Betting on Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 2) Read online

  Jack was behind her again, and Kirsten looked over her shoulder, questioningly.

  “Condom,” he said, and bit the back of her neck gently, and Kirsten arched her back.

  Jack entered slowly, almost teasingly, and no matter what Kirsten did, he moved at his own pace, taking her millimeter by millimeter as she kissed his mate, her hand still on Houston’s cock.

  “Fuck, this feels good,” she told Houston, feeling Jack sink deeper and deeper, hitting every last pleasure zone inside her channel.

  “I know,” Houston said.

  Kirsten’s eyes opened again, and she looked into Houston’s steel gray gaze.

  “You two fuck, right?” she asked, totally unable to think of another word for it.

  Make love? No, that was cheesy, something out of an 80’s ballad.

  “All the time,” Houston said.

  Jack thrust in further and further, until she could feel his hips against her ass and he grabbed her hips, then pushed, ever so slightly.

  “Oh god,” Kirsten moaned, and Houston traced the outline of her lip with his thumb.

  “Who fucks who?” she whispered as Jack thrust again, almost as slowly as the first time, his fingers so tight on her hip that she was certain he’d leave bruises.

  “Sometimes I fuck him, sometimes he fucks me,” Houston said, and Kirsten sucked his thumb into her mouth. She had no idea whether it was sexy or not, but she wanted him in her too, even in some small way — and the look in those gray eyes said he was enjoying it.

  “Like this, sometimes,” Houston went on, his voice rumbling through the bed. “Real slow, sometimes right up to the edge.”

  “He likes to make me beg him to cum,” Jack said.

  Houston grinned.

  “You wouldn’t believe how sexy it is,” Houston said. He took his thumb out of her mouth and rubbed it over her hard, pebbled nipple.

  “Yes I would,” Kirsten said, feeling Jack slide all the way in again, her eyes drifting shut. “Fuck,” she whispered.

  “Houston likes it best kind of rough,” Jack said, panting behind her.

  Kirsten was utterly filled with him, right on the brink, and thought that she might cum from his voice alone.

  “He wants me to hold him down, one arm behind his back. On the floor, the kitchen counter. Outdoors. Anywhere we might get caught.”

  He slid in again, and this time Kirsten could only moan, white sparkles in front of her eyes. Before she knew what was happening, she could feel Houston’s lips on her chest, then her belly, her bellybutton, and then her leg was over his shoulder, his head between her thighs, his tongue circling her clit.

  Kirsten grabbed at the bedspread, clenching it so hard that she thought she might rip it.

  “Keep going,” she told Jack.

  With a grunt, he thrust harder, sending a shower of sparks through her body just as Houston’s tongue flicked across her.

  Kirsten nearly screamed, a long animal noise leaving her, a noise she’d never, ever made before.

  “God, that was sexy,” he growled. “Do you know how sexy you are?”

  She just moaned again, feeling him fill her, her mind nearly shutting down with pleasure.

  “The second I saw you, I thought, that’s her,” Jack whispered. “It was over. I was done.”

  He thrust again, harder and harder, and Houston’s tongue flattened against her, and Kirsten moaned, the noise coming out as a long stream of nonsense syllables.

  “I want to feel you cum around me,” he whispered into her ear, and that was all it took.

  Kirsten felt like something inside her burst, shattered, and this time she did scream, an utterly primal noise as her sense of self, of reality, all washed away as she came so hard she thought she might black out.

  When it was over, Houston sat up on one elbow, coming back to face level with Kirsten, but watching both of them.

  “That felt so good,” Jack whispered to both of them. Kristen could feel his lips on the back of her neck, and then he pressed his face against her, Houston’s eyes going wide.

  “I’m gonna cum,” Jack murmured. “Jesus, Kirsten, you feel so good I—”

  His words cut off, and he growled against her neck. Inside her, Kirsten could feel his cock spasm for a long, long time, and she could see the fascinated look on Houston’s face, only inches from her own as Jack slowed gradually, his torso heaving against her back, until he finally slid out, still holding tight to her.

  “You like watching us,” Kirsten said to Houston, still on her side. She glanced down at his long, thick cock, still proud and upright.

  “How could I not?” he asked, grinning, pressing himself against her. “Have you seen how hot it is when you two fuck?”

  Kirsten took his cock in her hand, getting a low rumble from Houston’s chest in response.

  “Next time get a room with a mirror,” she said. “That way you can watch the whole thing.”

  Next time, she thought to herself.

  Jack grabbed her shoulder and pushed Kirsten onto her back, making her yelp with surprise, and Houston quickly rolled on top of her, bringing her legs onto either side of his thick, muscled torso. She still had one hand around Houston’s cock, and now she squeezed, just hard enough.

  He chuckled, then grabbed her wrist, moving it away from him and pinning it down with his hand, and then he lifted her knee over his shoulder, extending her leg out.

  “You flexible?” he asked, tracing his fingers down the back of her leg.

  “Hardly,” said Kirsten. Now his cock was against the crease where her thigh met her hip, and she was panting again.

  “I told you, he likes it when you beg,” said Jack, on his side next to her, as Houston got to his knees, Kirsten’s legs over his shoulders. “Want to hear a story?”

  Jack put his mouth over one of her nipples and ran his tongue along it, biting gently, making her gasp.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “We met at a bar,” he started. “I’d just gotten off my shift, walked in, and there’s this man I’d never seen before, drinking a beer.”

  Kirsten’s eyes were wide, and one of her hands drifted to her own nipple, pinching it slowly, biting her lip. She looked down at Houston, at his perfect body and handsome face, right there between her legs.

  “Then what?” she whispered.

  “I got myself a beer and walked over and said hello,” Jack said. He moved his hand to Kirsten’s slit, rubbing her until she groaned softly, raising her hips. “We were younger and a little less patient.”

  “It took ten minutes,” Houston said. “There was some small talk, about jobs or something. I don’t think we exchanged names, and then Jack whispers in my ear the men’s room has a door that locks, bites my earlobe, and walks off.”

  The thought of him and Jack in a bathroom stall years ago only made her hotter and wetter. Jack reached for Houston’s cock, slowly stroking it up and down, still lying on his side next to Kirsten.

  “He didn’t even say hello, just pushed me up against the wall,” said Jack. “Tore my shirt and nearly chipped a tooth.”

  He moved his hand from the tip of Houston’s cock to Kirsten’s slit, and she arched her back, bringing her hips up as he traced her wetness around her, then rubbed it onto Houston’s erection.

  “I meant to take him home,” said Houston, flexing his hand around Kirsten’s wrist, still held down against the bed. Her chest was heaving now, and she tightened her thighs, trying to bring him in, but he held fast. “But I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Later, I found out that the bartender could hear me shouting ‘Fuck me harder,’” Jack said. “We were never allowed back at that bar.”

  “I had bruises for a week where he bit me,” Houston said, grinning.

  Jack closed his mouth around her nipple and bit, harder this time.

  Kirsten’s eyes slid closed, and she moaned softly.

  “So he wasn’t begging you,” she told Houston. “‘Fuck me harder,’ is a command
.”

  “I guess I take commands sometimes,” Houston said.

  “Let my wrist go,” Kirsten said.

  He did.

  “Go sit in that chair,” she whispered, pointing at a big leather armchair next to the window.

  He lowered himself, pressing his cock against her, Jack’s hand still wrapped around it.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice low and lusty, awakening every inch of Kirsten’s body.

  “I’m going to ride you like a bad pony,” she whispered, squeezing him between her legs, trying to move him against her, wanting more than anything to get the tip, just the tip, inside, but she couldn’t.

  Her command worked. Houston got up, grabbing the condom from the bedside stand, then sitting in the huge arm chair and unrolling it onto his cock, grinning at where Kirsten and Jack still sat on the bed, watching him hungrily.

  As she stood up, Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her back, kissing her hard. Then he let her go, and Kirsten walked toward the chair by the window, grabbing the back and leaning over Houston, his silver sideburns glowing in the light.

  Slowly, feeling as though her heart might beat out of her chest, she knelt over him, running her hands down his face.

  “Think this window is tinted?” she asked.

  “I’ve got no idea,” Houston said.

  “I heard you liked getting nearly caught,” she said.

  He grabbed onto her hips as she hovered over him, kissing her lower belly. It tickled, and Kirsten giggled.

  “Please,” he said, and with that, Kirsten bit her lip and lowered herself until the tip of his cock was right at her entrance, and then she put one finger over his lips.

  “Don’t move,” she said.

  Houston just nodded, and Kirsten slid down, bit by bit, letting him fill her until, at last, she was simply sitting on him, his entire shaft buried deep inside her.

  She dropped her head until their foreheads were touching and just barely moved her hips, then gasped.

  “You feel so good,” she whispered.

  He pinched one nipple and Kirsten gasped, straightening her back, moving her hips again with a shock of pleasure that reverberated through her whole body.

  Then Jack was there, behind her, his big body arching over hers, his hand on her hip, his mouth on her neck, and she began to find a rhythm. Her hips bucked back and forth as she rode Houston, his cock inside her making her nearly delirious.

  “You’ve fucked other women, right?” she asked.

  “Not like this.”

  “But you have.”

  Houston just nodded.

  “Ever at the same time?” Kirsten said, softly, still moving her hips in time, leaning her face against Houston’s.

  “Always at the same time,” he said.

  Kirsten felt like her brain was sparking, close to shorting out, her body moving on its own. Having him inside her felt so unbelievably good that she couldn’t speak, only bite her lip, their faces pressed together.

  “Have you ever both been inside at once?” she whispered, her hand on his face.

  Houston just nodded, and then she felt Jack’s weight on the chair as well, his body wrapping around hers.

  “A couple times,” his voice said in her ear.

  “What was it like?” she asked.

  “A little tricky at first,” Jack said. “Technically challenging, if you will.”

  On Houston, she moved faster and faster, feeling herself edge toward orgasm.

  “Wait,” said Jack. “Turn around, I want to see you this time.”

  He lifted her off of Houston and sat her back on the chair, this time facing him. One more time, Kirsten let herself slid down Houston’s cock savoring every centimeter of pleasure as she did. Jack kissed her hard, and she moaned into his mouth.

  “Tell me how it felt,” she said as he leaned over her.

  I wonder if I could do it, she thought. It seemed dubious, but what about today hadn’t been kind of dubious?

  Instead of answering her, Jack kissed her slowly, his hands thumbing over both of her nipples.

  “It felt pretty good,” he said, a grin on his face. “Tight and wet, my cock sliding against Houston’s.”

  Heat washed over Kirsten.

  I want that, she thought.

  “Did she like it?”

  “She seemed to.”

  He kissed her again, and now Houston’s hand was snaking around, seeking out her clit, and Kirsten moaned again, wrapping both hands around Jack’s head, leaning against Houston.

  “I don’t remember her name,” Jack said. “I don’t remember most of their names.”

  “Say mine.”

  “Kirsten,” growled Houston.

  “You,” she told Jack.

  He grinned.

  “Kirsten.”

  “Say it again.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

  “Kirsten,” they both said, almost in unison.

  “Don’t forget it.”

  “Never.”

  She swallowed hard, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  “I want you both,” she told them.

  “You’ve got us.”

  He held up his left hand, his new wedding band catching the light.

  “Inside me,” she said, her cheeks beginning to flush.

  Behind her, Houston groaned, and inside her, Kirsten could feel him stiffen. She turned her head to look at him.

  “Come on,” she whispered. “You and Jack, both at once.”

  “Not tonight,” Houston said, his voice low and raspy.

  “We have to work our way up to that,” Jack said.

  He kissed her neck, then her shoulder, then ran his tongue across her nipple, kneeling in front of her.

  Kirsten wondered what it would feel like, with both of them moving inside her. She knew they were right and she gripped the arms of the chair, her nails digging in.

  Jack pushed her thighs apart and quickly tounged her clit from side to side.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, and then Houston’s hand was on her hip.

  “Slow down,” he murmured in her ear. “I want you to cum so hard they hear you on the ground floor.”

  Jack licked harder and harder, and Kirsten moaned again, her toes curling. She tried to move faster, to give Houston the ride she desperately wanted to, but he held her down. Kirsten felt beads of sweat rolling down her neck, then Houston’s lips, sucking them off. A shiver went down her back at the sensation.

  She was so, so close, her whole body like a lit rocket, primed to go off.

  “Slower,” growled Houston.

  “I can’t,” Kirsten said. “Please, just let me fuck you, I need to—”

  She felt something else slide inside her, and Kirsten looked down in surprise to see Jack’s hand.

  He grinned up at her as a second finger joined the first, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

  Kirsten was speechless, and then Jack moved his fingers, just barely, and Kirsten felt a wave of pleasure break over her.

  She gasped. Houston’s hands on her hips rolled her back and forth, and she felt herself spin higher and higher.

  “How’s it feel to have both of us?” Jack asked.

  “Fuck yes,” Kirsten whispered.

  Then she came. She felt like she was in slow motion, a spark lighting a fire that roared through her.

  She screamed, mostly the word yes over and over as Houston held her hips down, buried deep inside her, and Jack moved his hand, just barely. The neighbors next door banged on the wall and the three of them ignored it.

  Just as she thought she had finished, a fresh wave broke over her, wracking her body again and again until she was sure she could never cum again.

  “I could watch that forever,” Jack said, standing up. He pulled her off of Houston and then sat in the chair, sliding her over him. Kirsten glanced quickly at his flaccid cock.

  “I can’t cum again,” she whispered. She wasn’t certain sh
e could ever cum again, since she felt like she’d spent a lifetime worth of orgasms.

  Jack laughed softly.

  “Me either,” he said, kissing her shoulder slowly. “I’m dead drunk and dead tired, but I still want to watch.”

  Houston leaned forward and kissed Jack over Kirsten’s shoulder, and as he did he entered her. Tired as she was, she arched her back anyway.

  It still felt good to have him inside her.

  Outside, the sky was just turning pink with the sunrise, and for a moment, Kirsten wondered what time it was.

  “This was the best night of my life,” Houston murmured into her ear.

  And then he came with a groan, pressing himself hard into her, pulling her hair just a little.

  “You feel so fucking right,” he whispered. Kirsten rested her forehead against Jack’s, and the three of them stayed there for a long moment.

  Finally, he pulled out and pulled Kirsten onto her feet, where he wrapped one arm around her, looking out the window, and kissed her on the top of the head.

  Then he pulled his condom off and collapsed on the bed, followed by Jack, throwing an arm across the other man, who grabbed his hand and kissed it.

  For a moment, Kirsten watched the two of them. She was still very, very drunk, but a drunken happiness was swirling through her brain.

  “C’mon,” said Houston.

  Then she hopped onto the bed between them, and within seconds, she was asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Kirsten

  Kirsten woke up to the sun in her eyes, and she threw an arm over her face, turning over.

  I’ve gotta shut those blinds, she thought for a moment.

  Then she sat bolt upright in the bed.

  I’m not in my bed, she realized. Her head pounded and everything seemed terrible and fuzzy, her whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat. I’m still drunk, too, she realized. And already hungover.

  A person moved in the bed, next to her, dead asleep.

  All at once, the entire night came back to her with crystal clarity: drinks, dinner, nightclub, more drinks, karaoke, more drinks, even more drinks, Elvis, the limousine.

  Then she’d had sex with both of them. Two wolf shifters.