Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

 

Lark welcoming his Pack was the most fulfilling sight Rafer had ever seen. He’d been so afraid last night that he had lost her, first to the skin hunters and then to his own dark hungers. He’d ached for her, ached to hold her in his arms. Ached for words he’d waited a lifetime to say.
I love you
.

He loved her. He wanted to spend every night wrapped around her, his skin pressed to hers. He’d had three nights with her, and already he couldn’t imagine sleeping any other way. He didn’t want to return to the bayou without her. He couldn’t.

She was part of him now, part of his very heart.

“Rafer?” Her husky voice held the barest hint of a tremor. A whisper of feminine nerves—and need. She was offering him a possibility he’d dreamed of. He’d had her, taken her, but he’d known his Pack was on the outside. Yearning for females of their own even as he lost himself in his. He’d wanted to share what he’d found.

And now she was going to let him.

Her eyes met his. Her gaze was steady, unflinching. There was still that hint of nerves, but the scent of feminine arousal was stronger. She wanted this. She wanted
them
. Over his shoulder, his Pack watched him.

He took her hand and said what he’d wanted to say again since their fight with the skin hunters.

“I love you.” He’d meant every word he’d given her, standing there on her porch. Defending her, fighting for her and her farm, had been his right as her mate—and an honor. She’d let him give her what he could and she’d had his back. Both before, when she’d faced down the vamps, and now. A hot sensation unfurled in his chest. That was new. Always, he’d fought for others. She was there for him. She was
here
, by his side.

“Good.” A smile lit up her face. “Because I think I could love you, too.”

He was terrified of losing her—and in awe of the precious gift he’d been given. Her love was something he’d never dared dream of.

He pulled her into his side, his fingers threading through hers. So small. Fragile. But she was strong, a warm presence, and he’d want this woman, blue moon or no blue moon. When they got to the edge of the bed, he gently lifted her in his arms, savoring the feel of her.

She was
his
.

“You sure?” He had to ask, had to hear. She wouldn’t hide from who he was or who the Pack was, and that was far, far more than he had any right to expect.

Her eyes searched his face again, but he didn’t see doubts. Just the Mona Lisa smile that had him wondering what she was thinking. Something good.

“I invited you in, remember?” Her fingers curled against the back of his neck. The soft touch meant the world to him. The intimate brush of her skin against his promised she liked the feel of him and shared the same unbearable need to be closer that he did.

“Naughty,” he growled, hearing Dag’s answering rumble from behind him. “You’re a naughty girl.”

“Only sometimes.” She tugged at his head. “Only right now with you.”

“And them?”

He felt her heartbeat speed up against his arm. “And them. You tempt me.” Her tongue traced an erotic path along his ear, her hand sliding down his shoulder, past his ribs, headed south. “All of you do, but you’ve known that since the night we met.”

Her hand cupped his ass and squeezed.  Right there in front of his brothers she was touching him, her fingers exploring. At the sharp nip of her teeth, he jerked.

And damned if she didn’t growl at him. “So put me down and do something about it, okay?”

He’d never been so aroused. So hungry. She was teasing his wolf. Pushing him in a sensual challenge he had every intention of winning. He knew his fierce grin mirrored hers. She was his mate. His match.

“No worries,
chère
.” He sensed the Pack moving closer. Someone shut the door to her bedroom, but he didn’t look back, just put her in the middle of the bed and followed her down. “You want to play Little Red Ridin’ Hood, I’m plenty happy to eat you up.”

 

~*~

 

She swallowed hard as Rafer’s broad shoulders blocked her view of the room. She wanted this, wanted him, and she’d take what she could get. Right now she couldn’t think of anything—anyone—but Rafer. His devotion to his Pack. His fierce protectiveness. He’d offered her all that, and she hadn’t understood what he was offering. Now she did. This wasn’t just sex. This touching and kissing was something else. Something more. Inviting the Pack into her home—and her heart—felt right. Her wolves needed something she could share with them. If she wanted to.

God, how she wanted to.

She turned her head and watched them come to her. Luc sprawled in her armchair, watching, but the other four men padded towards the bed on sure feet. Their erections pushed out the front of their jeans in an unmistakably erotic demand. Heat tore through her. Mercenaries. Fighters.
Hers
. She’d told Rafer she was willing to do this, but it was more than willing. She wanted to do this. Wanted to kiss and touch them all, even if the man she wanted most was Rafer. These men watched her like she was a precious gift. With heat in their gazes, but something else as well. Affection. Yearning.

Need.

What they wanted from her was far more than sex.

She pulled Rafer towards her and he came, his lips covering hers as the weight of his body eased her down into the mattress. Fire streaked through her pussy, and she arched up, trying to get closer. His lips parted hers so his tongue could sweep inside.
Yes
.

Rafer rolled to his side, and other hands reached for her knees, pushing her thighs slowly apart. There was all the time in the world to protest, but those calloused male hands were deliberately gentle. Seeking to please. Stroking beneath the edge of her towel. She stilled, then relaxed.  She didn’t have to stop kissing Rafer—these new hands were just something more.

She felt rather than saw the twins, Dre and Landry, move onto the bed, wrapping themselves around her. Parting her knees farther. Rafer pulled back. Jackson’s sure hands lifted her, tucking her carefully on his lap. Her arousal grew, the anticipation building. She was going to sleep with these men who shapeshifted into wolves. She was going to have them, enjoy their sensual teasing and their welcome strength. No matter what happened to her farm, they’d be there for her. Welcoming her. Waiting for her.

Heat blossomed inside her. She
belonged
with them and they with her. And yet she still couldn’t stop the blush heating her face.

Dag’s sexy chuckle had her moaning. “She blushes, boys.”

Dre gave a growl of satisfaction, his large hands wrapping around her shoulders, rubbing. Soothing. She ducked her head, laying her cheek against that hand so his strong fingers could stroke the skin there.

“Whatever you want,” Rafer said, his thumb caressing a path over her lips. “You don’ do anything you don’ want to do.”

“True that,” Dag promised hoarsely. “None of us,
sha
, are goin’ to do anything you don’ want.”

The intimacy of the Pack was both staggering—and shattering. These big, tough fighters could more than hold their own in any fight, but they’d reined in that brute strength. Were focused on nothing and no one but
her
.

“Lose the towel for us, baby.” Heat lit Rafer’s gaze. “Let us see you.”

“You strip, too.” If she was getting naked here, they did, too. “All of you,” she ordered.

She leaned back in Jackson’s embrace, curled up against his denim-covered legs and the mound of pillows heaped by the massive headboard. Boots hit the floor and T-shirts were stripped off with brutal efficiency. Fingers unbuttoned and shucked off jeans.

Her breath caught.

“You like what you see?” Dag flicked open the final buttons of his jeans.

They were all different, but large. Hard. Those thick erections were a wicked, wicked promise she had every intention of cashing in on.

“Yes.” She blinked, surprised. She did. She was wet and growing wetter. Decided, she tugged the towel away.

Dag’s face mirrored her own surprise. “Well, hell, Rafer. Maybe she is goin’ to do this. You think you can take this many wolves, baby?”

Part of her recognized instinctively that this man was desperate for touch, feared she’d tease and then pull away. He’d push and he’d challenge, but he wouldn’t force the issue. Wouldn’t force her to take him. That was up to her.

“Come over here.” She hooked her finger in the open waistband of his jeans, drawing him nearer. He came, and she shoved the denim down, her fingers brushing his straining erection.

“Be sure,” he growled, pushing off his jeans.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said sweetly. “I’m certain I can handle
this
.”

Rafer gathered her into his arms. “We go nice and slow,
chère
. You don’ like something, you tell us, okay?” His lips found the vulnerable skin of her throat.

“If I don’t like something, you’re not doing it right.” Her head fell to the side, baring her neck in a gesture of submission. And challenge.

“You got that right,
chère
.” He tasted her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his hard body into hers. Dag slid closer, his mouth nuzzling her ear.

Dre’s arms anchored her shoulders, sweeping beneath her knees to lift her effortlessly. The mattress gave softly beneath her back as Dag and Rafer followed. The bed was familiar, even if the men filling it were not. She’d fantasized plenty here—and now those fantasies were coming to life. Rafer’s big, hard body pushed her down, then eased off. His mouth swallowed her sound of protest, his tongue pressing her lips apart and sweeping inside as his big hands cupped her face, holding her still for a possessive kiss.

She wrapped a leg around Rafer’s hip, rocking against him. The hard ridge pressing into her pussy and the teasing friction of his thigh had her breath coming in pants.

The mattress dipped as more of their Pack joined them. Reaching out a hand, she found and cradled Rafer’s balls. The heavy sack was full and sensitive where she held him.

“Christ,” he groaned.

Strong male hands stroked her thighs, calloused fingers sure and knowing. Working together.

Rafer’s mouth traveled down, tasting first the sensitive skin of her collarbone and then the slope of her breasts. Finding her nipples and tonguing them. She needed him. She needed more.

Dag eased closer, pinning her between two hard bodies. His familiar hands touched her, stroking her as if that soft brush of skin on skin was enough. The Pack’s males pressed against her, legs tangled with hers, hands roaming her waist and sides and breasts. Each caress sent her higher, the hot pleasure spiraling through her.

Dre found her thigh and moved up, cupping her ass. Tracing the dark crease lightly.

She knew she should be nervous. She hadn’t done this. Hadn’t dreamed of doing this. But sharing her bed and heart with these other males felt
right
. All that mattered right now was pleasing and being pleased. Sharing the pleasure and the fiery heat. They took and she gave. She took and they gave.

The Pack touched her, surrounded her. Big and strong and so very careful. This was supposed to be for
them
, but they were making it all about her.

She felt needed. Worshipped.

“We started this,” Rafer growled against her mouth. “You tell us now,
chère
, if we can finish this.”

She wasn’t passive. This wasn’t blind submission on her part. She’d chosen to run, and she’d chosen to open the door to this. “Yes.”

Turning, she wrapped her hands around the base of Dag’s shift and palmed him firmly. His eyes glowed as he pressed himself into her fingers, fierce and hungry, both the man and beast watching her. Slowly she lowered her head, sucking the tip of him into her mouth.

“Yeah,” he groaned, guiding her closer still. “Take me,
sha
. Just like that. Show me how much you want us.”

She did want him. She wanted all of them, and that was an unexpected pleasure. Finding the sensitive spot beneath the head at the top of his shaft, she licked. Her tongue rubbed, discovering the lush curve of that big head, and she heard his husky groan.

Long and thick, he filled her and then some. His hands threaded through her hair and pulled her closer. Careful. Tender. When she finally drew back, he let her go, his shaft damp and glistening. She could leave, could get right off this bed right now. But she didn’t want to.

The twins gently nudged her legs apart. She wasn’t sure whose fingers found her, but arching back into that touch felt so good.

“She’s so wet.” Rough satisfaction filled Dre’s voice. Other hands caught her thigh, gently drawing her upward, bracing her. Someone parted her soaked folds, lips eating at her, and she cried out. The arousal was agony. Pure, heated pleasure sizzling through her.

“Are you ready for this? For us?” Rafer asked.

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