Of course, Silas wasn’t wrong about them getting plenty of meat, but these little boys looked like their little cocklets might blow without a single touch if they saw Willow’s tits bound tight with silicone bands, nipples dragged down by weighted clamps.
He cut into his steak and tried to let the food anchor him, but his wolf was pacing inside him. Silas made things worse with the filth he piped straight into her head, crude enough that Willow’s face went red as if he’d shouted it across the restaurant instead of telepathing it privately. Boone had to admit he liked watching her squirm, liked the way embarrassment sat on her skin.
And he considered the difference between Kenny and Silas. Their Alpha had come home bitching and ranting about salespeople, how their little fucktoy turned into some kind of society bitch talking to the damned salespeople in another fucking language, and more. A lot more.
Silas, however, was telling stories like he and Willow had gone to a carnival. He had them all laughing with his tales, though Willow had been mortified when he told them about shocking the saleslady with the, as he called them, hair-whatcha-ma-fuckit-nipple-clamps. Which was its own kind of funny.
Didn’t matter. There was steak and beer, Willow was theirs, and if Silas wanted to show her tits off to the waitstaff, Boone could put up with it another twenty minutes.
Then he’d take her home and fuck the memory of every gawking bastard right out of her gorgeous little ass.
Might need to flog her tits while he was at it.
Chapter 11
Willow dressed in a long denim skirt, a gorgeous Christmas sweater, leggings, and red fucking boots. Three-inch heels, but wide enough she’d be okay on uneven ground. The sweater shimmered when she moved, catching hints of gold from the yarn, and she felt like herself wearing festive, playful clothes.
She even had special permission to get dressed in her bathroom so she could do her makeup especially to work with the outfit.
She didn’t expect Kenny to come in and bend her over the vanity, but he was all business when he entered and ordered her to spread her legs and bend over, so she screwed the liquid eyeliner closed and bent over at the same time. He blew his load in her less than ten minutes later, hands gripping her hips, rutting into her hard and fast while she braced herself on the vanity.
He didn’t let her come even when she begged, which meant now she stood with her liquid eyeliner brush in hand, her thighs trembling and her clit throbbing while she tried to make a perfect, tiny little wing without smearing.
And her asshole was especially sore today. Boone had been in a mood when they arrived home from the steak place the night before, and it was his scene night. He’d flogged her tits raw, untilthe welts bloomed dark red and throbbed with heat before he flipped her over and drove into her ass hard enough to make her cry. But he hadn’t been even close to finished with her.
He’d shoved four fingers into her pussy without extra lube, and stretched her until her body shook and she begged for mercy he wasn’t interested in giving, until she stopped begging and just accepted his fingers, his unyielding knuckles — then he’d brutally taken her ass again, rougher than before, until she was wrecked.
And this morning, he’d shoved right back into her ass when he usually claims her pussy during the pre-breakfast fucking, all silent and intense, holding her in place with a heavy hand on the back of her neck while he pounded her.
Her body still pulsed from it, each step a raw ache, a reminder of who she belonged to.
By the time she walked out the front door, a couple dozen people had already arrived despite the fact it was fifteen minutes before the official start.
There was a flurry of activity around the bucket truck, but she soon realized Boone was in control and it was fine. He was halfway up with a cluster of kids around him. He lifted each child in turn, let them “drive” the controls for a minute so their parents could snap pictures, then lowered them back to the ground.
She couldn’t help but smile. Big, scary Boone, patient as hell with the kids.
Another group was inflating enormous ornaments — flat plastic shapes turning into beachball-sized baubles that gleamed like glass when the light hit them. She went over to help, and June handed her a tiny air compressor and gave her a crash course in how to use it.
Willow lost herself in the rhythm of it, the hum of the compressor, the way every ornament went from flat to prettya little different from the last. From her position, she could see Misty’s group across the yard, and they seemed focused on looking busy while they accomplished nothing. Kenny’s advice had proven sound — avoid when possible, stand firm when not. So far, the strategy was working, and it seemed Misty was the one doing the avoiding, so Willow didn’t need to.
Determined not to focus on the negative, she once again tuned into the discussion flowing around her. She sealed the ornament she’d just blown up, set it to the side, and reached for another flat one.
Before long, Boone was lifting Carl in the bucket, and she watched the process of spiraling the lights down from the top of the sixty-foot-tall fir tree before she went back to blowing up ornaments.
Boone’s voice slid into her mind.Heh. I’m jealous of the ornaments, getting blown by the gorgeous fucktoy.
She glanced around, spotted him helping stack logs for the bonfire, and rolled her eyes with a smile before going back to her work.
“Ah,” June said, laughter warm in her voice. “Young love. The grandest thing in the universe. Any weird stuff with the relationship bond?”
Willow shrugged. “Not that I can tell. Kenny says it’s stronger than he expected, but all I know is I can feel them more.”
Angie waddled over to sit nearby, her hand on her seven-months-pregnant belly. She’d barely reached for a compressor when June pointed her to a chair and told her to keep them company while her silly wolf of a husband went up in the bucket truck instead of keeping his feet on the ground like a sensible wolf.
Angie was human andverypregnant. They chatted a little about the nursery, the fact she’s having a boy, and that she isn’tsharing the name they’ve mostly probably decided on because it feels like tempting fate.
June tugged Willow over a little later and introduced her to a stunning young wolf with a waterfall of black curls, and the tall, dark-eyed Lugat vampire at her side. His hand rested casually at the small of his girlfriend’s back, his touch protective but not possessive, and Willow blinked at the sight of them together.
