Page 106 of The Wolf in My Tavern

The sound of footsteps comes toward us.

Callum growls.

“What?” Gray asks.

I hear a thunk as Gray kicks off his boots, followed by a clank that I think is his belt, which makes my entire body come alive with molten heat. Does he intend to join us?

A rustle of fabric follows as I stare up at Callum, trying to judge his mood. My heart is near beating out of my chest, and I think I might spontaneously climax from the thought of Gray joining us… of being between them like I was at the table downstairs, only closer, on a bed, with no clothes on… fully naked.

“If you think I’m going to sleep on the floor, you’ve got another think coming, whelp.”

Callum growls again, lower deeper, and, Goddess help me, my pussy floods with slick.

Callum’s nostrils flare. Does he… can he tell?

I think that he can.

“You’re going to need to learn to share,” Gray continues. “For I’m going nowhere. If I need to battle you every fucking night, then I will.”

Callum ignores his final taunt, and with a determined glint in his eyes, he lowers his head.

A moan escapes me as his mouth covers mine, and his tongue slips between my lips. I cling to him, fisting his hair and moaning with pleasure. His hand rests on my breast, squeezing it roughly before his thumb brushes back and forth across my nipple. I arch up into him. His lips trail kisses over my jaw and down my throat, where he nips against my sensitive skin, growling.

I don’t know what he’s growling at, but it makes everything inside me clench and flutter with delight.

“You’re going to need to undress the lass before you can rut her,” Gray says, sounding closer than before. “Although I agree with you. That is a saucy little outfit. Though it pisses me off that it belonged to another, I very much like the way it clings like a second skin to her pert tits.”

Callum’s next growl has a distinct note of approval.

The shirt is too big for me, and he easily drags it over one shoulder to expose my breasts.

His hot lips enclose my nipple before he sucks half the plump flesh into his mouth. Pleasure pools low in my belly, ejecting the air from my lungs and a wanton moan from my lips.

Gray

I have shared women before, just as I have enjoyed the company of more than one lass. Shifters are gregarious by human standards. We are not troubled by human etiquette, taking pleasure vigorously and wherever we will. Yet I would be lying to myself if I pretended this was not different.

It feels different.

Callum is not a pack mate, nor do I know him well beyond we have glared at one another across the tavern for the last few months—and what I have learned about him in the short time we spent together aboard the ship.

He is struggling with the changes, of which there are many. He is no longer a beta claiming a woman as his wife, but a shifter who carries royal blood and who must share his mate. He has handled these transitions well—better than most would, I think. Were he a shifter of a rival pack, he would more likely have left me bloody as he asserted his claim.

Callum does not know our ways. At heart, he is still a blacksmith’s lad whose father was part of the rebellion and, for whatever reason, left his home with his wife—a shifter with royal blood—and traveled all the way to Bleakness. Their story is undoubtedly complex, and I can only guess their reasons.

Despite his growling, which to an outsider might appear aggressive, Callum’s tone carries very little aggression. I have been cruel to him and sought to assert my place with brutality lest he see it as weakness.

My actions were unwarranted against a man ignorant of our ways. I want to find fault in him and see his ways as weak, but I know they are not. He is simply different from me, coming from a different place and molded by his own life experiences. He is also younger than me. I have a good ten years on him, at my reckoning. Yet I sense already that he has a maturity that transcends mere years.

I can admit, too, that I enjoy watching him suck on her tit and making her moan and writhe. Our mutual love for Ada makes watching him like watching an extension of myself. His hand is already slipping down her pants and making her body arch.

I dare to put my knee on the side of the bed. He growls. While his focus appears to be on Ada, he is very aware of me and what I seek to do.

He does not shove me off nor snatch her away and take her to the corner as he did when he was in his beast form on the ship. Instead, he carries on with what he is doing, pleasuring her in front of me, showing me, just as I showed him, that he can make her body sing.

She is an omega between two dominant alphas. Her body would sing with very little provocation or help, but it is also clear that he has learned her body and what she likes.

My other knee hits the bed, and I slide in beside her. His growl rumbles, and his lips seek new ground and her unclaimed breast. The buttons pop on her shirt, giving him access to suckle her left tit, while her right tit is there, pump, quivering, and a little red and wet from where his mouth has been.

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