Page 32 of Meant for Them
Morgan
I'm so exhausted from the rush of adrenaline by the time Troy's knot deflates that I can't do anything besides collapse against the mattress. I feel ridiculous lying here all spread out, werewolf jizz leaking out of my body, my hair all plastered against my forehead and messed up.
Troy collapses next to me, throwing an arm across my stomach. He's no better off than I am. We can't even talk because nothing really encapsulates how incredible that was.
“Well done.”
I startle, because I was so wrapped up in Troy that I actually forgot there was somebody else in the room. My eyes fly open, finding Jake practically in a fetal position in the corner. He's not looking so good. “Oh my gods, are you okay? Are you sick?”
He shakes his head frantically. “Nope. Just... very, very,veryuncomfortably hard again. But don't worry, this is totally a me problem. Just trying to work up the nerve to make myself come again; I’m scared of my dick right now. Fuck. That’s not sexy, is it?”
Unfortunately for me, it actually is. I'm a little sore for sure, but why do I want to go again so badly?
Wiley walks in with a handful of washcloths, looking unsure about what exactly to do with them. He says something under his breath that seems very derogatory towards himself and then guides my thighs apart so he can clean me.
“You don't have to do that,” I protest, somewhat mortified and somewhat interested.
“We messed you up, we get to clean you up. You don't clean yourself. Not if we're here to do it for you.”
He tosses a washcloth to Troy, who is at least with it enough to wipe off my forehead before using the same washcloth on his junk, then they both toss the now-dirty laundry to the corner.
“This is crazy. I'm... wow. Is it normal to be this horny, should I be embarrassed?” Really, I should not want more dick already.
“You want to present yourself for me, mate?” Jake asks as he yanks his shirt and belt off simultaneously in one motion. Hot.
He flips me over onto my hands and knees so fast that I almost feel like I warped forward.
I look back over my shoulder to catch Jake's eye, making sure he's going to give me what I'm silently demanding. He groans at the sight of me spread open in such a way, completely vulgar for him.
“Gonna fuckin’ destroy this shit. Hurricane Jake coming in for landing.”
Oh. My. Gods.
I twist out of the way, so fucking confused at the ridiculous verbiage that just spewed from his mouth that I don’t pay attention to where my leg swings. Yeah, I end up kicking him in the dick. The weird thing though, is that it makes him come.
I have an ‘o’ face on, but it’s more like awhat the fuck was that‘o’ face as opposed to anoh fuck, yeah, face. Totally different things.
I’m on my back now as he shoots his load all over me, and no one in the room dares say a fucking word. I think we’re all second hand embarrassed for Jake.
I look around the room, envisioning exactly how much isolation surrounds them up here. “I’ve said this before, but I feel the need to reiterate it. You guys are uh, really pressed for company up here, huh?”
It’s at that point that Jake processes what just happened, because it took a minute for his body to work through the feel-good hormones from his accidental orgasm. He starts scurrying away, covering up his werewolf dick with his hands as if that will be enough to erase the last few moments.
I start crawling towards him to comfort him, grateful for the stack of washcloths still there for the taking. Once I’m not dripping everywhere, I carefully reach out to rub his back. “It’s fine Jake, it will get better.”
His face is so red that I feel bad for him, but I have to lean forward to hear him. “What was that?”
“He said that was the best orgasm he’s ever had,” Wiley says with a repressed laugh.
“Oh, fuck no, we are not making this a thing. Look, I’m sorry I…kicked you in the dick. Really. I think you’ve been misled thoughon the uh…whole…dirty talk thing. I uh…we should maybe get you some romance novels or something? I don’t even know how you all acquire goods way out here. You said it’s how far to Somerville?”
Jake snaps and then starts hysterically laughing, rolling onto his side to pull me with him while he flips his brothers off. “They gave me this fucking book a few years back, swore it was the way to learn to talk to women, but joke’s on me because now I’m realizing they never thought we’d actually meet a woman we could touch. They fucked me over, didn’t they? Believe it or not, that was one of the tamer phrases that book encouraged.”
I peer back at the brothers in question, who are stifling laughter themselves and covering their mouths up with their fists as they try to clear their throats. Completely guilty.
“I fear that was a gag gift. But hey, we can only go up from here, right?”
“We don’t fucking deserve you,” he says as he squashes me to his chest.
