Chapter 12
Willow surfaced to the press of Boone’s weight over her, the low rumble in his chest a warning and a promise.
He didn’t bother with words, just slid into her raw pussy in one smooth push.
She caught his shoulder, the heat of him sinking into her bones, and let him take what he wanted.
The mattress dipped and shifted under his rhythm, his mouth claiming hers in quick, hungry kisses until his groan vibrated against her lips.
He gave her permission to orgasm, his mouth at her ear, “Come around my dick, little fucktoy.” The words tipped her over, a slow wave rolling out from her center, warmth spilling through her limbs.
A deep, melting release that left her loose under him, clinging to his shoulders as the last shivers faded.
He finished with a final, deep thrust, the warm spill of him inside her followed by the drag of his breath at her neck. A quick kiss to her temple, and then he was gone, padding off to start his morning.
Willow rolled toward the other side of the bed, tucking herself into Silas’s arms. He was warm and solid against her back, still deep in sleep, his breathing slow. She let herself drift again.
The next time she opened her eyes, Kenny stood over the bed. “All fours. Side of the bed. Want your mouth.”
Her body obeyed before her brain caught up, knees and palms sinking into the mattress as she leaned over the edge, opening to accept him, and then fighting for air when he fisted her hair, angled her head, and filled her in one relentless thrust.
Kenny was in a mood this morning. Rough. Looking for a physical release, using her to get himself off. No longer a brand-new toy to play with. No warm-up, no tease. Just the raw, unapologetic use of what belonged to him.
Her insides lit up like a live wire, clit throbbing, nipples tightening hard enough to ache. She damned near came — untouched, pulse hammering as he drove into her, his groan low and dark above her.
His grip on her hair kept her where he wanted her, the drag at her scalp making her eyes water. Each thrust bottomed out, his legs hitting the mattress, his cock filling her so deep her throat worked to take it while she fought to breathe.
Her fingers curled around the mattress edge, lungs burning, the only sounds between them the wet pull of his cock, and his breath getting rougher.
He grunted. Shoved deep and held, pulsing heat down her throat. She swallowed because she had no choice, his hand keeping her on him until he was done.
Then he let go and walked out bare-ass naked. A grunt, and he was gone, leaving her still on her knees, catching her breath.
She closed her eyes, deciding whether she could go back to sleep, and Silas groaned behind her. “Was gonna sleep in, damn it.” He cracked one eye at her. “Now I’m up, and I want food more than sex. French toast, bacon, maybe some of your fried potatoes.”
He swung his legs over the bed. “I hear activity downstairs. You might want to do your makeup before you come down.” He gave her an affectionate smile. “Not an order, just a suggestion.”
By the time she reached the kitchen, the air was thick with the scent of coffee, frying bacon, and baking bread.
People were frying meat on the grill outside, and at least a dozen people were sitting on the porch, holding coffee, talking.
Silas was frying bacon, and he had a setup to the side, ready to make French toast.
“Kenny had asked for a few days of privacy.” Boone said from a bar seat at the island.
“Not turning people away who needed to come, just asking that they stay in the woods and away from the house Thursday night and Friday.” He glanced at the porch, back to her.
“Everyone’s curious. Pack is always welcome on the porch and usually in the kitchen.
The coffeepots and grills are available for their use, and plenty are helping themselves this morning. ”
He poured her some coffee, added sugar, and pushed it toward her. “You’ll need to add your own milk. How are you feeling this morning?”
She shook her head. “Running through everything that hurts would sound too much like complaining. Plus, if I can hear them, they can hear me.”
Boone’s eyes narrowed, and she said “Sir. I apologize, thank you for not letting me slip.” Her face flamed red with the knowledge at least some of the wolves and other shifters on the porch heard, but it couldn’t be helped.
“There are no secrets in a wolfpack,” Silas said from the stove.
“Your scent will give it all away, little fucktoy.” A shrug.
“But the acoustics in here mean the sounds in the kitchen rarely make it to the porch, though we can hear what’s going on out there.
They’re going to know you’ve fucked us all and will have the idea you submit to us, but they don’t need to know the extent of our power exchange. ”
She sighed. “Well then, we’ll just say I feel like an overused fucktoy, every-fucking-where, Sirs.”
He chuckled. “Good. Means we’re doing our job.” He tilted his head. “We should know when it stops working for you, but if we miss the clues, you need to tell us.”
She considered the expectation beneath his words and gave him a hard truth she’d realized the day before. “All of it isn’t going to work for me. I’m here to be what the three of you need. That’s kind of the point, Sir.”
“Okay, but if the not working for you gets to be an issue, you have to check in with us. Do it outside of power exchange if you can’t word it while being submissive, but you have to tell us — and that is an order.” Without missing a beat, he asked, “How much French toast do you want?”
The back door opened, and Kenny leaned in to crook a finger at her. She looked at Silas, but Kenny said, “He’s capable of cooking without your help. Bring your coffee and meet some of the pack.”
She told Silas, “A lot, please Sir,” on her way out the door, and then found herself being stared at by dozens of wolves.
A few were probably human, mated to a wolf, but she was literally in the wolf den. Surrounded.
Boone followed her out, walked to an empty table, and sat.
“Everyone, this is Willow,” Kenny said. “You all know I went to the mountains with Silas and Boone, and a landslide made it hard to get home when we planned. She was stuck on the same mountain with us, and we all pooled our resources.”
“Fuck me,” a woman twenty feet away said, sitting at a table with a few other women and no men. “You’re Willow Faulkner, the idiot bitch who ran away from James Winslow’s mega-romantic proposal.”
Boone stood and turned, his face so calm, Willow had a feeling he was beyond pissed.
“And you’re being rude, as usual, Misty.
While I hope all the way to the bottom of my soul that Willow eventually decides to call this house her home, for now, she is a guest on pack lands, and you owe her recompense. This isn’t how guests are treated.”
Oh fuck. He’d gone straight to… damn. The other wolves on the porch seemed to be as surprised as her, but Misty stood and walked to her, went to her knees in front of her, and said, “I’m sorry.
Boone’s right. I’m a bitch, and that isn’t likely to change, but that was out of line, and I would offer to take you out to coffee any day this week.
My treat. I’ll spill some tea, let you know a little of how the pack operates. ”
“Stand, Misty,” Willow said, using a firm but not unfriendly tone. “I appreciate Boone sticking up for me, but I’m quite capable of handling rude bitches all by myself. Go sit your ass back down with your crew, who are a little mortified on your behalf.”
Willow looked out at the assembled wolves while Misty tucked her metaphorical tail between her legs and returned to her table.
“Yeah, I’m that Willow, and yeah, I went to the mountains to heal.
Not nursing a broken heart, just figuring out why I stayed with him so long when he clearly wasn’t the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. ”
She looked at Kenny, then Boone, then focused on the crowd again. “Silas told me there are no secrets in a pack, that my scent would tell everyone what we’ve been up to, so yeah, I’ve been fucking your top three, and fully enjoying myself.”
“Well,” a woman nearby said as she stood and walked to her. “I had my reservations about a damned bird, but you have moxie. Welcome to the pack social structure, for as long as this works for you and our top wolves.”
She wrapped Willow in a hug, and after a half-second of stiffness, Willow let the other woman embrace her, and returned the hug.
“I’m June, and I think our pack can use some hawk energy filtering in from on high, and good for you, knowing when to get away and reconnect with nature after a big change.”
She seemed about the same age as Willow’s mother, and it was a maternal hug. She wore Kenny’s scent, not as a mate, but as her Alpha, and it made her safe.
June glanced at the back corner. “Misty and her little entourage aren’t evil, exactly, but insecure little girls who got stunted somewhere between puberty and adulthood can be especially cruel. They’ve been in four packs in two years, and they’re supposed to be on their best behavior.”
Ah, that explained why Boone went straight to nuclear, and why Misty acted so quickly to give a bitchy apology the men would think was acceptable, but every woman on the porch knew was bullshit.
“Thanks for that. Truly.”
The door opened, and Silas came out with two heaping plates of French toast and bacon. “The little hawk and I are having French toast, and I’m not in short-order cook mode this morning, so ya’ll are going to have to fend for yourselves.”
He put their plates down on the table Boone was sprawled at, and returned with glasses of milk and a bottle of maple syrup. Later, she learned that table is the equivalent of the captain’s table on a ship — reserved for Kenny and whoever he invites to sit with him.