Page 186 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

But about staying here at Sagebrush.

Forever.

44

NELLY

Wade's mouth claimed mine with galvanizing intensity; it both urged me onward and assured me he would safeguard my heart. His lips were tantamount to a spoken promise.

I’ll wrap you in a protective layer of my own design.

Like zinc coated around pitted steel.

I’ll make you impossibly strong, Nelly.

His kisses, offered so feverishly, nearly overpowered the voracious, volcanic ache of my heat. God, his mouth was softer than I'd ever imagined, contrasting with the rough stubble that scraped deliciously against my skin. I melted against him, my legs threatening to give out, as his tongue swept inside my mouth, trying to twine with my tongue so we never had to stop kissing. Our kiss was a dance. It was beautiful. He was as good as any dancer I’d ever had on stage.

Despite his fervent need, Wade didn’t lose control. He remained the man with the healing hands, tending pregnant animals and nursing near life.

My fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as Wade groaned against my lips. The vibration traveled through me, settling between my thighs where the slickhad already soaked through my jeans. His large hands spanned my waist, fingers pushing into my flesh as if he feared I might disappear if he loosened his grip. Yet, still, when I whimpered as he tightened his grip too greatly, his hold relaxed. He didn’t want to hurt me, even while lost in passion.

"Nelly," he breathed against my mouth when we briefly parted for air. His pupils had expanded so far that only a thin ring of green remained. "God, you taste like everything I've ever wanted."

I didn't have time to respond before his lips recaptured mine, more insistent now. The temperature in the barn seemed to rise ten degrees as Wade pressed me against him, his hardness evident the middle of my stomach. He was so tall.They were all so tall.Muscles for miles. Veritable giants. My body, now conformed to Wade’s, made me suddenly realize how very small I was in comparison. My heat surged in response, another cramp seizing my abdomen. It wasn’t horribly painful anymore, instead brimming with urgency and demand. I whimpered into his mouth, arching my back and pushing my pelvis forward so drastically that Wade’s hands rushed to the small of my back to help me tilt and support me while leaning further forward to keep us smashed savagely together.

“Don’t stop kissing me,” I moaned against his lips, eyes closed. “Don’t ever stop.”

But seconds later, he was stopping. A third, enormous hand suddenly gripped my shoulder. I knew it wasn’t Wade’s, because his hands currently kneaded my spine. I was pulled backwards, my lashes parted in surprise. I let out an animalistic wail of protest, my Omega wanting to finish what Wade and I had started. Finish it until we were both stripped bare, panting on the floor of the barn. A bolt of fury ignited in my chest, but the feeling quickly fizzled as I was twirled around, so quickly myhead spun, to press against a new ridged, solid chest. A wall of strength. Line after line of muscle.Wyatt.

Wyatt, who’d shown me a hint of darkness beneath his charismatic exterior that morning in the kitchen when my Alphas were hiding the truth about the Eros email. When he’d nearly lost it about the empty percolator. When he’d pulled away from me like I was his enemy. Right now, his expression held that same sort of thinly checked ferality. The forest of his eyes was burning down, tree trunks turning into ash.

The way he stared at me took my breath away.

Like I was the only water that could douse the forest fire.

Like I was the very clouds in the sky, pregnant with rain and salvation.

"My turn," he growled, voice pitched so low it was barely human.

Where Wade had been gentle despite his hunger, Wyatt was an all-consuming force. He crashed his lips against mine like this was his only chance to kiss me, and he planned to make the most of it. One of his hands wrapped around the back of my head, capturing ginger strands and positioning my head exactly where he wanted it to be with gentle tugs of my hair. His other hand spilled across my upper back, keeping me as close as possible. His tongue did not dance, it slayed. It stole territory, conquering me with decisive resolve.

I surrendered completely—the twinging cramps in my stomach, the gushing slick, the radiating heat, the brain fog that made everything seem surreal and dreamlike. My body kept responding, with no end in sight.

Fresh floods of wetness.

Breath catching as my lungs struggled to gasp for air through minuscule gaps between our mouths when Wyatt repositioned us.

Wyatt’s taste was spicier than Wade’s but held the same base flavors.

These men, these Alpha twins, were impossibly wonderful. Impossibly mine.

My hands found purchase on Wyatt’s shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle there as he continued to plant flags of ownership with every undulation of his gloriously firm tongue.

He was just too tall. I found myself lifting as high as I could, wishing for pointe shoes, wishing to be taller.

When Wyatt finally pulled away, arms dropping around my waist and hands knitting against my lower back, we were both panting like we’d run a marathon. I collapsed against him, grateful for the circle of his arms as my knees threatened to buckle.

A second pulse, added to the one currently racing through my veins, pounded between my legs.