The heat clung to her skin, rolled across her hip bones, and pooled in her navel. Another hiss and sudden heat on her tits. Her nipples ached, hard and sensitive, the sting of humiliation bright beneath the warmth.
She swallowed hard, willing herself not to squirm. Her heart pounded against her ribs, heat rising to her cheeks even before they pissed on her face. Because she knew that was coming.
Boone moved closer. The heat hit her breasts in a scalding wave, splashed on her face, into her hair, and ran in rivulets down her ribs.
She turned her head to the side, not to avoid it, but to breathe through the rising shame and arousal. Her nipples ached, half from the heat, half from exposure and anticipation. They kept moving up, warm spray across her collarbones.
Her legs trembled, but she didn’t dare try to close them. This was about her surrendering to them.Wantingto be marked.
So she lay there under the deluge of warm piss, the heat, the sound, the humiliation.
They were marking her. Not just a fucktoy or a submissive. Their property.
* * * *
Kenny’s wolf surged with wild insistence beneath his skin. Tonight wasn’t about kink, but about claiming territory, about pissing out the biological proof this bitch belonged to him, the Alpha of the Chattanooga Pack, along with his top two wolves. Theirs, but also his.Indisputableproof.
Sharing a woman between three wolves isn’t typical. Not impossible, but rare. Risky. Pack wolves are loyal and possessive, and with the full moon approaching, Kenny’s beast was snarling about what belongs to him — not wanting to rip her from Silas and Boone, but wanting everyone else to understand that while she’s theirs, she is alsohis.
Silas’s wolf was different. Calmer in some ways, darker in others. Boone’s was steady, massive. Their beasts needed this, too. Needed the raw, feral assurance that she was theirs.
From above, he watched her chest rise and fall, watched the flutter of her lashes.
He moved up from her tits as he told her, “Mouth open, fucktoy.”
Her lips parted. No flinch. No hesitation.
“Good girl.”
He stood with his feet a few inches below her soaked pussy and let it flow hot and heavy across her cheeks, her forehead, and then into her mouth.
She didn’t spit. Didn’t gag.
She drank.
Silas was next, then Boone. All of them hit her face, her hair, her mouth.
By the time they finished, she was trembling.
And every one of them could see it: the way she floated, eyes glazed, cunt swollen.
And this would happen every full moon. Every cycle.
Silas unscrewed the rings holding her cuffs together, rolled her over on her stomach, and connected her cuffs behind her back. He lifted her to standing, but with her torso still horizontal. He grabbed one leg, raised it, and crammed his dick in her pussy. Kenny reached for the lube he’d put on the shelf earlier, got his dick slick, and crammed himself into her ass.
Boone was already in her mouth, pumping away.
They’d fuck her and fill her with their cum to further mark her and then eventually, once the piss was good and dry on her skin, they’d wash her and feed her.
Take care of what belonged to them.
* * * *
When it was over, Willow was grateful Kenny had decided to pause the scene night schedule on these nights.
After Boone and Kenny had finally washed her, they’d taken her downstairs, where Silas told them her meal would be ready in three minutes.
They fed her sea bass with risotto and roasted vegetables, with a cherry pie for dessert, and she felt treasured.Loved.
