Desired by the Pack: Part One: A BBW Paranormal Romance by Emma Storm Page B

pooled between her legs.
    “No claws or teeth?” She croaked.
    “I’m a tool-using animal.” He flashed a wicked smile and slid the tip of the knife under her left bra strap. One twist of his wrist and the fragile strap split. He dealt with the other and trailed the blunt back of the knife’s point across the full, quivering swells of her breasts.
    Deep down to her bones, she knew she was safe with him. Physically. Still, her pulse raced as he tucked the cool steel blade between her breasts. The thin, fragile satin gave and fell away, exposing her.
    Her insides clenched.
    Behind her, Cross rumbled approvingly, like he knew how hot that little show had gotten her. He ran his lips along her shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Oh, she liked that.”
    She would have no physical secrets with these men as lovers.
    Beck gathered her heavy breasts, pressed them together and lifted her nipples to his mouth. She watched, rapt, as he closed his lips around one stiff peak. A swipe of his velvet tongue, one strong, suckling pull, and she ground the back of her head into Cross’s chest.
    A loud moan escaped her throat. Cross’s cock bucked in response, reminding her of the other treat waiting for her.
    “Cross,” she gasped. The single syllable broke when Beck pinched her other nipple, as if punishing her for speaking another man’s name.
    “Tell me.” Cross scraped his teeth down the side of her throat. Goose flesh erupted all over.
    “Rub my clit. Put your fingers inside me. Goddess, anything.”
    Maybe she should have been ashamed of how fast she broke, but the words spilled out. Out of her control, just like the need coursing through her. Hotter and hotter, as if, between them, Beck and Cross were pouring gasoline on a fire.
    Cross stilled, big hands resting on her hips. He could have stripped her scrub pants off with a hook and a push but he didn’t.
    No, he moved over her pants and cupped her sex through her clothes. The pressure inside her gathered at her center, building too fast.
    “Hot and wet, even through your pants. No wonder I can smell your pussy.” He wedged a fingertip between her lower lips. The seam of her pants lodged against her clit. Cross rubbed back and forth, pushing her closer to the edge.
    At the same time, Beck dragged his mouth off her nipple, a slow, long retreat with scraping teeth and suctioning mouth. Sharp nip of pain, as his teeth glanced the excruciatingly sensitive tip, followed by a velvety, soothing lick around the tight bud.
    Whimpering, January yanked at Cross’s hair and rolled her hips, trying to create more satisfying friction between her legs. He indulged her wordless begging by slipping his hand under her clothes. His touch was soft but his fingertips were rough, and one little stroke was all she needed.  The bubble of tension popped, setting her free. She shrieked as she came, nails digging at the back of Cross’s neck. Cross held her through the wave but Beck…
    Beck stood back and watched her.
    He looked like something feral, corded muscle and bared teeth, shaggy dark hair falling across his glittering eyes. She could see the sharp points of his flat male nipples stabbing at his shirt, the rigid board of his abs, a line of golden skin at his waist, as if his body was suddenly too big for his clothes.
    Her breath hitched. “Beck?”
    His hands flexed at his sides, opening and closing into white-knuckled fists.
    “That ought to hold you for a minute.” Cross petted gently between her legs, then lifted his hands to her shoulders. “Let’s go, Jan. On your knees and thank the man for his generosity.”
    Those words from a human male’s mouth would have been a bitter pill she didn’t even try to swallow.
    Coming from Cross, the command went down sweet and dark like fine maple syrup. She licked her lips, enjoying the way Beck’s gaze tracked her tongue, and she disentangled her fingers from Cross’s hair.
    Cross pushed her forward and down, guiding her to kneel at Beck’s