Page 4

Ethan

XANDER LEFT US around 3 a.m. Billie had to pee around 4 a.m. and then went in search of our overworked, stressed-out alpha. Both of them believed their absences had gone undetected.

As soon as Billie made her escape for the bathroom, Jax curled right up on me, his arm banded around my torso, one of his legs thrown over both of mine, and his face nuzzled into my neck. I gladly gave all of myself to him.

I felt her energy before she left the room. I felt her observe Jax, checking to make sure he was okay, and what she saw had her feeling comfortable enough to leave us in search of Xander. Maybe she could sense it. Maybe the slow rise and fall of his ribs with his steady breathing set her at ease. Whatever it was, I know she saw what I felt. What I feel. I will protect him. I will be here for him, and if I’m honest, I’m more than happy to be the body Jax snuggles.

The events of last night, having to see and feel him being violated, to hear his internal cries, to find him paralyzed and half-naked on the forest floor—all of it—enraged me, gutted me, shamed me. The anger and devastation are feelings that I would have expected. But the shame? I did not expect that, and it took me until we got home and Jax was in Billie’s care for me to decipher that shame was what I was actually feeling.

The anger and rage burned bright and fast like magnesium—white hot, incinerating everything to dust. Not much mattered except for removing the source of that anger. The anguish was a heaviness in my limbs, a choking in my throat, but there was a third underlying feeling, one somehow thick and suffocating but hard to hold on to. Then I remembered. I remembered how I felt when my parents died and how my aunt had judged me to be the cause of their death. That was the feeling of guilt, and to me, that was more familiar than shame.

I was ashamed because of how closed off I’d kept myself even from Xander and Jaxson all these years. I’ve never let myself fully own and experience my appreciation and love for Jax let alone shown him to the extent that he deserves.

I lie here now with him wrapped around me, and the reality of what I’ve not expressed, what I’ve not given or allowed to be seen, lies heavy on my chest. A flash of memory, of him breaking down when his body would finally obey, assaults me. His pain is my pain. This soul curled up on my body means more to me than I’ve let him or myself really acknowledge. When my parents died, Jax never once left my side or treated me differently, unlike so many others who did when I became an orphan. He and Xander stood by me from the beginning. They stood by me before our first shift, before we knew we’d be bonded pack-mates. Both of them never left me, but Jax was the one who made sure we lived and not just survived—made sure we knew we were worthy of experiencing good things.

With Jax’s arm draped over my chest and his head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, I’m acutely aware of him, and I feel the moment tension stiffens his body. His breathing becomes shallow, and tremors run through his limbs. “No, no, no,” he mumbles against my neck. “Not my mate! NOT MY MATE!” he cries.

“Jax,” I murmur, my fingers lightly tapping his arm. His grip on me tightens, and he buries his face into my chest while he brings his leg up higher on my waist. His body shudders, and I wrap my arm around his back, pulling him in tighter. Dipping my chin down, I kiss the top of his head and whisper, “I’ve got you, Jax. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

My other hand comes up to stroke his arm across my chest, the tension in him eases, and I keep caressing his arm and kissing his head. His chest rumbles against mine, and I feel his lips on my flesh. I inhale and crane my head back, opening for him, giving him more of me. I feel the hot puff of his breath on my skin as he moans against my neck, and the sound stirs something deeper, something lower inside me. His hand on my chest slides up to brace the side of my head while his lips kiss their way to my jaw and along my cheek. When he’s close enough, I tilt my face toward his, meeting his lips with mine.

Jaxson

I was having flashbacks of Amber touching me. I was trying to fight her off, screaming at her, “No. NOT MY MATE!” but my body was unresponsive, and my screams seemed strangled. A feeling of helplessness wrapped around me, like I was tangled up in a bed of seaweed pulling me underwater. Then I heard him. I heard Ethan whisper my name, and it cut through the bindings, my shaking body clinging to his as he brought me to the surface.

He held me tighter while softly stroking my arm and kissing my head, letting me know he was here with me. Just like he was last night. Ethan stayed with me. He suffered with me so I wouldn’t have to suffer alone, and his wolf howled out my wolf’s refusal when he couldn’t. My heart seizes with emotion, with a feeling of love for Ethan and the need to express it.

My fingers brush over his chest, feeling the cool, hard metal of one of his nipple rings under my fingertips, and I bring my lips to his neck in tentative kisses. Ethan opens for me—he opens for me, and my chest rumbles in appreciation while my kisses become more sure, more insistent, as my lips travel higher. My hand sweep around to cup the side of his head, holding him. When my lips are mere centimeters from his, Ethan moves just enough to give me access, to own his part in whatever is happening between us. That one action, that show of confidence and assurance in him, in us, softens the tension in my chest while hardening lower parts.

His hand on my shoulder skates up over my neck to hold the back of my head. His lip ring brushes my lips as he softly asks, “Are you awake Jax?”

I open my eyes, finding Ethan’s ink-black eyes staring at me with both concern and desire. I swallow and cautiously reply, “Yes. Are you Ethan?”

For a span of time that may only be seconds but feels like days, he stays silent while his eyes hold mine, and his long fingers twirl in the locks of my hair. Then a glint of roguish confidence, that is all Ethan, brightens those seemingly bottomless eyes, and his upper lip tugs up on one side. “I am,” he asserts, his voice rough and gravely, then his mouth is on mine.

My seizing heart shoots up into my throat, and I groan into our kiss. My grip on his jaw becomes firmer while my tongue seeks his, as his seeks mine. I’m rising up his body, wanting to have more of my flesh on his, wanting him under me—and Ethan’s doing the same. I growl out with frustration. Ethan smirks against my lips, nipping them, while his hand travels down my torso, reaching around my low back. He grips my ass and lifts me partway up like he’s helping me move on top of him, only to set me down with him on top of me. Cheeky fuck.

Ethan

We’re kissing each other.

Jax and I are kissing each other with an ease that is indicative of a long relationship. I’m half lying on him, our hands exploring each other’s bodies in ways we’ve never done before. We’ve touched each other and snuggled naked with one another, but never have we felt each other like this. Never have we explored the other’s flesh with this desire riding us.

Our lips and tongues are tasting one another, and it’s different. I’ve never kissed a man like this before, and his mouth is bigger than any mouth I’ve kissed. His lower lip is thick and plush, and there’s a pressure to our kisses, like we’re reminding each other we’re both male, both still betas. Although with our mate we can be soft, but with each other we want to be men. If we’re kissing each other, if we’re exploring our desire for the other, then we’re making damn sure there’s no way to mistake the other for a female.

And based on my racing heart, the trembling in my fingers, the hunger to keep my mouth on his and the pressure in my balls, I enjoy kissing and touching this man. I do desire him. I do like the feel of our flesh touching. I like his large hand holding my face while the other kneads and brushes its way down my body. I like the feel of his thick, coarse hair. I like tugging on it, and I like the broadness of his shoulders and the hardness of his muscles under my touch, under my body. Inhaling the scent of campfire and cinnamon only intensifies the pleasures I’m feeling.

Jax’s hand reaches lower on my hip, and my stomach clenches in anticipation when I feel his fingertips dip below the waistband of my boxer briefs. Pushing his hand inside, he rubs my bare hipbone, and with each pass, his hand stretches lower, driving my boxers down until my cock is freed.

I’ve moved off him, so we’re both on our sides facing each other, our lips still engrossed in our kisses. My hand massages its way from his ass to his hip and forward still. I slip my fingertips under his trunks, and my touch is welcomed by the heat of his desire. My palm is flat against the shaved area just above his shaft, and I feel the rapid beat of his pulse under my touch.

“Look at me, Jax,” I request against his lips before pulling back. He opens his eyes, one green, one blue, both dilated. We keep rubbing and pressing into the skin surrounding our cocks. Keeping my eyes on his, I brush my hand along the front of his hip, going lower and lower with each pass until I’ve pushed his boxers down to his thighs. Jax, always helpful, lifts his hips up to help. I trail my hand up the front of his upper thigh and then inward, close enough that my pinky feels the thin skin of his balls—and it’s like I can’t help myself. I cup his balls and let them roll around in my loosely cupped hand. Jax’s mouth opens wide with a sharp intake of air.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask while keeping my hand open, just letting his balls rest in my palm.

Jax’s eyes never leave mine, but he doesn’t speak. Then I feel him, and my jaw drops open. His fingers trail up the underside of my shaft, and his thumb presses into my slit. I gasp, and my body shudders, giving him what he is searching for. Using my precum as lubricant, his thumb circles and rubs my tip. I’ve yet to close my mouth, panting shallow breaths.

“Are you sure, Ethan?” he counters in a teasing voice.

My lips find his, and my hand confidently squeezes its way up his shaft. He grunts out, and his hips jerk up in response. I continue milking his precum, enough that it starts to dribble down his length, and I begin to stroke his cock. Jax does the same to me.

I pull my mouth from his, and he bites my lower lip in objection. I smirk and nip him back. “Eye contact, Jax,” I hiss.

His eyes remain closed, while his hand increases its pace and pressure, and fresh precum leaks down my shaft. “Fuck,” I grunt, forcing myself to remove my hand from his cock.

Jax’s eyes snap open, and he squeezes my dick. I growl. “Eye contact. You gotta look at me, Jax.”

His hand returns to stroking me while his eyes bore into mine. His breath warms my lips as he says in a steady, sure voice, “I choose you, Ethan. I’m here with you.”

I groan my relief, my desire, into his mouth, and my hand finds his cock once more. We keep our eyes open, our kisses a mix of nipping and breathing, while our hands work our dicks. Damn, his hand is big, able to hold so much of me. Soon we’re both panting into each other’s open mouths, groaning, and grunting, feeling the swelling of our cocks in the other’s hand and vice versa.

“Holy fuck,” I cry out, and Jax roars, “Shit, fuck, yea, Ethan!” As both of us find our release in the other’s hand. His cum shoots out and dribbles over my hand, mine doing the same to him. And then? Then Jax arches a brow, brings his hand to his mouth, and laps up my cum. I meet his challenge with unblinking eyes, and... hell, I’d do it again.

I’d do it all again.

Billie

I convinced Xander to head back up to bed with me. He said yes on the condition I didn’t clean up and instead let his cum drip out naturally. The stronzo . I agreed, but we’ve been standing outside my bedroom door for far too long with freely dripping cum. When we got to the door, we both paused, hearing the panting, groaning, and the sounds of kissing. Not wanting to interrupt, we decided to wait just outside.

Xander’s at my back, his arms wrapped around my chest while his cum runs down my leg. I can feel it on my calf. There are high-pitched shrieks and groans paired with curses that I recognize—pretty sure they both just got off. Craning my head back against Xander’s chest, I look up at him with wide eyes and an even wider mouth, surprised and excited about what I think just happened, and definitely a little disappointed that I didn’t get to witness it.

He meets my gaze with an arched brow and a wry grin. The slimy tingle of cum is now on my inner ankle, and that’s my limit of waiting. Fuck it. I’m pretty sure they’re done, and well, it’s my bedroom, dammit. If they wanted privacy, they’d have gone somewhere else. I turn the handle, and we walk in.

Jaxson and Ethan are on their sides, panting into each other’s mouth, a hand on the other’s hip as they come down from their release. Pulling off my T-shirt, I toss it on the floor and walk over to my bed. Not giving them time to think or question anything, I climb in behind Jax and immediately wrap my arm around his torso. His body tenses, but I ignore it and snuggle my face into the space between his shoulder blades, inhaling his comforting scent.

Xander comes in behind me, and I yawn. “Scoot over, Jax. I think we could all use a little more sleep.” His body jolts in my hold but soon relaxes. I pull my head out of his back to look over his shoulder and find Ethan wiping himself off with a towel before handing it to Jaxson.

“So, you... um,” Jax stutters, loosely holding the towel but not making a move to clean up.

“Yeah,” I answer the question he didn’t finish while yawning again. “Yeah, I know. You and Ethan... Got. It. On .” I giggle and return to my snuggled position, kissing between his shoulder blades. I sigh and say, “Based on the bond, there’s lots of love on both sides, so I’m assuming all is good.”

Ethan leans over Jax and caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers, urging me to angle my head up. His eyes are serious and unflinching, and when I don’t waver under that penetrating gaze, he probes, “So you’re okay with it?”

Tilting my face to kiss his palm, which is a little salty with cum, I say, “Yes. So long as both of you are happy with your choices and keep open communication with each other and us, I’m totally okay.”

“Xander?” Jax asks, rolling onto his back to finish wiping himself clean before pulling me onto his chest.

Xander pulls the blankets up and bands an arm around my waist, refusing to let me completely roll away from him. His eyes flick between Jax and Ethan, and he heavily nods. “Yeah, I’m cool with it. Again, keep communication between all of us open, and”—he lifts a tired shoulder and yawns— “just take it slow. Watch out for one another, and don’t treat it like a separate relationship apart from Wilhelmina and me.”

It’s silent for a few long seconds, and I feel Jax take a hitched breath right before he whimpers, “I love you all so much.”

“We love you so much too, Jax,” the three of us reply back with just as much emotion tugging at our words. I snuggle deeper into him and let my fox hum our love. My mates’ wolves join in, and we hum ourselves to sleep.