each other over the slightest things. Eilea knew their edges would soften as soon as they bonded with Tatiana.

  “Give Tatiana some time,” she said. “She’ll come around.”

  “I hope so,” Geri said, dragging a hand through his hair.

  A strange feeling came over her. Gripping her gut, she looked between her legs. What the hell was that?

  Boris tensed under her. “What is it?”

  Panic made her heart flutter. “I felt the oddest sensation, like a flower blooming inside me.”

  He stared at her a long moment, a tic in his jaw. “Eilea”—he enunciated each word—“your womb is ready.”

  Realization dawned. Holy fuck! “Is it?”

  He inclined his head toward the bedroom. “If you want, we can make a child.”

  She looked at her mates, who were staring at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

  “N-Now?” she stammered.

  “Da. I’m not sure when or if we’ll have another chance.”

  Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her womb. “And you want this?”

  He settled his other hand over hers, squeezing. “For you to have our son? Nothing would make me happier but know that it would be unfair to bring an only shifter into the world. Are you prepared to give him a pack of brothers and a sister?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. One son for each of them, plus a girl. Five kids. Five beautiful bi-racial American/Romanian wolf shifters. Was that what she wanted? She thought back to her sad childhood, her lonely bedroom, evenings spent alone while her grandmother slept in her chair. Losing her brother and parents had been the most miserable experience of her life. Now she had the chance at another family, a big one, a house full of playful, happy children, and she knew without a doubt that was exactly what she wanted.

  “Yes. Yes,” she cried. “I want this. All of this.”

  Her mates howled their joy.

  A wolfish smile split Boris’s face. “Then you shall have it.”

  THE END

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  In the meantime, read on for a sample from Fighting for Her Wolves.

  Fighting for Her Wolves, Hungry for Her Wolves Book Five

  Annie's battle for her mates is thwarted by a crazed chieftain and a tricky demon, forcing her to choose between fighting for love and saving her soul.

  Preorder Annie’s story, Fighting for Her Wolves. https://amzn.to/2EhqCrh

  Chapter One

  ANNIE FROWNED AT THE bead of sweat that had slipped down her cleavage. Holy shit, it was hot in Texas. She looked at her adoptive Uncle Van, sitting beside her in the back of the truck. As always, his eyes were sharp as he stared out the windows, not even bothering to wipe the moisture that beaded on his brow.

  Fanning her face, she leaned forward, grasping the back of her brother’s seat. “Hey, Roy. I’m dying back here.”

  “Sorry.” He nodded at the weathered truck dashboard. “A/C’s on full blast.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “I’m not going to last a week in this hell pit.” She eyed the dash, noting how both air vents were pointing toward her other adoptive uncle, Alaskan Amaroki chieftain, Tor Thunderfoot. The big shifter’s shoulders were wide enough that he needed his own zip code, and his long, peppered black hair did appear damp from sweat, but he could’ve given her a little air.

  She looked out the window at the sea of grass and bushes. She’d been expecting dirt and tumbleweeds. Texas wasn’t as beautiful as Alaska, but it would do. Still, she wouldn’t have flown here if the Texas chieftain hadn’t threatened to kill her brother. After she put the asshole in his place, she planned to stay inside the comfort of an air-conditioned house until it was time to return home to her mountains.

  “About accommodations.” Roy said nervously, his gaze flitting to Tor before catching Annie’s eye in the rearview mirror. “My apartment is only a one-bedroom, but you can have my bed, Annie, and I’ll take the sofa.”

  “Aw, thanks.” She smiled at her brother, patting his shoulder and hating how stiff he felt. He sure was wound up. Then again, he was a brand new federal agent, working as a liaison between the American government and the Amaroki species, an
d they had put him smack in the middle of a shifter civil war.

  Uncle Tor, who hadn’t said more than two words since they’d disembarked from the plane, cleared his throat. “She’s staying with us.”

  When Roy’s gaze darted to the grumpy shifter, Annie swore she heard him shart his pants.

  Though the cutting edge to Tor’s voice had sliced through the air like a razor, she refused to be deterred. She hadn’t seen her human half-brother in months. She wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to spend quality time with him.

  “Why can’t I stay with Roy?” Instantly regretting the whine in her voice, she bit her lip when Tor turned and gave her a sharp look.

  “You know why, Annie.”

  Damn. She turned up her chin, forcing herself to sound calm. “But I thought I was coming here to see him.”

  Tor answered with a grunt, indicating the discussion was over. She got that the friction among the shifters in the Laredo tribe had created a hostile environment, but this was their war, not hers. Tor had no reason to worry about her safety. Until the Alaskan tribe had discovered her and brought her to their reservation, she’d been living on her own. She loved being surrounded by her own kind, but she knew how to fend for herself, too.

  Folding her arms, she glared at the back of Tor’s head, ignoring Van, the pack’s tracker, when he chuckled. She shot him a glare. Though he was smaller than Tor, there was something more feral about him. It probably had something to do with his sharper canines and the way he could look at her as if he was looking through her. He unnerved her, though she wasn’t about to show it. She held his gaze until Roy hit a pothole, forcing her to look away. At least she pretended she’d been forced.

  Resigned to her fate of death by boredom, she cracked the window, hoping the breeze would cool her. She sniffed the air, surprised when she caught the scent of something familiar, a musky smell more tantalizing than fresh-baked chocolate brownies. She sniffed again, the smell tickling her senses before disappearing. Strange. What was that, and how could she get more of it?

  She vigorously rolled down the window, stuck her head out, and swore when she could no longer smell that delicious scent. Whimpering her sorrow, she hung out of the truck, panting while her heart raced and her libido cried more, more, more!

  She gasped when she was jerked back by a strong hand, barking and snapping at Van to let her go.

  The fine lines framing his eyes deepened. “What the hell?”

  Her chest heaved like she’d been running a marathon, and for a moment, she forgot where she was or what she’d been doing, her head was so fogged with memories of that heavenly scent. She released a slow breath as the truck came to a stop. Everyone was looking at her as if she’d grown a second head.

  “Well?” Tor demanded, his voice dropping to that deep protector baritone that rattled her insides.

  How could she answer when she couldn’t define what had happened to her? One second she’d been mind-numbingly bored and the next her heart was racing so fast, she wanted to jump out of her skin. She crossed one knee over the other, an uncomfortable ache settling between her legs. And that’s when it hit her. That scent belonged to male wolves.

  Please, Ancients, no!

  Her fated mates couldn’t be living in Texas’s sweaty armpit, smack in the middle of a civil war.

  ANNIE FELT AS IF SHE was walking in a dream when her brother helped her out of the truck. She frowned at the fresh, jagged scar on his temple, knowing she should be furious with the wolf who’d put it there, but she was too dazed to think about much else other than that heavenly smell. She’d heard her mates’ scent would draw her to them, but she’d had no idea they would smell so damn good and make her so freaking horny.

  When Roy slammed the door, she noticed for the first time the huge dent on the driver’s side, like a rhino had head-butted it. Had he been in an accident? Why hadn’t he told her?

  “Come on,” Roy said, tugging her toward the long, red brick ranch house.

  She walked like she had a stick wedged up her ass, trying hard to quell the desire that pounded like a drum between her legs. She had no idea who the hell these wolves were, but she sure hoped they presented themselves fast, and that they hastened the mating ceremony. As much as she didn’t want to live in Texas, her sexual desires eclipsed all her misgivings.

  “Annie, you okay?” Tor whispered as he flanked her other side, walking with her up the gravel path toward the young family of shifters.

  She plastered on a smile when the woman waved at her. “I-I don’t think so.”

  “You scented your mates?” he asked.

  She grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

  “They probably scented you, too,” he continued. “Let’s hope they’re not foes to the Coyotechasers.”

  “Yeah.” Annie swallowed a lump of apprehension. She’d been so distracted by her libido, she hadn’t even thought of that. The Coyotechasers were the pack that had basically usurped the old chieftain. She and her uncles would also be staying with the Coyotechasers during their visit.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you found your mates?” Roy hissed.

  “I did,” she snapped. “Why else do shifters try to crawl out of moving trucks with their tongues hanging out?”

  Before he could answer her, a broad-shouldered man with a mop of dark hair and skin the hue of rich Texas soil, whom Annie assumed to be the Coyotechaser chieftain, called to them from the porch.

  “Welcome, Chieftain Thunderfoot and family.” He descended the porch steps, looking pained, as if he’d returned home from war.

  Behind him were his three brothers, all similar in complexion, with tight lines framing their eyes. Even the gamma had a haggard look. She wondered if Amara had been mistaken when she’d told Annie her aunt and uncles were in their thirties and forties. They looked to be in their fifties. Their four sons, all with the same coloring as their fathers, stood behind them, chins held high and far too controlled for children. The oldest couldn’t have been more than thirteen.

  Tor surged ahead of Annie and met the large alpha halfway up the porch steps. “Chieftain Coyotechaser.”

  Annie noted how the Coyotechaser alpha stood one step below Tor, a sign of deference to the older chieftain. They shook hands, clapping each other’s backs.

  “Call me Cesar,” the Coyotechaser alpha said and nodded to the family gathered behind him. “My brothers Alejandro, Ben, and Andre, and this is our mate, Ioana.”

  Ioana, who had a little girl balanced on her hip, offered Annie a warm smile. Ioana looked very much like an older version of Amara—a pretty blonde with dazzling silver-blue eyes.

  Tor grunted, gesturing behind him. “My brother Van and our niece, Annie.”

  Annie was nervous when all eyes turned to her. She forced a smile, feeling heat creep into her cheeks when Tor shot her a dark look.

  Stay out of their heads, his warning reverberated in her mind.

  Annie wasn’t sure how, but Tor always knew when she was reading minds, and he’d made it clear on more than one occasion that he didn’t appreciate her magical gift of telepathy.

  Doing her best to block their thoughts, she waved, her feet rooted to the spot as she clung to her brother. “So nice to meet you all.”

  Ioana came down the steps, carrying her little girl with large hazel eyes and her fathers’ dark hair and complexion. “Annie,” she said in a thick Romanian accent, “my niece Amara has told me so much about you.”

  “Oh.” Annie bit her lip, then backed up a step as Ioana approached, fearing the shifter would smell her heat.

  “Is something wrong?” Ioana stopped, frowning. “You don’t look well.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her brain had been porridge ever since the incident in the truck.

  Tor scowled. “She scented her mates on the way here.”

  “Oh?” Ioana narrowed her eyes, plastering on a smile. “Where did you smell them?”

  “We’d just crossed onto Amaroki land,” Tor said. �
��Far east side.”

  Annie’s heart hit her stomach when the Coyotechasers’ faces fell like dominoes.

  Chieftain Cesar dragged a hand down his face. “Vidar’s side of the reservation.”

  Annie struggled to speak past the ball of nervous tension clogging her throat. “Is that bad?”

  Cesar shared dark looks with his brothers. “Vidar was our chieftain before the split. Actually, his brother Hodr was, but he was killed twelve years ago.”

  “Killed?” She clung tighter to Roy, her knees turning to jelly. “How?”

  “Shot by drug smugglers crossing the border,” Cesar answered.

  Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, no.”

  When Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she pressed into him. She’d always considered herself a strong, independent wolf, but she clung to her human half-brother like a lifeline. Why had the Ancients thought to pair her with Texas wolves in the middle of a civil war?

  Cesar scratched the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “Are you sure it was on the east side?”

  Tor’s face was a mask of stone. “Positive.”

  Cesar crossed his arms, giving Annie an assessing look that made her want to crawl out of her skin. “Then let us pray to the Ancients Annie didn’t scent Vidar’s sons.”

  Ioana turned to him. “It has to be them. None of Vidar’s other followers are of age.”

  “What’s wrong with Vidar?” Annie blurted, then felt stupid for asking. Roy had already told her the old chieftain had attacked him and told him on many occasions he wanted to kill all humans.

  “He’s gone mad.” Cesar shook his head. “He’s the reason we had to split.”

  “But what happened?”

  “Long story.” Cesar grimaced. “If I were you, Tor, I’d take her back to Alaska before they catch her scent.”

  “But I just got here,” she cried.

  “Good idea.” Tor jutted a finger at Roy’s truck. “Get back in, Annie.”

 

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