Broken Bond (Claimed by Wolves 2)

“Are you sure?” he murmurs. “I don’t want to push you too far. I don’t want to hurt you. If you need more time—”

“I don’t.”

My words come before he’s even finished speaking. And I mean them. Maybe I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it will be completely worth it. Archer is just as important to me as my three other mates, and I want to feel him inside me. I want to kiss his golden skin and his beautiful lips.

“I want you,” I whisper, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him closer.

His cock is slick, and I realize he’s already spilled a little of his arousal, smearing it over his shaft as he stroked himself. He must be close to coming, and I want desperately to have him inside me when he does.

Archer’s jaw clenches, a look of intense emotion washing over his features. Then he hooks his hands under my knees and pulls me a little closer to him on the bed. The stretch as he eases himself inside me is different from the way it felt with Dare. I’m soaking wet, my core drenched in a combination of cum and my own arousal, and that helps ease the slight sting as Archer fills me up.

He watches me carefully for the first few thrusts, as if he’s looking for any sign that he’s hurting me. I hold his gaze, letting nothing but my love and happiness shine through my eyes.

Maybe it’s my silent reassurance, or maybe even a gentleman like Archer has limits to his control, but after a few more strokes, he begins to move faster and harder, driving into me as low grunts rumble from his chest.

He’s still holding my knees, controlling the movement of my lower body as he fucks me, and on either side of me, I watch Ridge and Trystan stroke themselves.

Their movements are just like Archer’s—rough and desperate. Every single one of these men has been brought to the edge, and my breath comes faster as I stare at them, wanting to see the exact moment they hurtle off the cliff.

Archer is the first. My beautiful golden god of a mate grasps my legs in a bruising grip, lifting my ass off the bed and spreading my legs wider as he slams into me. His teeth are bared in something like a snarl as he grinds his hips against mine, his cock emptying inside me with long pulses.

“Fuck, little wolf. You’re so perfect. So beautiful. So ours.” Ridge’s words end in a choked grunt, and arousal spikes inside me as I watch his abs contract hard, his hips thrusting forward as he comes in his hand. Some of his release spills on my stomach, and Trystan groans.

I catch my mate’s turquoise gaze as he comes too, jerking his cock roughly until ropes of cum cover my stomach.

Archer is still inside me, and the feel of my other two mates marking me sends me tumbling into another orgasm that takes me by surprise. I clench hard around his cock, drawing a ragged noise from his lips as my body writhes on the mattress.

By the time the waves of pleasure recede, I feel like a rag that’s been twisted and rung out. Every muscle in my body seems to have gone limp, and I can’t do anything more than grin up at the men around me.

“Our wolf.” Archer’s eyes gleam with happiness, and he leans over me to press a kiss to my lips.

I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and relishing the feeling of closeness. I hardly notice or care that I’m a sticky mess, marked with cum and glistening with sweat.

It doesn’t matter.

Because life is messy. Love is messy.

And these four men are mine. No matter what happens.

25

Sable

We lost the blankets ages ago, but the heat emanating from my four mates is plenty to keep me warm.

I’d had my doubts that all five of us could fit on Ridge’s bed. It isn’t that the bed is so small, but that the shifters are so big. They proved me wrong though, and sharing the bed with them means I can feel their bare skin on all sides.

It’s my new favorite feeling.

Archer’s arm tightens around my waist, and he squeezes me against his chest. I can’t see him since he’s behind me, but I can hear the satisfaction in his voice as he asks, “What are you thinking?”

“How warm I am,” I murmur, sliding my fingers up Dare’s chest. He’s dozing in front of me, his eyes closed and his breaths even. In sleep, he looks so innocent and light. I want to help him be that way when he’s awake too.

At my feet, I have one leg draped over Trystan’s waist as his fingers drift lazily up and down my calf. Ridge is on the other side of Archer, his back against the headboard and one arm wrapped around so that his hand rests in my hair.

“What are you thinking?” I ask Archer.

His lips move closer to my ear, and his breath tickles my skin as he murmurs, “I’m hungry.”