Lords of the Hill: BBW Werewolf Erotica (Smut-Shorties Book 3) Read Free

against him. Something long and thick pressed against her ass. Oh my word, was that his cock… It was a damn flagpole in his pants.
    She bit her lip, then moaned again, arching her back when Verne’s hand closed over her breast under her jacket. He’d undone the buttons without her noticing. Clever wolf.
    “You like that, huh? Being touched by the two of us,” Darrick murmured, his hands not idle either. He pulled her jacket open, and yanked her top away from her waistband, his fingertips flirting with the soft skin. She tried to bat them away with her free hand, self-conscious of her rounded belly, but he caught her wrist. Pinned between the two of them, unable to defend herself.
    His access unfettered now, Darrick dipped strong fingers under her waistband and groaned. “Such soft skin. Pretty. Is it all like this?”
    She gasped as Verne nipped the fleshy part of her earlobe, sending thrills shooting through her. Arousal and need swirled through her body, making her pussy ache. Liquid heat slipped from her, dampening her panties. The swift intake of breath from both men let her know they’d picked up the scent of her arousal and her cheeks burnt.
    “Oh yeah,” Verne rasped, strong fingers beneath her chin to turn her head so she had to look at him. “She likes this. She likes this a lot.”

Chapter Three
     
    Hell yeah , she liked it. It was all her Christmas and birthday wishes come true in one go with a huge dollop of sex-deprived fantasy. She still couldn’t believe it was happening. Mind you, it was possible, probable even, that she’d slipped while photographing the manor and hit her head on a rock. Yes, that had to be it. She was lying unconscious somewhere in the dark, and her mind had created this fantasy to keep her occupied until help arrived.
    That decided, she relaxed into their hold, looking up at Verne. This was a dream, so she might as well enjoy it. He smiled, the expression softening the harsh, dark features of his face as he leaned in to kiss her.
    She’d been expecting a hard kiss. Dominant. Demanding. Instead his lips touched hers in the softest brush. A caress so soft she chased him to get more of it. He smiled, lips curving against hers and gave her what she wanted. Hand in her nape he held her head still and plundered her lips.
    She gasped as he dominated the kiss, parting her lips and driving his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. Unlike past boyfriends who’d used their tongues like a weapon, stabbing deep, or worse still, swirling the damn thing around until she felt like she was on a spin cycle, Verne teased and caressed. Tempted her to join the erotic dance with him.
    Darrick wasn’t idle. His lips whispered over the side of her neck and his hand grew bolder. With a deft move, he popped the buttons on her jeans one by one. She’d lost weight, so the denim was a little large and slid from her hips as soon as the tension holding them up was released. He rumbled his approval close to her ear while his teeth scraped her skin, making her moan.
    Darrick’s large hand followed her jeans, found the lacy edge of her panties and stopped to trace along it. Her pussy ached, tendrils of need spiraling out through her limbs. Her clit pulsed, just begging for his touch. She rocked her hips against his hand, trying to get him to where she needed him.
    He nipped her neck again in response, and she almost went into meltdown there and then. She needed this, needed them. Needed more. Her back arched and her head dropped back on Darrick’s shoulder. He held her with ease, his strength thrilling her. His fingertips slid under the satin of her panties at the same time Verne shoved her t-shirt up over her bust.
    “Fucking hell… Those are pretty,” he groaned, his hands on her tits.
    She whimpered at the dual assault. It took Verne less than a second to slide his fingers in the cups of her bra and tuck them away under the curve of her breasts. Her nipples popped free from their confinement.