Her trembling hands cupped his jaw. “I’m so glad you figured it out, Sir, because I love you too, and I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.”
The first thrust after that wasn’t brutal. Just deep. Honest. A claiming without cruelty.
Their rhythm built slowly, with measured strokes, hips grinding as his cock filled her ass again and again. No softness, but no edge of punishment. Just a deliberate, primal joining.
He lowered his head and ran his nose along her collarbone, breathing in the sweat and pain soaked into her skin. The submission. His wolf growled and he let it out. Let her hear it. He nipped at a welt on her left breast hard enough to make her jolt. Then another. And another. Not biting to mark, but to feel her flinch. To make her gasp. To reconnect through the kind of pain she begged for, and he needed to inflict.
“You like it when I make it hurt?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You want to come?”
“Yes, Sir.Please.”
“No.”
She whimpered.
He slowed. Dragged it out. Each stroke angled to hit the places that would drive her mad. He rubbed and pressed the front of her body over her clit, bringing her close to the edge without tipping her over. Her hands fisted in the sheets. Her thighs trembled against his sides.
“Please, Sir,” she begged. “Please.”
“No, but feel free to keep begging.”
The sound of her near-broken voice begging and pleading made his balls ache to release, but he held on. Kept telling her no until she broke pasthisability to hold back.
His lips landed on hers, another possessive claiming. His balls churned, the wait sharpening everything, but he only deepened the kiss while she squirmed under him. Finally, he pulled back to tell her, “Permission, little fuckhole.”
One hard thrust, deep and fast, and her orgasm detonated under him. She screamed again, sobbed through it, body clenching around the fullness in her ass, wrung out and flying.
His own release hit seconds later. A savage thrust, then another, and then he poured into her with a low, growled, “Mine.”
He didn’t pull out.
“Yours,” she agreed. “I love you, Silas. Sir.”
He kissed her forehead. Her cheeks. Her lips. Ran his hands over her body like he had to reassure himself she was still here.
Then he telepathed Kenny,The two of you should come help with aftercare. You have time to shower if you hurry, but this needs all four of us in the bed.
And he wasn’t up for cooking, so he added,Order something for delivery. Olive Garden, that alfredo steak she liked so much last time, and a triple order of their broccoli-cheese soup. She needs something soothing for her throat. Dessert too. Their chocolate lasagna. We can add some ice cream.
Chapter 5
Days later, Willow was on the porch kissing Silas goodbye when she heard June’s engine coming up the driveway, and he pulled back from the kiss with a grin. “Sounds like you’re about to get some gossip.”
Silas went off to the right to their personal parking spaces, and Willow walked to the left, toward the pack’s parking area to greet June, who climbed down from her late-model Bronco with two enormous to-go coffees and a paper sack. “I figured you’d be up by now. Got time for some coffee and gossip?”
Willow smiled. “Always.”
“Good. Sit with me.” June handed her one of the coffees and turned toward the back of the house. “It’s a nice morning. You good with the back porch? Or is it too chilly? I’m afraid I don’t actually know a lot about hawks.”
Willow nodded. “Hawks run even warmer than wolves. The porch is fine, I’ll just grab a jacket from inside.” And some shoes, or maybe boots. It was a gorgeous morning, but she’d stepped out barefoot in her dress, expecting only a goodbye kiss and probably a few nipple squeezes.
They walked together, and Willow took a testing sip of the coffee. It was hot, strong, just sweet enough, with plenty of milk. She wondered which of her men had told June how she likes her coffee.
She made a quick trip inside to put leggings and boots on along with a lightweight jacket, and then the two women settled around the Alpha table. The one with the most comfortable chairs.
