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Authors: Carys Weldon

Tags: #Erotica

SevenMarkPackAttackMobi (20 page)

BOOK: SevenMarkPackAttackMobi
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“Wrong. She does her own thing. Always has, always will.”

 
 

Amber pulled herself out of his grasp. “You’re blind. And deaf, too.”

 
 

He ignored that and asked, “So, you’re telling me you’re not going to sleep with me?”

 
 

She countered, “What purpose would it serve?” She flicked a hand toward the open bedroom door. “You’d what? Hold me to that king-sized bed until she woke up, or just what? Not shower, so she’d be sure and know? It’s your wedding night, Hood. Have a little respect.”

 
 

“It’s a farce!” He roared. “A cover for going on a honeymoon in St. Louis.” He clenched his fists. “She wore red, for Gaia’s sake! What the hell does that tell you?”

 
 

I’m still trying to figure that one out.

 
 

“I’ll fuck you when that thing is annulled, and not until then. Mark’s right. Do it by hand.”

 
 

Hood rounded on me, and for a minute, I thought he was gonna punch me. But he blew up and went back to the room he’d come out of. Left us standing there, unsure as to whether he was coming back out again or not.

 
 

I asked, “Think he’ll go buy a prostitute for the evening?”

 
 

“Hood?” She made a face. “He’d never buy a woman. He can get it for free anywhere he goes. The bitches line up.”

 
 

That didn’t surprise me.

 
 

She said, “He’s not going anywhere. He’s had too much to drink, too.”

 
 

“Some wedding night. I wonder what they talked about, up on that car roof all night.”

 
 

“They didn’t talk. They kissed a lot.”

 
 

“Oh. You were listening, then?”

 
 

“What did you think I was doing?”

 
 

“Same thing I was...maybe.” It sounded inane, stupid, to suggest that she’d been thinking about making love to me--reading my thoughts. I sure hadn’t been trying to block any.

 
 

“Why would you think that? I don’t fuck betas.”

 
 

I argued that point. “Down in my neck of the woods, I am the alpha...now.”

 
 

It was true. In the preceding forty-eight hours, I had stepped up to alpha at Wolf Enterprises. If Bark really was dead, I was it. Pack Leader. I rolled my shoulders backward and spread my feet, daring her to deny it.

 
 

She cut me quick. “It takes more than a death to make a man alpha. If you’re not up to speed, someone will take you out.”

 
 

“I can handle myself.”

 
 

“But can you handle everyone else around you?”

 
 

That made me think about pack politics. Why did alpha males take mates when they could play the field? They needed a loyal bitch, eyes behind their heads. A nose to the ground.

 
 

“With every breath, I’m learning.”

 
 

You’re right. You need a bitch at your side.

 
 

“Looks like it.” I reached for her. “Step up, baby.” I kissed her.

 
 

She let me. That’s all I can say. I could taste myself in her mouth. I felt my cock rise between us. She led me to a room.

 
 

With the door shut, she turned her back and unzipped her own dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her creamy, latte-colored skin intrigued me. She had on frilly things, lacy nothings. Garter and white tights. I stepped up behind her and put my lips to her shoulder, slipping a strap down.

 
 

And then the other.

 
 

I undid the hooks on the back of her bra and pulled it off of her, throwing it aside. Then I reached around her and cupped her breasts, rubbed the nubs of her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I pressed my cheek into her back and felt the rub of my manhood against her backside, through the remaining layers of clothing.

 
 

Her hands came up over mine, squeezing, and applying pressure of their own. I put a kiss on her back, and with my nose, nudged her hair aside so I could lick her neck. Before long, I had her bent over the bed, my pants down, and my cock between the opening in her crotchless lace panties. Slick and wet, as both of us were, the slip and sliding felt gloriously like a perfect fit.

 
 

When I scooped my knees to get in and thrust deep, she grunted with me. But she didn’t cry out or scream, like Giselle had. And she didn’t seem to mind the firm grip I got on her hips as I made my strokes.

 
 

I wanted to ask if she liked it, but I didn’t. I just fucked her from behind. It didn’t take long. She turns me on so much, I can’t hold back. I tried. Several times I made her hold still. Or I pulled out. But the lure of her ass cheeks, and other folds had me plunging it back in in no time. She let me pump it in to her. All the way to the hilt, with my balls slapping against her ass and my fingers digging into her hips.

 
 

I’ve done that position before. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget the feeling of completion I had that night. When I was done, I stood there for ages, not wanting to move. Or pull out. I caressed the skin on her back, above the garter. I told her--with a hitch in my throat--“I think you’re sexy.”

 
 

She wiggled--more like a roll of shoulders and an adjustment of hips that slid down her whole body--and I felt compelled to remove myself from her. She turned around. Liquid heat rolled down the inside of her thighs and the smell of our body fluids rose on the air between us. Standing there, with my shirt still on and her garter and tights still on her--we looked at each other.

 
 

Amber reached up and pulled me to her by getting a grip on my neck, kissing me. And she dragged me down on the bed, then rolled me, climbed on me before my cock could shrink, and got off. Saddled up, straddle style, and rocked and pushed with serious intent. Then fell forward, breast to chest, to get a different angle that worked better for her. I had my hands on her the whole time.

 
 

She didn’t talk. But I think we both enjoyed the sensation of her breasts rubbing against my chest hair, and the weight of her solidness squirming around on top of me. I helped her, by worked her hips up and down, and thrusting up into her. And damned if she didn’t get me solid hard again, and make me come to her moaning.

 
 

We fell asleep like that, with her laid out atop me. But we woke up, spoon fashion with my dick nudging at her ass and my arm possessively over her middle, my nose at her throat. I woke up in love, I think. At home. Right where I knew I needed to be.

 
 

But how to convince Amber of that?

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter Thirteen

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Her voice, low and amused, accused, “I know you’re awake.”

 
 

“Mm.” I wiggled closer. And she pushed her butt toward me, which suited me fine. I held her tighter, and placed a kiss at her throat.

 
 

The throb of my manhood, stiff and ready, could not be denied. I whispered in her ear, “I’m glad you noticed.”

 
 

“We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

 
 

I nuzzled her. “Let’s just stay here all day.”

 
 

“We’re going to Missouri. Remember?”

 
 

That drew a groan from me. “If I go there, they’ll connect Bark to the scene faster, if they haven’t already.”

 
 

“You know they have.”

 
 

I sighed. She wasn’t letting me off the hook. I asked, “What do you have to gain from helping us on this?”

 
 

“Nothing.”

 
 

Propping myself up, I asked, “Really?”

 
 

She turned her head a bit and said, “Yep. This is a favor to Hood.” She pushed at me and climbed off the bed. Oh, I tried to hold her, but she really is strong. So, I just admired her through sleepy lids.

 
 

Damn, she was hot.

 
 

“I gotta shower,” she said, heading for the bathroom.

 
 

Grinning, I offered, “Right behind you, honey.” But I took a minute or two to savor the memory of the night before.

 
 

When I entered the bathroom, I had to piss. I told her, “Don’t look.”

 
 

She laughed at me. “I’ve seen guys urinate before.”

 
 

My cock was hard. It wasn’t gonna be pretty to bend it down, or sit like a girl. Either way, it was tricky.

 
 

“Just climb in here.”

 
 

My head jerked her way. I knew she wasn’t suggesting a golden shower. And I was right. A second after I stepped into the stall, she slid around me and said, “Aim low.”

 
 

She’d adjusted the shower head down. In any case, it was easier to piss like that. When you have a hard-on, it’s tough. Relief of pressure didn’t really help, though. Soaping my cock up seemed more like stroking it back to attention, with her hovering behind my back.

 
 

She said, “Let me see what you’re doing.”

 
 

I chuckled but turned around and let her watch. She reached in and helped with the soap and rinse process. Squeezing my balls in a firm grip, she moved into me, crowding me, and brought her lips close to mine. I don’t know what I was hoping for, but it wasn’t what I got. She said, “You block every thought you have today. Capiche?”

 
 

Now, when someone’s literally got you by the balls and is applying pressure to the point of pain, you don’t argue. I nodded. She squeezed a little harder. “I mean it. I don’t want to rip your balls off.”

 
 

I reached down and gently got a grip on her hand, saying, “Honey, I got it. You can let go now.”

 
 

She kissed me then, a hard press of lips before she abandoned me. In a flash, she was out of the bath, and out of the room altogether. And I was left to wonder, once more, about the beautiful bitch that I’d set my sights on. That I’d asked to partner me--in less than twenty-four hours of knowing her. I knew I was nuts.

 
 

After all, she was in Hood’s little circle. How could I trust her?

 
 

Frank showed up around eleven with no explanations of where he’d been. I didn’t even care enough to ask. And I’d forgotten the idea of hooking up with any of my acquaintances until then. But when he arrived, it reminded me to, at the very least, make some calls.

 
 

The hotel delivered a brunch spread. And we picked at it, but I think we all felt a little hung over. Giselle seemed entirely too happy for a woman who had passed out on her wedding night. She came out, picked up a banana and proceeded to tease Hood--and the rest of us--with it. It was obscene, and terribly funny. Hood ended up stalking into their bedroom. And she hiked after him, stalking him as it were.

 
 

“Geez,” Amber said, putting her hands to her ears. Not that it helped.

 
 

I steadfastly worked hard on mind blocking. Amber had left her little pills on the bedside table. I hadn’t taken one. They scared the shit out of me.

 
 

Frank said, “You know,” as he picked up a banana of his own. “There’s a million ways to tease a man, but not many as effective as the banana trick.” He chuckled and bit the thing in half. “Ya gotta admire the way she works him.”

 
 

Amber dropped her hands from the side of her head and said, “She passed out on him last night.”

 
 

His eyes darted between Amber and me. He almost choked on his banana, and through it, after a coughing fit, he asked, “Is that right?”

 
 

We nodded.

 
 

“Then what happened?”

 
 

“He came out here,” Amber said.

 
 

“Really?” Frank poured himself some orange juice. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

 
 

“Not literally,” Amber informed him, lifting covers, looking for meat. She found link sausage and started chomping on one.

 
 

“Now, that surprises me.”

 
 

“We told him to fuck off,” I felt compelled to say, “Or fuck himself, as the case may be.”

 
 

“No!” Frank found that amusing. But he watched us closely. To Amber, he asked, “Now why would you go and do that?”

 
 

I moved over behind her, resting a hand on her back, reaching around for piece of sausage, too. “Do the math. You’re an accountant.” I told Amber, “Did you know that Frank here is also an amateur psychologist?”

 
 

“I’m not an amateur,” he groused. “I’ve got a degree.”

 
 

“He likes numbers better than people, though.” Unrepentant at annoying him, I said, “So, be careful, Amber. He’ll analyze you and I can promise you, you won’t like what he finds.”

 
 

Her gaze bored into me. “You don’t like what he says about you?”

 
 

I chuckled. “He keeps telling me to get a grip.” I waggled another sausage between my teeth, which I wanted Frank to note. But I pressured her with a squeeze to her butt. “You tell me, think I need to hold on a little tighter to my feelings, or let it all rip?”

 
 

“When a man says he wants to let something rip, I always wonder what he’s talking about.”

 
 

Sucking the sausage into my mouth whole, I chomped and swallowed. Almost choked myself when she said, “You know, farting or whatever.”

 
 

“I was thinking about emotional control myself. Crinosing, and letting that free, that sort of thing.”

 
 

“Interesting,” Frank said, in his best Freudian impersonation. “Very interesting.”

 
 

I tossed a sausage at him. He caught it and ate it whole, too. That made me raise my brow. I told him, “Funny, Frank. When you do it, I think homo. When I do it, I think carnivore.”

 
 

Amber laughed. “I’m not gonna tell you what I think.”

 
 

“Why don’t you eat one whole and see if you can read our minds,” I said it to her, teasing. But she did it. Put one between her lips and sucked it in, real slow like. Swallowed it without anything more than a little convulsion in her throat. And I had to block all the nasty things I wanted to think.

 
 

“Oooh. Impressive.” She put another one between her lips, moved past me and copped a cock feel as she went. “Guess all you needed was a little incentive.”

 
 

“For what?” Frank asked, watching the two of us like we were plotting against him.

 
 

We never answered that for him. Hood and Giselle returned. In a clipped and business like tone, the big man commanded, “Time to go.”

 
 

As abrupt as it was, I didn’t mind taking his orders. I wanted to get out of there. I asked, “Is there any place to run in Missouri? I’ve got a big urge to put on some miles.”

 
 

Stretch. Work off some pressure that seemed to be building.

 
 

I didn’t get an answer. A few looks. I don’t care what they fronted, I know I wasn’t the only one needing a run.

 
 

As it turned out, we made the trip in a relatively short period of time. As usual, transportation went smoothly. And before long, we were ensconced in another hotel. That one in St. Louis. A contingent of press met us on the tarmac, and another at the hotel. I wondered who had leaked our travel plans. Frank and Hood didn’t seem worried about it.

 
 

They handled it, pushing me to take the women ahead. After the deal at the airport, when I was in the car waiting with Giselle and Amber, I asked, “Do either of you know what we’re really doing here? I mean, I know what I want to do. I want to go down to the scene and sniff around.”

 
 

Amber said, “Too many friggin’ bastets.”

 
 

“How do you know?”

 
 

“The other scenter is here. He’s been waiting.”

 
 

“And he told you that?”

 
 

She shrugged. I turned to Giselle. “Please explain to me why you two went through with the whole wedding thing. Why the need for a cover like that?”

 
 

Giselle sighed, watching out the window. “Hood wanted to come down personally to see what was up. I like jazz. Used to sing, actually. So bringing me here is a perfect set-up, ready made. Except I’ll be locked in the room, and people will think he’s with me when really, the two of you will be sneaking around in the dark.”

 
 

“And Frank?”

 
 

“Guard, of course.”

 
 

“Frank?” Hood would pick Frank? The chicken puppy?

 
 

Giselle frowned over at me. “I can’t think of anyone else I want outside my door, except you and Hood--and Bark. How about you?” Her gaze went to Amber.

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