Twin Alphas: Claimed (A BBW Werewolf Romance) (10 page)

              “We’ve got to at least introduce you to our mother, or she’ll seriously kill us,” Clayton said to Amelia as he and Holt pulled on fresh clothing that they’d stored in their truck.

              They climbed in the truck and drove back down the dirt road.

              “Are you sure we have time?” Amelia asked. “Those security guards at the festival weren’t too happy to see us go.”

              “We’ll eat a quick lunch and then go. She’ll understand,” Clayton said.

              “Genius suggestion on the security cameras,” Holt added. “We’ll have to do that for real, obviously. Should have done that a long time ago.”

              “Thanks, I have my moments,” she said. She wanted to ask him how he’d known what she was thinking, but she was afraid she should already know the answer and she didn’t want to show her ignorance.

              Their farm house was a Colonial style building with blue clapboard siding.  She could not get over how similar their universe was to hers in so many ways.

              When they pulled up in front of the house, their mother was waiting for them outside. She was a cheerful, round-faced woman with springy brown curls. She wore stretch pants and an apron that was covered with flour.

              “Welcome, welcome!” she waved happily at them. “I’m Jennifer, and these are my big overgrown babies.”

              “Mom!” Clayton groaned, and Amelia barely stifled a laugh. He was blushing.

              “So,” Jennifer continued, glancing at the love bites on Amelia’s neck and arms, “I see my boys had a successful festival.”

              Now it was Amelia’s turn to blush.

              She followed them inside the house, and was led into a huge dining room.  The table was set for twenty, but could have easily have held thirty or forty more.  A group of werewolves were in there, along with women and children, some of whom turned into cubs and chased each other between the adults’ legs.  There were iron chandeliers hanging from the ceiling at intervals, and family portraits on the walls.

              “How do you do it?” Amelia marveled. “Are there this many people here every day?”

              “Our pack is pretty close,” Jennifer said happily. “We like to eat our meals together.”

              Clayton and Holt exchanged high fives with several werewolf men who gave her appreciative glances.

              Some of the werewolves started crowding around her, openly checking out the love bites on her arms and neck.

              “Enough! There will be plenty of time for that after the festival!” Jennifer called out. “They need to eat up quick and get back! Everyone sit down, and the first person who tries to eat before I say grace gets smacked on the nose!”

              Everyone scrambled back to their seats. She settled down in between Clayton and Holt, and tucked in to a delicious lunch of prime rib, roast corn, and vegetables. She was ravenous.

              As she ate, she glanced around the room and at the end of the table, she saw a man who looked vaguely familiar. She couldn’t think why. He was a redhead, big and burly, freckled, werewolf…there was no way she could know him. Who was he?

              After lunch, one of the women showed her to the restrooms.   She groaned at the sight of herself in the mirror.  Rumpled hair, faint circles under her eyes…She really needed to get back to the cabin and take a nice long, hot shower.

              She saw the redheaded man coming out of one of the other restrooms – and drew in her breath.

              “Amelia?” he said, in a low voice.

              “William,” she said, her eyes wide. She hadn’t seen him in twenty years…since he’d accidentally stumbled through the sparkling blue spot on their property, the one that only she and her sister could see.

              “What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, urgent voice.

              “It’s a really long story,” she said.

              “Hey, you guys know each other?” Holt walked up. “We met at the Claiming Festival. She’s ours,” he added proudly.

              William’s eyes widened at that. She could only pray that he wouldn’t tell Holt and Clayton about their connection. She and William had a history, and he owed her his life. Would that be enough, though?

              “We have plenty of time to catch up later,” she said desperately. Now was not the time for questions. “We should get back to the festival, shouldn’t we?”

              Holt gave her an odd look, but he nodded.

              “We’ll see you later, than,” he said to William, and they headed out to the pickup truck. Jennifer hugged her as she was about to leave.

              “I can’t wait to show you all over the farm! You’re going to love it here!” she gushed.

              “I’m sure I will,” Amelia said, thinking to herself,
I really hate myself right now
.

              She followed Clayton and Holt to the truck, and Holt held open the door for her.

              “What happened to your ankle?” she asked Clayton, who had a slight twinge in his right ankle.

              “Turned it stepping in a gopher hole a few minutes ago,” he said. “It’s already healing.”

              Wait. How did she know that he had a twinge in his ankle? She’d literally felt it as if it were her own pain.

              She couldn’t feel it now, though.

              Panic clutched at her chest. She could feel what they felt. Sometimes she could hear their thoughts. Could they do the same? Could they read her mind? A couple of times it had seemed as if they could, but not always.

              She’d have to assume that they couldn’t read everything she was thinking, or she’d be in deep, deep trouble.

              It was late afternoon when they got back, and she rushed to the cabin.

              She needed to take a nice hot bath and then sneak off.  What if, the longer she spent time with the two Alphas, the more they could read her mind?

              Sitting in the deep tub with water swirling around her, she tried to think about how, exactly, she would sneak off and leave the two behind when they seemed intent on spending every waking – and sleeping - moment with her.

              A rap on the bathroom door startled her.

              “Hey, it’s me,” Clayton called out. “And Holt.  Got room for two more?”

              Without waiting for an answer, Clayton opened the door, and he and Holt stepped in. They were stark naked. They were clearly both very happy to see her.

              Clayton’s cock bobbed against his belly and he smiled as he sauntered into the room, followed by an equally erect Holt, who looked pleased with himself too. Despite knowing she was deceiving them, knowing she would be leaving them soon, her heart gave a strange little bump. Holt’s smile broadened into a grin, as though he had sensed her little spasm of pleasure at seeing them. Of course, she reflected, he probably had. That was one of the reasons it was so important for her to get back to Cedar Falls as soon as possible and try to forget she had ever met these stunning, intoxicating Alphas. She pushed down the pain she felt trying to rise inside her at the thought, worried that Holt might feel it too and know something was wrong. She couldn’t afford for him to guess her plans…and she couldn’t bear for anything to spoil the last few hours she would have in their company.

              Holt came to perch on the rim of the tub near her head, giving a little yelp as the cold porcelain touched his buttock. Amelia laughed and he splashed her playfully, growling, “Minx…”

              Clayton positioned himself at the other end of the tub, where he lifted her soapy foot from the water and started to massage it with his fingers, pressing deep, soothing circles into the arch and making her moan blissfully.  She let her eyes drift closed.

              She had already washed and rinsed her hair, but Holt ran his fingers into the damp tresses, massaging her scalp and teasing another low, contented sound from her.

She slipped deeper into the water as Clayton pulled her foot into his lap. He tweaked each of her toes in turn, like little piggies, and she gave a contented smile and flexed her foot against his erection. He gave a startled groan and she worked her foot against his cock, feeling a frisson of sensation in her pussy when he grasped her foot in both hands and worked his hips against it.

Amelia’s mouth went dry and she continued to flex the arch of her foot against his erection as she ran her hand over her breast and pinched her nipple. She gasped, trembled, and almost slipped down in the water, catching herself and sending another wave of suds washing over the side of the tub. There was a squeak of porcelain and another minor tsunami and Holt slipped into the tub behind her, kneeling with his legs on either side of her ass so he could support her and hold her steady.

She rested her head against his shoulder and turned her face toward him and he kissed her. The kiss was confident and commanding, but he explored her mouth as though she was something unique and unknown, a sensation to be savored. “I love the way you taste,” he murmured against her mouth, and her heart gave that funny little bump again.

Safe in Holt’s arms, she allowed her hand to slide down her body, briefly twisting her fingers in the dark curls of her mound before she slipped her fingers between the lips of her pussy, which was hot and slippery with arousal. She should have felt self-conscious touching herself like this in front of Clayton and Holt, but she didn’t.  She felt powerful and sexy, and incredibly wanted. She glanced at Clayton to see him watching her with an expression of stunned lust. His pupils had blown so wide that those gorgeous golden-brown eyes looked dark and half-drugged.

She rubbed slow circles around her clitoris, feeling a throbbing need starting to rise within her as soon as she touched herself. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes closed, giving herself over to the sensation. She flexed her hips, yearning for the feeling of one of these men – her men – thrusting into her with his cock, filling the aching void that seemed to grow inside her with every flick of her fingers over the sensitive nub.

Holt caressed her full breasts, kneading them in his palms, pressing kisses to the place he had bitten her throat and setting up a thrilling pleasure-pain. She gave small, effortful gasps of pleasure as she worked two fingers inside herself. She couldn’t bear the grasping, yearning need to be filled, to be fucked.

As if he could feel the strength of her desire – and maybe he could – Clayton splashed into the tub and worked his way up her body. The suds made them both slippery, and it was clumsy, but she wrapped her arms around his soap-slick shoulders as he pushed inside her. It was urgent, desperate, and she welcomed it, just as she welcomed the strength of Holt’s arms holding her steady so Clayton could pound into her with a ferocious hunger that felt nearly bruising.

She clung to him, unable to do anything more than squeeze her thighs around his hips as he thrust into her again and again, almost savage in his passion. Then the ache turned into a piercing pleasure that twisted through her, and she cried out again and again as her pussy clutched greedily at his cock. The clenching spasms dragged him over the edge with her and he gave one last desperate, violent thrust before he groaned his release in a tone so tortured it sounded as if he was dying.

He collapsed against her, panting, and she clung to him. She was trembling so hard she wasn’t sure she could have supported herself. But through it all, Holt held them steady, his intuitive, ever-present support as intoxicating in its own way as the wildness of Clayton’s passion.

The bathwater was almost cold by the time she found the strength to clamber from the tub, her legs trembling, her pussy pleasantly sore. Clayton barely looked tired, though his eyes were half-lidded and dreamy.  He gazed at her with a possessiveness that made her heart clench.

Holt swept her into his arms. She started to protest, then caught herself.  She was a bigger girl, but…

No. She was a bigger girl
and
they liked that.

They thought she was beautiful. They wanted her. There was no mistaking the desire she’d seen on their faces or the responses she’d felt from their bodies. And Holt carried her easily in his strong arms, holding her against his muscular chest as if she was something precious and breakable. She relaxed into his embrace, snuggling against him. She briefly opened her eyes and glanced at Clayton, who gave her a tender smile and reached out to touch her damp hair.

Holt deposited her on the bed and she scooted back against the pillows, watching them as they crawled over the counterpane toward her with predatory desire in their eyes.

Holt lay down beside her and, feeling bold, she straddled him. He was hard and huge, and she slid against him, letting the slick juices of her pussy lubricate him. He grasped her hips, fingers digging into the plump flesh. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted.