Page 18 of Tamed Wolf (Rejected Mates of the Shelter #4)

Lark, Now

Everything hurts, and I have no concept of time. I've been a prisoner in my own head all week, because after that first dose of whatever shit my exes gave me, I had to mentally distance myself if I wanted to get through it.

I spent a full day hating myself for ending my date with the triplets so badly, because if I'd been even slightly more gracious about it all, maybe they would have checked on me and gotten me out before it got to this point. I only have myself to blame that no one wondered about my well-being.

By day two it was my exes that became the enemy. They've always been the enemy, but they've always been so good about getting inside my head, making me talk to myself like I'm shit, telling myself that I need to do better if I wanted to be worth something. It was somewhat healing to do nothing but mentally list all the exact reasons I hated them.

When I disassociated long enough, I started to dwell on other things. Like the way the triplets talked to me, remembering the reverent way they touched me, the crazed way they looked when they smelled me. I have no business wanting a pack so much younger than me, a pack that is friends with my own son, but I can't deny how badly my entire body yearns for them.

On day three the heat ramped up, and I felt like I was being incinerated. But even in that awful state, my head and my body knew better than to give my exes an ounce of what I could offer. I decided right then and there that I would rather incinerate in real life than let them anywhere near me again. If they wanted me, they’d have to take me by force.

As big of dirt bags as they are, I know they would never take me against my will. I think they enjoyed watching me hurt for rejecting them, though. For turning down their advances like I was being dumb. Like I was the one messed up in the head.

I couldn't keep track of how many days passed after that, because they kept injecting me when I stopped reacting to them. I can still hear the awful way Trevor would laugh as he stabbed my thigh, plunging the foul liquid into me. And at some point, it didn't really matter anymore. I felt like I was going to die anyway, so I just tried to hold on to happy memories.

Like the way Camden felt in my arms when he was little, the secret way we used to be able to play together with nobody around to interrupt us. How we'd cuddle under the bed in a ramshackle fort and read all the library books we could get our hands on. The sweet sound of his giggle, and the way his eyes would light up when the shelter had chocolate pudding for dessert.

I spent time just trying to be with the goddess, trying to accept her and communicate with her, to feel her presence. I couldn't pray, that felt too complicated. But I imagined lying in her lap as she stroked my hair for me, pulling the tension from my body.

I know my body needs sustenance, but Trevor and Ivan have never been great about feeding me when they put me in the cage because they tell me they don't want a fat stripper, and the more they feed and water me, the more they have to let me use the bathroom. I think they realize if they don't give me anything I won't have to go. Easier for them, I guess.

I honestly thought I was dreaming when I felt the triplets nearby. I thought I was hallucinating, because good things don't happen to me.

And yet, here I am, back in their house. A place I can't help but feel safe in because nothing bad has ever known me here. Maybe I only spent one night here, but that's more happy memories than I've had anywhere else.

Having them near me is twisting the pain inside of me into something new. It's blooming, growing, making my body twist in new ways as it tries to tell me what it needs.

And this mattress I'm on? Oh gods the feel of these sheets alone could probably set me off at this point. “I need my clothes off,” I say, maybe out loud and maybe not. The room is spinning a bit, my eyes are blurry, and my head's a mess, but I know that I need to feel the soft flannel of the sheets against my skin.

“Here, let me help you with that, baby,” an angel says in my ear. The most delicious smell overcomes me as my eyes close, my body crying out when his hands skim against my skin, trying to pull off my shirt. The weight of his body on top of me as he works has me soaking through my underwear, my head thrashing back and forth. It's been so long since I've felt actual desire, that it takes me far too long to figure out what it is I really want.

But then he gets close to me, close enough that I can actually see his face, can trace the shape of his mouth. I need to kiss him like I need to breathe, need to feel him pushing me into this mattress like I need sleep at night.

I'm still in a bra and panties, but I can feel the roughness of his jeans and the obstacle of his belt buckle keeping us apart, and even that texture on my skin that's so overly sensitive right now has my head spinning even more.

“Do you know who I am, Lark? Do you know my name?”

I put my arms around his neck and breathe him in, in that spot between his neck and his shoulder that's so richly scented of eucalyptus and lavender, doing wonders to clear my head. “I’d know you anywhere, Beckett. You're the morning sun. You can't forget the sun even though it disappears at night. Even when the sun goes away for months in the winter, you still know it when it comes back. Are you real? Are you actually here? Or is this all a dream I'm going to wake up from and hate?”

“Can you feel my fingers on your side, Lark? Do you feel my breath on your skin? Can you feel my tongue on your skin?” And he licks against my collarbone, slowly and purposefully, then pulls back to catch my reaction.

My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head from the contact, so I try to get further into the bed so I can pull him tighter to me. “I feel you,” I whisper against him. “Can you make it better?” I know I have no right to ask, but I need this so bad. I'm shamelessly rubbing myself against him, using his body in any way I need to, any way I can reach, but the way his scent changes, intensifies even, tells me I'm okay.

“I'm going to give you anything you need, baby. You want the moon? I'll find a way to go get it. You want the world? It's yours. Nothing is too much for you right now. What do you want?”

He runs his nose against me, and I hold his head to me, my fingers running through his messy hair, trying to use his chin to push my bra out of the way so I can use his tongue all over my breasts.

“I don't think I can have all the things I want,” I pant. “There's too many of them. I want way too much. I'm not allowed to want. It took me far too long to learn that lesson.” Sadness rushes through me and I feel so shameful, so wanton, but not in a good way. “I feel like a paper plate that’s all used up. I've carried out any purpose I was supposed to have and now I'm just waiting to be thrown out. Again.” The heat rising within me is unbearable, and I'm sweating and I'm gross, but my mind won't stop focusing on how good he smells.

“I know you're completely out of your mind in the fog right now baby, and you probably won't remember any of what I'm about to tell you, but I'm going to say it just the same. I don't care if I get zapped by the goddess for saying so, because I think she'd agree with me. She gave you shit mates. I don't even have a word bad enough in my vocabulary to describe what I think of them, but they're definitely not men.

“We don't know half the things they put you through, can't list all the ways they've manipulated you over the years or how many times they made you think you're less than, but I want you to know that we're going to do whatever it godsdamned takes to undo each and every way they've made you feel bad about yourself. So when I look at you? I gotta be honest here, baby. All I see is perfection.

“Never been to the strip club before, never need to go again. You're all I need, all my brothers need, and just in case you're ready to hear it, you're all my kid needs. I don't just think you hung the moon; I think you created it. I think you've got a piece of the goddess inside you that outshines everybody else I've ever met.

“It fucking kills me to see you so messed up like this, knowing that all you ever asked for was to be loved, to be cared for. So no, there's nothing you could ask for that I will deny. If it's within my power, it's yours. If it's not within my power, I will find a way to get it within my power so I can give it to you. So, I'm going to ask you again. What do you want ?”

If this is all in my head, then I've gotten a hell of a lot more creative than I knew I could be. Beckett dips his head again, running his tongue slowly across my collarbone and up the side of my neck, his teeth nibbling right over the spot that I was marked before. I have an instant fantasy of them erasing it for me, somehow getting rid of the filthy bond that I never really wanted, the one that they took from me when I was too young and too weak to stand against all the adults in my life intent on destroying me.

If all I have is right now, and if this is all I'm going to get, then I better make it count. “Take these stupid pants off,” I beg, running my hands down his side lightly, catching on the buckle there. “They're pissing me off.”

He does so much more than just take them off. He backs up, smiling at my attitude, and takes everything on his body off. I didn't think I could want like this. Not really. I always thought there was something intrinsically wrong with me, but now I think it's just because Trevor and Ivan broke me. They tainted everything that sex could be between two wolves who actually want each other, and these wolves, this pack, makes me feel safe and valued.

I fumble with my own underwear, hands uncoordinated and jerky. I can't do much and my mind is racing, my body out of control from all the shit I was given, feeling like a junkie in need of a fix.

“You need me to stop at any point, you just say so. Do you understand me, Lark? The second you start to feel discomfort, the second your desire wanes, you tell me. I don't care if I'm half a second from pumping you full of my cum, I'll pull out and back away immediately.”

“Don't…don't leave me I... I need this. I feel so broken right now, out of control. I think you guys are the only thing that can make it better.” The admission is choked out of me, but once it's out there, I don't want to take it back.

“Do you need me to take control, Lark? Is that what you need most from me right now?”

I nod and he carefully removes my underwear, then my bra, fingers skimming me and driving me higher the whole time. I can't spread my legs fast enough, dying to feel his bare skin against the heat of me.

“Goddess, look at you. You're dripping. Are you hurting right now, Lark? Can I make it better for you?”

“Need to feel you inside of me moving, slamming into me, flipping me over and smacking into me. If that's something you can do, I need to experience it. I need to know what it's like.”

“What what's like, love?” he asks as a hand drops around the thick, hard length of him, pumping up and down slowly.

How many times have I been in this position with Trevor and Ivan? Every damn time it's felt lecherous, like I was just there to get them off. But Beckett is looking into my eyes, and I can tell that he appreciates my body because it's part of me , not because it's appealing to him. “Need to know what it's like to feel like I matter, like I'm worthy of having someone care for me. I know that's a lot to ask of you, and maybe this is just sex to you—"

“You have no idea how goddessdamned possessive we already feel of you. I know getting us all out of this whole mess might be a bit tricky, but for now, I want you to revel in the fact that I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. Pretend like they can still feel that tainted mate bond they shattered, and while I’m moving inside of you, let them know how much better we can take care of you, because they failed.”

And with that, he eases inside of me. I can feel the latex barrier he's sheathed himself with which makes me feel respected, but also stirs up more complicated emotions. I know it’s the safe, responsible choice, but I don’t feel like being safe or responsible.

I want to get as far away from the sad, tolerant version of me as I can get. I want to be reckless and free, but I don’t know how to even take that first step.

That first thrust is already so different. I'm used to them forcing themselves in and not caring about how it is for me. But as Beckett slowly works himself inside my body, I decide then and there to stop thinking about the wolves that put me in this condition. No matter what it takes, I'm going to find a way to get them out of my life. No matter the cost.

When he's fully inside of me, Beckett immediately withdraws and slides back in, changing the angle of his hips and watching me, making sure I'm not wincing or anything. “Too slow,” I croak out.

“I'll get you there, baby, promise. I want to make sure your body's ready for me. I can't hurt you, you're too precious.” He starts driving me crazy, filling me up and then taking himself away, over and over again until I feel as if I'm going to go mad from need. I hook my heels behind his back, trying to push him into me more, and eventually, he gives it to me.

My legs get draped over the top of his arms as he presses forward to kiss me, connecting us on every plane. I can feel his abs curling as he works himself in and out of me, making me feel in control for the first time in days as he nibbles on my neck, pressing his teeth lightly into the skin there. Just enough to tease me, to make me even needier.

Another wave of heat washes over me, making me cry out, and he gets the hint. He pulls out and swiftly grabs me by the hips, flipping me over like a damn pancake as he rams into me from behind. He pulls my ass high in the air, making me present for him while he runs a hand down my spine and whispers “Good wolf,” in my ear.

Oh yeah, my wolf likes that a lot.

To be fair though, she is a good wolf.

From this angle everything feels so different and he's able to go even faster, so I take what he gives me, letting the euphoria wash over me. I've never climaxed with just penetration before, so I'm surprised when I feel a deep pull inside of me, hitting me far different than I’ve felt. But it hits me hard, and I can feel my body clenching, daring Beckett to keep trying to move in and out.

I scream out, unable to stay quiet; it's just too much. The heat likes this, demands more.

Another voice comes in the room, murmuring something to Beckett that I can’t make out when I’m in this fog, but I know that voice, and I whip my head around so fast I'm surprised I don't sprain it. “Blake? Are you here for me?”

I hate how unsure I sound; love the way he growls as he stalks across the room. He gets down on the bed next to me, bringing his face close to me so that we're breathing the same air. “Of course I'm here for you. Think there's anywhere else I want to be?”

“Rowan?” I don't want to remind them that they have somebody else important in their life, somebody way important than me in fact, but I should have known they wouldn't let me down. I don't need to worry about them parenting that angel baby, because everything they do is perfect, apparently.

He shakes his head. “He's with our parents. We’re all yours, Lark.”

Just that bit of sacrifice overwhelms me, and I don't even notice that Beckett isn’t inside me anymore because my brain is having a hard time focusing on more than one thing. Now I feel empty, and also like I kind of want to crawl inside Blake's skin.

Scooting as close to him as I can get, I curl into him, pressing our bodies together. I bury my face in the column of his throat and inhale the calming scent there, letting it wash over me and center me. “This is too much,” I whisper against him. I feel his rough hands smooth back my hair, then run down my back. Once again, I don't feel like an object as he holds me even while I'm naked. He's treating me like he’s just here to give me what I need, not to take anything for himself. Even though he just walked right in and saw what I was doing with my body, he’s not helping himself to what his body may want. This is revelatory for me.

“Why do you look confused?” His thumb sneaks out to my eyebrows and smooths them out, flattening them.

“I just thought... do you not want me?”

He presses his hips against me firmer, showing exactly how useless that question was. “Lark, if you're wondering why I'm not making a move on you currently, it's because this is your body. I have no right to it. I know that must be novel thing for you to hear, but you have full agency over your body. If you want to share it with me, you're going to have to tell me so. Just like you had to tell my brother. And like you'll have to tell my other brother when he comes. And just so you know, if Beckett is the only one you want right now, that's completely allowed. You don't feel bad if that's the only thing driving you at the moment. We're not going to throw a fit because we don't get our dicks wet. We just want to take care of you and help you through this. We want to see you back to your normal, gorgeous self that isn’t listless and glassy-eyed. You scared the shit out of us, beautiful."

Sadness hits me, because what happens after this? Then I decide that I've already been through the worst that could happen, and I ask him that exact question out loud.

“After this? You mean when we tame your heat? The ones those fucks forced on you?”

I nod, scared to hear the answer. I’m scared of everything and I'm sick of it. I'm sick to death of being scared of my own damn shadow, of being tamed and poised to please.

“What's going to happen,” he starts, “is that we're going to give you every damn thing you want while your body is going through this. You want three hours of back rubs, you're going to get a three hour back rub. You want a specific milkshake from a specific joint two hours away? Guess what? There's three of us; one of us would be more than happy to go get whatever it is you want. Nothing is too good for you. You hear me?

“When we make it through this heat of yours, and we will make it through, we're gonna continue to take care of you. We don't end just because your heat does. And we have no expectations, so don't think we're trading favors. That shit won't fly here. Not in this pack.”

“I'm not in your pack,” I say almost too quiet for even his delicate hearing to pick up.

He holds my chin up and makes me look him in the eye. “You forgot the ‘yet’ in that sentence. You're not in our packet yet . We'll have time to talk about that later. Right now, you need to know that we’re not running when this is done. Don't forget though, we got screwed over with our mate just like you did. Maybe she didn't mess with us the same way yours messed with you, but we've got scars just the same.

“Something about you calls to us though, and our wolves are desperate for you. We're desperate for you. For now, all you need to know is nothing ends when your heat does. This is just the beginning, Lark. Say that. I want to hear you say those words. Out loud.”

It's terrifying, laying here completely naked and bearing myself like this emotionally, and maybe I trusted the mates I got before too easily, but I don't want that experience to ruin what could possibly be the best thing that's ever happened to me aside from my son. “This is just the beginning,” I hear my voice telling him.

“And you're not going to give us shit about our age difference,” he says and then stares me down, waiting for me to repeat it.

I blink my eyes and exhale a little bit forcefully. “And I'm not going to question you about the age gap.”

“And you're not going to complain when we want to wait on you hand and foot, even when you're not in heat anymore.”

“Seriously? Is this necessary?”

“Say it, Lark,” he growls.

“And I'm not going to complain if you want to take care of me.”

Blake shakes his head. “That's not what I said. Verbatim, Lark.

A whine escapes my throat, and I start rubbing my thighs together, because even this brief reprieve is almost too much for me. I need them to be pounding into me, need to feel connected.

“I'm losing you, Lark. If you want me to touch you, you’ve got to tell me. You need to tell me exactly what you need from me. Get used to talking for yourself, for asking for your needs to be met. I don't care if you think the needs are pointless, if it's something you feel you need, it's important to us.”

“Need you inside of me, Blake.”

“You going to let us knot you?”

My eyes widen at the unexpected request, my brain immediately shutting down that option because it knows it’s not a real offer. It can’t be. “I've never… and you can't. I'm not your mate,” I say pathetically.

“You've never what ?” His eyes dilate even more, and I know his wolf is coming closer to the surface. “Are you telling me those worthless mates of yours didn't knot you?”

I shake my head, ashamed. “They didn't like me talking about it, because they would barely inflate anytime we were together. Even if they wanted to, it wouldn't do much. Looking back, I think they were self-conscious. I think it made them feel less like males, that they couldn't knot me properly. They made me feel like it was my fault. That I didn't deserve it and that’s why they couldn’t get it up.”

The sounds he makes are more animal than human, voicing his aggravation and anger. But I know it's not towards me.

He grabs my hand, places it over his crotch, hissing in a breath at the simple touch over the clothes. “Tell me again, Lark. What can't I do?”

He presses my fingertips up and down his thick erection, outlining him, and then we get to the base of him, and I don't understand what I'm feeling. I can't breathe, the blood is rushing around too fast inside of me, and I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate. I meet his eyes, not knowing exactly what this means, afraid to hope for something impossible.

“That's for you, but only if you want it.”

I don't know how, and I don't really care at the moment; I just know that I need it inside of me. The emptiness inside of me is aching, pulsing, and demanding to be filled. To be stretched to glorious torment and choked.

I thought I felt something when Beckett was working me over, but I chalked it up to wishful thinking because I wanted so badly to be knotted. Hard to convince myself I’m crazy though when I’m getting such blatant confirmation.