Page 31 of Feral Werewolves
But I didn’t come or anything.
Paladin moaned that he couldn’t hold off any longer, and I started to tell him to come, that it was okay, but then the other two, Kestrel and Lazarus, burst back into the room.
It was like when they’d been shifted and Kestrel had pulled Paladin out of me before he could knot me. Kestrel yanked Paladin off my body, forcibly pulling his hard cock out of me.
I made a noise of protest.
Kestrel grabbed Paladin’s pants, thrust them at him, and pushed him out the door.
Lazarus looked me over. He looked older than the other two, but I wasn’t great at judging ages. “Get dressed,” he said to me in a guttural voice, and then he stalked out of the room.
I sat there, feeling annoyed, feeling unfinished, unsatisfied, and I did not get dressed.
I had this urge to demand that someone come in here and get me off. I was so turned on, and so eager for it, and it was a very frustrating feeling.
But that didn’t really seem likely. I’d pissed them off in some way. Kestrel had been angry and also hot for me. Maybe Lazarus was too, considering the way his gaze had moved over my nude skin.
Lazarus ducked his head back inside the door. “You’re not dressed.”
I sputtered.
“You need help?” said Lazarus, coming back inside. “That it?”
I shook my head.
He bent down and fished my bra off the floor. He turned it this way and that. He was a big, burly man and the bra looked ridiculous and dainty in his hands. He settled down on the bed next to me. “Hold your arms out, then,” he said in a gravelly voice.
I did not need this man to dress me, but I did hold my arms out, and he slipped it on and then stretched it around the back. I leaned forward and let him fumble around, trying to do the clasp. I smirked, thinking that I could tell him that this was not the way to put on a bra, that you did the clasp first and then turned it around, but it was kind of fun.
He made a huff of annoyance, tugging me closer so that he could get a better look.
I took this opportunity to climb up on his lap. I straddled one of his thick thighs and pressed my aching pussy against it.
He fumbled with my bra and I began to gently rock myself there. Oh, hell, that was just what I needed. Wouldn’t take me long. My breath caught as I rocked.
“What are you doing?” he breathed.
I tilted my head back, looking up at him. “Please?” I whispered. “I’m close.”
He swallowed hard, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob.
“You all got me so worked up,” I whispered. “I need a release.”
“Fuck,” he said, no bottom to his voice.
It built like a sweet melody, picking up volume and speed as I rocked gently in the same rhythm. It felt better and better andevenbetter. Lazarus brushed his fingers over my lips, my chin. It sent me soaring, and then there was a sweet, explosive crescendo, as I came right there on his thigh.
He let out a noisy breath.
I climbed off him. I’d left a wet spot on his pants. I touched it. “Sorry,” I said.
“I’m never washing them,” he told me, and he kissed me.
That was when Kestrel came in, swearing, and Lazarusclimbed off the bed, sheepish and muttering under his breath.
“Get dressed,” said Kestrel to me. They both left the room again.
I got dressed.
