Page 49 of Pack to the Wall

Just hearing those words on her lips, even if they were from a nearly insensate state, made every part of me tingle with pleasure.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “For whatever you need. Forever.”

She made another happy humming sound then settled and slept.

I huffed a soft laugh. If anyone had told me two days ago that I’d be soothing some woman, feeling all sappy and lovey-doveyfor her, I’d have ripped them a new one. That definitely hadn’t been me.

And the strange part was, I liked this new me better than the old one.

Now, I just had to help Jane survive so I could keep being this new me and not go mad with grief from losing her.

JANE

Things grew…fuzzy.

Every time I woke up, my room and the people around me seemed less and less solid and out of focus. I was feverish, I knew that much, and I had moments of lucidity, but more and more I just felt like a dizzy lump.

I could tell people apart by their voices. Tyson was gruff and gravelly. Colt was young and energetic. Bronn was smooth and silky and low. He came with food now and then. I drank whatever he put in front of me. Water was suddenly thebestthing I’d ever had, cool and refreshing against the oppressive heat roaring within me. There was broth and bread, but not much more. I began to crave meat. I’d never been one for red meat myself. I preferred chicken or turkey. But right now, if someone had hacked off a chunk of cow, I would’ve devoured it.

Along with my appetite and temperature, my emotions were all over the place as well. Strange fever dreams mixed with memories. I relived shooting Harley over and over, shaded with a dozen different emotions from fear to rage to joy. That last one was confusing and strange. In my dream, I’d laughed while I shot him over and over, giddy and ecstatic, then I woke from the dream queasy and unsettled.

Luckily, there were other, far more pleasant dreams. I relived my time with Colt that morning. That dream also played out in many different ways. Sometimes I played coy and demurred, others I took charge and straddled him, riding him like a stallion.

In other fantasies, Bronn woke me with a kiss or a caress, then undressed me in bed and loved me gently until I was a mess of wet, moaning bliss. Oddly for these ones, half the time he was a lion, and that didn’t seem to bother me at all.

Then there were my dreams about Tyson. If the others were steamy fantasies, then these were straight-up erotic brain-porn. We’d rip each other’s clothes off and he’d take me in all manner of positions, half of which were only possible in dreams, I was sure. But in every position, in every blistering encounter, we were savage and wild with each other. We bit and clawed, screamed and howled, rough-fucking, hair-fisting, mouths spewing filthy curses that would make a sailor blanch.

“Jane.” The voice was distant, but it was Tyson’s. It was odd, like he was whispering filth in one ear and calling me softly in the other. “Jane? You… you’re calling my name.”

“Tyson!” I moaned. In this dream, his rough hands dug into my hips. His thighs slammed into mine, his hips punishing my ass as he drove his savage cock into me from behind. I was aching for him, face down, clawing and tearing at the sheets as he ripped a brutal orgasm from me.

I let out a savage grunting sound then screamed, “Yes, fuck me, you monster!” And when I looked back, he was the half-wolf I’d seen, snarling down at me as he pumped into me relentlessly.

“Jane… you’re dreaming,” the half-wolf said, just a bit too clearly.

Oh yeah, I was!

“She’s dreaming of you, it seems,” said another voice, Bronn’s. Then a soft laugh. “Maybe you should get in there with her. Seems like she wants you.”

Oh, Tyson wasin thereso very deep, driving me toward yet another body-clenching orgasm.

“Yes!” I hissed. “More. Harder!”

“We need to get her clothes off,” Tyson said, exasperated. “It’s getting late and she can’t be dressed when she shifts. That would only complicate things.”

It seemed quite odd for the savage wolf-man behind me to say something like that. Wasn’t I already naked?

“Let me help,” Bronn said. Tyson lifted me until my back was to him, and there, naked in front of me, was sweet, broken Bronn. He was gentle, kissing and caressing softly as Tyson continued to ravage me from behind. Somehow, they were both inside me and it was magnificent, one soft and slow and sensuous, the other hard and rough and brutal.

“Jane, if you can hear me, try not to move too much.”

I wouldn’t move a muscle. Trapped between these two amazing men, I was more than happy.

Warm, rough hands slid under my shirt… I was wearing a shirt?

No, I was naked already.

But I was also wearing a shirt.

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