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Leif didn’t have it in him to twist away from that tongue, or even find it disgusting. It was Ragnar’s rough, capable hands that unlaced his trousers and pulled his cock free; that gave it a few strong, dry pumps, the strokes quickly slicked from the way he was leaking at the tip.
The girl’s fingers were cooler, slimmer, but her mouth, as she took him inside, was all heat and wetness and relief.
He kept his eyes shut and tipped his head back, too overcome to participate.
Brigitte took him down to the root straight off, no preamble, a professional level of skill, and she fell into a quick, sucking rhythm, bobbing over him, holding him steady at the base with cool, sure hands.
Ragnar pushed up Leif’s tunic and scratched over his bare stomach, where the muscles were clenched tight; played with the hair below his navel. Like the lick, it felt affectionate.
“There you go,” he murmured. “Like that, yeah. Oh, you needed this, lad. Yeah. Like that.”
In that moment, Leif wasn’t anyone’s alpha; was a wolf shaking and internally screaming and falling apart. Swamped with sensation, hungry and happy and wanting even more.
Coming was like being tackled off a horse and landing hard on the frozen ground, all the breath punched out of his lungs.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ragnar said, chuckling. “Gods. Look at that. Make a mess of her.”
Pack. Mine. Those were his first conscious thoughts. The next was that he was an alpha who’d allowed his subordinate too much headway. The next was that Ragnar was still scratching over his belly, and he didn’t want him to stop anytime soon.
Pack. Mine. Brother. Mate.
The last one jerked his head upright on a gasp. He opened his eyes and blinked the stars from them.
He’d come, and come mightily, pleasure surging through him in ripples. But he didn’t feel spent, the way he normally would have. If anything, he felt rejuvenated, and like he could go again – like heneededto go again, cock throbbing and sensitive, but still hard.
A slurping sound captured his attention, and he glanced down to where Brigitte still knelt between his legs.
She must have pulled off at the last second, and he’d painted her chest, her neck, her face in spend. It gummed her lashes and trickled down her throat; a white pearl beaded and dripped off one nipple.
“Gods,” he muttered. He’d never done anything like that before. He wanted to feel embarrassed, but his wolf was all chest-out pride over his performance, over the idea of having marked someone in that way.
As if sensing his thoughts, Ragnar chuckled, and his hand shifted higher beneath his tunic, scratching up over his pectorals, pulling playfully at his chest hair. “Nice little feature, isn’t it?” he asked, like Brigitte wasn’t still there, looking up at them and licking spend off her fingers. “It won’t be like it was before.” Ragnar pinched his nipple hard. “You’remorethan that, now.”
He was.
He’d worried he might shred this poor girl…but the wolf was savvy enough to know prey fromprey. He was in no danger, he knew then, firmly, of killing her. He just wanted to fuck until he couldn’t see straight anymore.
He leaned forward, and caught her chin between thumb and forefinger, rewarded by the widening of her eyes. “Get up,” he ordered, voice steady now. “On the table.”
She bit her lip, and a shiver moved through her; he could smell her eagerness, the way she got wetter between her legs.
Leif released her – she stood – and turned to regard Ragnar, grinning at him, eyes blown, radiating heat and excitement. “You. Be good.”
He whined.
Leif stood, hand going to his spit-slick cock, stroking it. The girl was perched on the edge of the table, wiggling in her eagerness.
“No,” he said. “Turn around, hands down flat.”
Her eyes widened again, but she turned readily enough, braced her hands on the table, and presented him with her backside.
Leif bunched up her dress, hiked it over her ass, and spared only the briefest touch between her legs to find her sopping entrance. Then he spread her lips, lined himself up, and thrust inside on one strong push.
“Gods,” Ragnar swore, with feeling, the same moment Brigitte let out a sharp, breathy gasp of shock.
Leif pressed in until his hips were flush with her ass, smooth and plush; until his whole length was gripped in that tight, wet heat, squeezing him tight in her surprise.
This was what he’d needed. Base pleasure, a simple fulfilment of natural desire.
