Wild Ones: Prowl (5 page)

Chapter Five

Lainey supposed men couldn’t properly howl, but wolves could, and she was most glad these two were neither ordinary men nor ordinary wolves. And she couldn’t have picked a better word than “howl” for the joyous noise those two raised to the stars. You’d have thought she’d plucked one of those stars down for each and placed it in the palm of their hand.

Well, who knew? Maybe they saw it that way, and wasn’t that something remarkable?

Asher took Lainey by the waist and lifted her high, spinning about in circles. Lainey gasped like a girl, and heard laughter spilling from her like water from a cup brimful with good golden wine. She raised her own voice in jubilant noise while Asher turned her around and around, until the stars blurred dizzily together and the chorus of cicadas seemed as fine as a trained orchestra.

He stopped, laughing at her crossed eyes; she focused quick enough to look down at him and marvel at the naked admiration and darker want that made him boyish and all man at the same time. Lainey stroked what she could of him, amazed at how he needed to use so little of his strength to raise her up. She might as well have been made of feathers.

“You are wolves, but I am not a bird,” she pretended to chide him.

From the blazing brightness of his grin, Asher didn’t take that scolding one bit to heart. He lifted her higher still and dropped her -- or she thought he’d dropped her, her heart in her throat -- until Russ caught her and spun her again, down to land lightly on her bare feet in the dew-wet grass. Russ enfolded her in his arms and embraced her tightly.

His skin tasted salty on her tongue when she nipped Russ’s shoulder. “There’s a time for play, and there’s a time for mating. You two make up your minds.” She finished with a light slap on his rump, because she wanted to.

She could sense Asher’s keen interest at that, and pressed as close as she was Lainey could feel Russ’s definite appreciation. She slapped again, harder, and felt Russ shiver.

Maybe too hard, that’d been. There was the tiniest bit of doubt in Russ when he pulled far back enough to eye her quizzically. “Angry?”

Asher snorted, an uncannily human sound that made Lainey look about at him and wrinkle her nose at the handsome man-wolf. She turned back to Russ and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his, giving him a taste of what was to come.

Russ hummed, pacified, and sought her mouth for a deeper, hungrier kiss. “Not mad,” he said, utterly self-satisfied, when he released her.

“Boys, when I’m mad, you’ll know.” Lainey pressed her nakedness to Russ’s, letting him feel how wet she was and how tightly furled her nipples. “Now,” she breathed in Russ’s ear, knowing Asher could hear her too, “Does that feel like I’m mad?”

Russ and Asher looked at each other over her and laughed in a way that was utterly masculine, and would have infuriated Lainey if it hadn’t been -- them, here, now. If she didn’t avidly want to take them up on the sexual certainty of that dominant male rumbling. Now.

She tweaked Russ’s ear, then, to indulge her preference, dragged her nails ever so lightly down his chest to pinch his nipple. He drew in a startled breath. Hmm, hadn’t known he liked that, had Russ? Lainey gave him her most wicked smile.

He’d love this, then. She trailed her fingertips, softer in her touch now, down his finely muscled chest, through the wiry hair around his groin, and took the length and width of his shaft in her hand. She had small hands, and almost couldn’t touch thumb to forefinger. A little too much for most women to handle; lucky her, she was no ordinary woman and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

There, she thought, somehow stunned and somehow relieved over fears she hadn’t even known she’d entertained.
Safe with them. I will always be safe with them
.

That was even finer than their touch.

But with Asher crowding in behind Lainey and Russ panting hot breath against her neck while she stroked his ever so responsive cock, she’d have to admit the touch of these wolves was worth its own weight in gold.

Considerable weight, too. Asher’s cock was of equal size, if not a little more than Russ’s. He was so eager to sink himself inside Lainey that his cock left drops of warm wetness behind where it rubbed against the small of her back. Still in Russ’s arms, Lainey twisted to kiss Asher as she had Russ.

He indulged her only a moment, then drew away to feign a puppyish snap at her nose. She swatted him for that, but with Russ’s blessing and guidance turned to kiss him properly, long and sweet -- and then not so sweet, as dominant Asher lifted and guided her legs around his waist until she clung to him, the wolf bearing all her weight once more.

She wondered if he’d throw her into the air again, but Asher had other plans. Still with barely an effort showing in the flex of muscles in arms and chest, he lowered Lainey to the ground.

The cold of the dew made Lainey gasp, but not for long. Russ lay down as she did, and rolled her into his arms to devour her with his kiss. Asher followed, putting her in the middle once more with him at her back.

Whatever tiny bit of Lainey’s mind could still think wondered from the way they kept positioning her whether she’d been mistaken thinking Asher the more dominant. Not that it mattered. Lainey sat up and rolled to her knees, gazing down at the wealth of male flesh spread out for her pleasure. She stroked their strong, firm thighs and teased at their balls, enjoying their reactions.

There was one dominant among them that mattered. Her. And she had the feeling they would not want her any other way.

Still on her knees, Lainey cupped her breasts, offering them to her wolves. Symbolic, yes, and literal. She wanted those pretty man-wolf mouths on her breasts, sucking her nipples.

Asher scrambled up first, followed fast after by Russ. Lainey clasped both by the backs of their heads. She almost couldn’t breathe, swallowed up by the wild and musky scent of them, and the dense silkiness of their hair. She thrust her fingers through each man’s hair and held them closer still, drowning in texture and smell and the drawing sensation of lips and tongue pulling at her nipples.

Natural talent, Lainey thought. She did appreciate that in a man. In her men.

Asher stopped just shy of making her sore -- he had an intuitive gift for knowing just how much was enough and not too much. Russ bit softly at the fullness of her breast and rolled down to stretch out on his back.

Well. Turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it? Lainey pushed Asher with the palm of her hand. She’d no chance of budging a man as strong as him if he hadn’t wanted to go, but he did, eyes sparkling with pleasure in this particular game. He lay on his back beside Russ -- coincidentally enough, or not, as Lainey thought wryly, leaving just enough room between them for Lainey to fit into.

She liked that. Space reserved just for her.

Lainey caressed her breasts, savoring the light burn and the fullness they’d drawn to her, and let her gaze drift to the pair of stiff cocks so rigid they rested flush to Asher and Russ’s bellies. A wolf and a gentleman. Who’d have thought?

“My turn,” Lainey told them, not polished at all, and glad of it. This was the time to be primal.

Asher looked at her quizzically and Russ lifted his head.

She touched the tip of her finger to his ankle. “Don’t know what I mean? I bet you do.” She dropped to her knees and slid just far enough between the pair to make her intentions clear. When she lowered her head and her loose hair swept their bare stomachs, they got the idea.

Russ howled. Asher groaned. Lainey liked both noises enough to want to see how loud she could get them shouting again. Asher first, for she had ached to wrap her lips about that length since she’d felt it pressed bare and throbbing against her back. She wrapped her fist around the base and slid her lips around the fat crown, letting his glide into her mouth.

He tasted as good as she’d hoped; he tasted of wildness and freedom. And his reaction? Better still. Her Asher howled and arched his back into a half-bow; he lay flat and panted. Now he shuddered, wanting nothing more, she was sure, than to take her by the hair and thrust deep into the wet slickness of her mouth.

Lainey drew off with one lick to the head. She knew when a man came close, and she knew, too, just how far to go. And she’d be damned if she didn’t want to taste both of them. With two, a woman could be as greedy as she pleased, and please all who played the game.

Asher laughed, rough and more masculine still despite the near painful-looking swelling of his cock, and as if he were of one mind with Lainey together they pounced on Russ and held him down. He tasted different than Asher, a flavor that reminded Lainey of home and safe.

Reacted just about the same, though, Asher had been wise as well as wily. Took the two of them to hold Russ down. He was the stronger, Lainey saw, and Asher the more cunning. Together they made a good match.

Stronger meant more control once he’d gotten hold of himself, and when he’d settled with his fingers drawing deep furrows in the dirt beneath the soft grass, Russ had the sort of stamina that could have pitted itself against Lainey’s for hours.

That was, until she slipped a finger between her lips to wet it with his pre-come and her saliva, and teased it beneath his balls to touch, ever so lightly, the tight puckered opening she found behind them.

Lainey sat back on her heels and laughed, laughed like she hadn’t since she was a girl, watching Asher wrestle Russ down. Her mouth tasted of manhood and licentiousness that was somehow pure, and she couldn’t have been happier.

No, that was a lie. Game wasn’t finished, yet. Lainey let her laughter die down to a smile that felt, even to her, like that of a seductress -- without effort, coming naturally -- and spread her knees apart to give them as good and long a look as they liked at her wet cunt.

To tease them, and to make sure they knew what she wanted, Lainey dipped her fingers between the folds and brought them out wet. She licked them clean, and trailed them down the calves of her men.

“Which?” she asked, for she couldn’t have made up her mind.

They understood. A glance passed between them, that silent sort of communication that only lovers who had known one another for a long time could manage, a shared nod, and grins of such savage wickedness that they brought delicious chills to Lainey’s too-warm skin.

After a look like that, Lainey was happy to let them manhandle her. Arrange her as they wanted, for they did it with reverence as well as lust fast approaching the point of no return. Russ lifted her onto Asher as Asher knelt, arranging her straddling his lap with his cockhead teasing her opening. Russ then crowded in behind, his cock nudging her ass. He stroked that cock between the cleft of her cheeks, but not inside, and laid a kiss on the side of her neck, so tender it near made her weep.

Lainey flexed her thigh muscles to rise up, then to sink down, taking all of Asher’s length inside her. Asher’s hands flexed tight on her hips. A long, low groan escaped him, and he stared at her with his hunger showing.

“There,” Lainey said, squeezing him deep inside. She canted her hips and glanced over her shoulders. “This is my favorite game.”

Russ shook with laughter. He covered Asher’s hands with his own and, as if it had been some sort of signal between them, the two began to move.

Lainey -- howled. There was no other word for it. Raised her voice in an ululating wail that seemed to make the sky echo; for savage joy she did it again. How could she not, speared deep with the finest cock she’d ever known, with the heft of another gliding hard and fast without hurting her, with wolves that were men savaging her with kisses where they could reach and eager, eager hands sweeping everywhere they could not reach with their mouths.

Trapped between them by her own choice, rocked from pleasure to pleasure that spiraled ever higher, Lainey rode the pair of wolves to her ultimate freedom, and let herself scream as loud as her throat could bear -- no, louder -- when the pleasure reached its highest point and she escaped her skin in her way, flying apart in myriad points of ecstasy.

She heard Asher choke on his breath when he dug his nails into her hips; she felt him come deep inside, drenching her with his seed. She heard the groan Russ muffled against her neck and the violence of his shuddering when his orgasm burst out of him and slicked her with thick stripes of come.

They fucked her still, softening slowly, gliding through their own come, and guided her down at the same time. Lainey ached inside and out, felt bruised and tender as if freshly sunburned, and as white and pure as the moons above them.

Then, as cherished as a queen when her men laid her down between them and licked her clean of themselves, of herself, and finished with kisses so light as to feel like the brush of fur.

As one, Lainey’s wolves rose to their feet, offering her a hand apiece to draw her up. They walked her to her porch, and up the shallow steps, and to her very door. There, Russ kissed her once more, lingering and sweet, and Asher kissed her still one more time, dominant and pleased. He traced her cheekbone with utter tenderness and a tiny hint of his playfulness beneath a look of pure satisfaction.

Asher drew her to him in an embrace without a kiss; Russ drew himself to her to hold her. “Mate,” Asher said, echoed by Russ. “Our mate. Your mate. It is good.”