Текст книги "Cry wolf"

Автор книги: Jay Ellison

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which he almost never did. Hannah said he was definitely off his game as she sat at the end of the bar and

nursed a rum and coke. Kevin was apt to agree; he just wanted to go home and climb into bed. Maybe a

good sleep would clear his head, help him think clearly. He kept thinking about the warning that Fenrir

had sent him, because that’s exactly what it was.

A part of him thought about confiding in Roman. Roman was their leader, their alpha. During his time in

the mountains, Kevin had learned much about the werewolf lifestyle, and Roman said the alpha was

responsible for keeping the peace. He settled disputes among the pack members and generally acted as

judge and jury—sometimes even executioner, if a crime warranted it.

But Kevin quickly dismissed the idea. He didn’t need Roman fighting his battles for him. If what Roman

was saying about Kevin being a Pedigree was true, then Kevin was stronger than Fenrir, even if he was

more inexperienced. The last thing he needed was Fenrir knowing that Kevin was afraid of him. If it came

down to a confrontation between himself and Fenrir, Kevin would simply need to man up.

“Sugar, would you mind closing up?” Jolene asked at a quarter to two in the morning. “That drive up to

the Poconos this morning left me plum tuckered out. I need some beauty sleep!”

Kevin grinned, amused by how Jolene could turn her sweet, Southern-fried dialect on and off, depending

on whether she needed a favor or not. Not that he minded, since he owed her one for letting Fenrir deface

her cabin. “No problem. Have a good night!”

“You too!” she said with a wave before exiting the employee’s door in the back.

Kevin finished disinfecting the bar, turning on the security system, and switched off the lights. As his last

act of the night, he gathered up the garbage, carrying two huge bags out with him through the same exit that

Jolene had used. After locking up, he usually dropped off the night’s trash before slipping into his car

parked behind the big blue Dumpster in the back. But as he approached it, he caught a scent on the air

different from the usual scents of rotting garbage and city pollution.

The Dumpster loomed ahead. The smell was coming from it—a disturbing, decaying, meaty scent. Kevin

stopped and looked at it, the bags on the ground at his feet. His eyes were keen, even in the dark. He

glanced right and left, but there was no one there in the parking lot but him. “Shit,” he hissed under his

breath. He dreaded what he would find inside.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the lid on the Dumpster and flung it open.

The crumpled body of a man lay inside, just as he had suspected, a mangled lump on top of yesterday’s

trash. His face was raked with claws, his sightless eyes started up at Kevin, his mouth open in a scream

he never had a chance to utter. His throat had been bitten out, and flies crawled busily over the wound.

Dropping the lid, Kevin stepped back, gagging. That’s when he noticed the blood painting the lid of the

Dumpster. A single word:

TYR.

***

Chapter Fifteen

Kevin stayed well behind the yellow police tape while the Forensics Team removed the body from the

Dumpster and loaded it onto a gurney to be shipped to the coroner’s office. A police officer—the fifth in

just under an hour—approached him with a pen and pad and Kevin sighed with fatigue and pinched the

bridge of his nose.

“Mr. Sullivan, can you give me a detailed account of what happened here?”

Biting back the desire to say something snarky, Kevin started retelling his story about how he came out

here to dump the day’s garbage only to find the dead man in the Dumpster. He stuck to the facts and

avoided any mention of the name scrawled across the Dumpster lid in the dead man’s blood. Before

calling the police, Kevin had taken a washcloth and the bleach solution he used on the bar top to it,

removing any evidence of its existence. He knew if Jolene saw it, she would automatically connect it to

the cabin, and then there would be more questions, more police. They might probe too far, find out too

many things.

Fenrir frightened him. That was true enough. But he knew he had to protect his pack, his family. The

humans couldn’t know anything. It was another of the ordinances of the pack. And it was better this way.

“Does your employer have any enemies that you’re aware of?” the cop said.

“None. Well, her ex. But he wouldn’t do this.” There was no point in covering up the fact that Jolene and

her ex weren’t on the best of terms; everyone knew that already.

The cop nodded and asked for Jolene’s ex-husband’s name. “We’ll check him out, but it’s doubtful

anyone human is involved in this,” the cop said as he scribbled away.

Kevin felt his heart jump into his throat. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you get a look at the guy? Looks like some animal got at him, tore him up pretty bad—maybe

some pit bulls. We’re aware of a few dog rings around here. Of course, that doesn’t explain how he got in

your Dumpster.” The cop examined him like Kevin had something to do with it.

Kevin did his best not to look guilty. Let the cops pursue the dog angle, he thought. If they started chasing

a dog ring, they wouldn’t give a single thought to the murderer being anything but human. “I have no idea

why he’s here,” Kevin sighed wearily, watching the Forensics Team loading the body into the back of the

coroner’s van. He knew he was paper-white because he was still in shock, and he took pains not to do

anything so stupid as to suggest a scenario. He could easily say “Maybe he ran afoul of one of the rings,

owed someone money. There are a lot of bad people in this part of town.” But he knew he’d just come off

as desperate…and possibly guilty.

The cop looked him over and he could see him mentally dismissing Kevin as young, bewildered, and

painfully average. The man in the Dumpster was pretty large, and Kevin didn’t exactly look like a

brawler. He was about to ask the cop if they were done here and if he could go home when Jolene pulled

up in her big, pink Cadillac and jumped out, rushing over to them.

“Jesus Christ, Sugar, are you all right?” she cried as she hugged him. Her clothes were wrinkled and her

hair awry. She looked like she’d rolled out of bed and into her clothes, then rushed downtown, which she

probably had.

“Yeah, Jo, I’m fine. Really.” Kevin made a show of rubbing his eyes. “Just tired.”

The police started clustering around Jolene, hitting her with the same barrage of questions they’d been

asking him for the past hour. Kevin looked up at the officer still standing over him. “Look, I told you guys

everything I know, and it’s almost four in the morning. Any chance I can go home and get some sleep? I

have to work tomorrow.”

“We need you to come downtown and file an official report.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow morning? I’ve been up going on eighteen hours now. I don’t think I can sign

my name straight at the moment.”

The cop nodded. “We’ll need you first thing.”

Kevin headed for his car. Like he’d be able to sleep after this. Yeah, sure.

***

Chapter Sixteen

Jolene called him at noon the following day to tell him the club would be closed until the cops and

coroner sorted things out. A day or two, at least, she said. She wasn’t happy about it, and neither was

Kevin—he liked work, liked having a routine—but she told him to make the best of his impromptu

vacation. She said he should relax, go visit his boyfriend.

“They have any leads?” Kevin muttered into the cell he’d pulled under the covers with him. His heart was

banging around his chest and he hated the idea of the police sniffing around his workplace. What if

Roman, or one of the pack, showed up? What if the police somehow fingered Fenrir? If the man was

linked to the murder, would he take the whole pack down with him?

“They think it might be gang-related, or something to do with a dog ring.” She let out her shaky breath in a

sigh. “They found hairs on the dead guy. And get this, they were wolf hairs. They think there may be a dog

ring using wolves in the city.”

Shit. “That sounds so weird,” Kevin said, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

“This is New York, sugar. I’ve come to expect the weird in this town.”

Kevin told her to keep him updated, hung up, and got out of bed for a very hot shower. After going

downtown to the police station to fill out the necessary paperwork, he stopped to get two giant bacon

cheeseburgers for lunch, then drove out to Roman’s mansion. A scrawled warning was one thing, a dead

body—especially if it endangered the pack—another. He was trembling, terrified this all would go south

if he didn’t talk to Roman.

One of Roman’s boys let him into the mansion. The guy, a lean, dark-haired model named Jason, was

manning the lobby and watching a daytime soap. “Roman’s waiting for you on the roof,” he said.

“How does Roman know I’d be here?”

Jason guffawed. “Roman knows everything that goes on in this town.”

Throwing off an uncomfortable shiver, Kevin took the elevator to the rooftop gardens. It was a clear and

balmy day, with just enough humidity to hint at the oncoming dog days of summer in the city. Half of the

roof was dedicated to an Olympic-sized, in-ground swimming pool full of crystal clear water. Most of the

pack were skinny-dipping, shouting and dunking each other and throwing a beach ball around. The other

half of the roof was dedicated to the garden—rose bushes, exotic fruit trees, orchids, shrubbery, and giant

flowering bushes growing in urns. Roman said that Anya was an avid botanist and liked to bring a little of

the wild to their city home.

Roman and Anya were sitting in the garden around a glass patio table, drinking tea and discussing the

newspaper they had divided between them. They were both dressed casually—Roman in a smoking jacket

and slacks, and Anya in a long, silky, Greco-inspired gown. Roman had braided his hair back and it

swished against his back as he discussed something about their financial holdings with his pack mate.

Fenrir was nowhere to be found, and that made Kevin feel uneasy as he made his way toward them. Anya

spotted him as he approached, stood up and gave Kevin a keen look. “I think I’ll go prepare for the party

tonight and leave you two boys alone.”

When she was gone, Roman indicated the newly vacated seat. “Sit, Golden Eyes. Take tea with me.”

“I’m not here to socialize,” he told the pack alpha. He should be pissed with Roman for letting this

happen, he knew, but just the sight of their gorgeous, debonair leader made his heart thud at a ferocious

rate in his chest and his dick harden in his jeans. His teeth were suddenly much sharper in his mouth. He

clenched his fists at his sides, trying to throw off the sudden desire to get down on his knees and rub

himself against his alpha’s side. He wanted to present himself to Roman, let the man ride him like a trick

circus horse. He put it out of his mind. “I’m here to talk about the murder. I’m pretty sure you know what I

mean.”

At least Roman didn’t pretend to not know what Kevin was talking about. He did indicate the paper in his

hands. “They identified the victim. Apparently, he was a pedophile and known sex offender. I would

hardly say what happened to him was murder…more like garbage pickup.” He wrinkled his nose

disdainfully, baring longer-than-normal canines. “If you ask me, the world is a much better place without

such men in it.”

“I don’t care who he was. I only care where he was killed—which was practically on my doorstep!”

Kevin took a deep breath to keep from losing his temper. “Aren’t you at all concerned that the police

found wolf hairs on the victim?”

Roman, who was wearing a pair of shades, slid them down his nose so he could better observe Kevin

overtop them. They looked more wolf than man. “No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We have humans in high places in the police and government to cover our indiscretions. Even as we

speak, the police are investigating an exotic dog-fighting ring in connection with the murder. By next

week, they’ll have closed the case file.”

Kevin shook his head in fury. “I can’t believe this. So whoever did this just walks, then?”

“You believe my pack is somehow responsible.”

“Wolf hairs were found on the victim,” Kevin said. “That’s not a coincidence, Roman.”

“Orphans frequently pass in and out of my territory. It could be any number of werewolves who are

responsible. I assure you, the matter will be investigated.”

“And then?”

Roman pressed his lips together. “And then I’ll take steps to rectify it, if necessary.”

Kevin shook his head. “It wasn’t an Orphan. It was Fenrir. He attacked me.”

Roman paused like a switch had been hit. He looked at Kevin long and hard.

“You didn’t know.”

Roman set the paper neatly aside. “When exactly did this…attack occur?”

“In the mountains, during our hunt.” Kevin took a deep breath and let it out. “And there’s more. He’s left

me messages. Threats.”

“Perhaps you’re mistaken.”

“I know it was him, Roman. He wants me out of the pack.”

It was difficult to read Roman’s expression. He was old, that much was obvious, and a master of control.

His face revealed nothing. “I decide who joins our pack and who doesn’t. I’ve decided that you’re in and

you are.”

“I think Fenrir has a different opinion, Roman. I think he’s more dangerous than you think.”

Roman steepled his fingers together. “If Fenrir—or anyone else—is deliberately threatening our cover in

this city, I, as alpha, shall deal with him.”

“You better deal with him. Or I might have to.”

Roman narrowed his wolf eyes. “What exactly are you implying?”

Kevin thought about that. He reminded himself that the truth was usually the best route to take. “I’m not

sure, exactly. Believe me, I don’t mean him, or you, any harm. I want to be here. I want to be one of the

pack. But, Roman, I’m not going to take this lying down. You either reign in your lieutenant or there’s

going to be a problem.”

“You realize I can construe that as a threat.”

“I don’t care how you construe it, just as long as you talk to him…before I do.”

A smile suddenly curled across Roman’s lips. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you talk like a

Pedigree.” He stood up and offered Kevin his hand. “We’re planning a celebration tonight in your honor,

a little party that Anya wants to throw to welcome you into the fold. Stay with me today. I want to be with

you. Later you may enjoy the bounty of being one of the pack.”

Despite everything, Kevin felt a rush of desire. His traitorous cock twitched in his pants, and when

Roman kissed him he felt himself melting against the other man. Roman cupped the front of him,

massaging him through his jeans with a wise and wicked smirk. He knew. He knew how badly Kevin

wanted in. He knew how much he wanted Roman. Against his better judgment, Kevin took his alpha’s

hand.

***

Chapter Seventeen

Kevin woke alone in Roman’s bed. He felt sore, well-used, and wonderful. They’d spent considerable

time licking and biting each other before Roman invited Kevin to mount him from behind. Kevin had

considered it a privilege. Afterward, they’d switched and Roman had ridden him hard to climax. Their

mating had been brief, rough and satisfying. Kevin couldn’t imagine ever sleeping with a human being

again.

He turned over on the rumpled sheets and stretched in the darkness. The sheets smelled like wolf and sex.

He scented some of the other pack members as well, but that didn’t bother him so much. He liked the

smell of pack. It felt safe. It felt like home.

Roman had explained that werewolves, unlike real wolves, were not naturally monogamous creatures.

The drive to mate was too strong. Even if he and Roman were to become alpha mates at some point in the

future, they would not be what human would call “exclusive”. They would want—would need—an open

relationship. Sex cemented the relationship between an alpha and the wolves in his charge.

At first, Kevin expected the idea to offend the human in him, but he quickly found it didn’t really bother

him, and when he thought about it, the long string of emotionally-detached relationships he’d had fit the

werewolf lifestyle very well. Underneath it all, he’d never been a monogamous type of guy. He liked

being with Roman, but he also liked mating with the other werewolves, and the idea of Roman mating

with them even turned him on.

He sniffed the pillow, sifting a myriad of scents through his acute sense of smell, but detected nothing of

Anya, which he found strange. They were alpha mates, according to Roman, yet they didn’t seem to have

the kind of intimacy he expected. More like an old-fashioned arranged marriage of some type.

Then again, werewolf relationships were complex and he didn’t understand everything just yet. After

making love, he and Roman had lain snuggled together for hours while Roman explained the ins and outs

of pack structure to him. All the members of the pack had open relationships—that is, any member of the

pack could mate with any other, so long as it was a consensual union.

That piqued his curiosity. “What kind of…union…do you have with Anya?”

“You sound jealous, Golden Eyes.”

Kevin shrugged. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Roman sighed and rubbed himself in a slow and sensual way against Kevin. “Long ago, I was like you

once. Alone. Untrained. I didn’t know my parents, didn’t know the slightest thing about being a wolf. Then

Anya came along and we became good friends. She is very old, older than even I. She became my mentor,

you might say, and from there, we developed an intimacy. She understood my preferences in a partner, of

course, but she didn’t care about that. She was old before I ever met her, and she’d had many ‘true loves’

over the centuries. She was seeking a trustworthy friend to father an unborn Pedigree child with her. Thus,

we came to his arrangement. She allows me to have my boys, and I service her in her desire for

offspring.”

“Yet there are no offspring.”

“What makes you say that?”

Kevin sat up and cradled his head on his hand as he looked down at Roman’s smooth, aristocratic face.

“Because you’re still together after a hundred years.”

Roman’s eyes darkened, the first genuine emotion that Kevin had ever seen in them. “Anya has never

successfully carried to term.”

“She can’t have children?”

“She can conceive but she can’t carry the child for long. Perhaps it has something to do with the

mechanics of her shifting, or her body, or this is just the way she is. We don’t know why.”

Kevin felt a tension in the air. Obviously, he’d hit on a sore spot for Roman. “Sorry.”

“I’d rather not speak of such unpleasantness,” Roman said, cupping the back of Kevin’s head and pulling

him down for an open-mouthed kiss, his cock already springing to life between them.

Now, as he lay there alone, he went over their conversation in his head. It bothered him more than he’d

thought. Roman had always seemed a little overenthusiastic about having him in the pack. His pack. He

said Kevin had the potential to be an alpha, but how would that work, three alphas leading the pack?

Unless, of course, he had some other more dubious reasons for keeping Kevin around. Was Kevin the

sacrificial lamb in wolf’s clothing to be given to Anya to satisfy her desire for a pup while Roman went

off to create his own pack?

“Maybe,” he breathed into the dark. “Or maybe you’re just being incredibly paranoid.”

But why would Roman—so beautiful and old and sophisticated—otherwise take any interest in someone

like Kevin? He wasn’t anything like Roman. He was a fucking barkeep. He wasn’t rich or ambitious. He

was moderately good looking, but nothing like the chiseled, model-like studs that Roman had chosen over

the centuries as companions.

The idea bothered him more and more. What did he really know about Roman? He was a good lover, but

could he be trusted? He was as much a mystery as this lifestyle was.

He lay there, fretting about these things while music slowly drifted to him. He looked over at the bedside

clock and saw it was nine o’clock in the evening. He was surprised to find he’d spent all day with

Roman. He sighed. Anya’s party. She was putting it on for him. He guessed he was obligated to show up,

even though he’d never been very big on parties.

He got up, dressed, and went down the lighted hall to the balcony that overlooked the common room far

below. The party was already in full swing. A huge trestle of catered food—mostly various meat—

occupied the center of the room, the hot tub was full of slick, naked male bodies writhing around, and the

rest of the space was full of pack members playing video games, smoking pot, or making out on various

pieces of furniture. Eighties power ballads poured out of invisible speakers.

Kevin looked over the festivities, and it occurred to him that other than manning the downstairs, and being

Roman’s guard dogs, he’d never seen any of these guys holding down an actual job. “Must be nice to be

rich and unemployed,” he muttered, not bitterly but with perhaps a touch more annoyance than he’d

expected.

“They’re not unemployed,” Roman said, standing beside him suddenly. Kevin almost jumped at Roman’s

ghostlike power to appear almost anywhere without making a sound. “They’re mine, and they work to

please me. Their job is pleasure.”

Kevin looked over at his lover. “Like paid escorts.”

Roman pursed his lips. “You can see it that way, I suppose. But I like to think of it as a very specific

arrangement. They please me, entertain me, and in return, I take care of their needs.”

“Escorts. Paid whores.”

Roman narrowed his eyes, and Kevin realized he was probably stepping over a line. All that fretting in

bed had gotten to him, soured his mood—not to mention Fenrir’s handiwork. That still preyed on him.

Who wouldn’t be testy? “If I’m in with the pack, does that mean I need to give up my day job and serve

you like they do?”

“Do you like your day job?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly. “Mostly. I’m a good bartender. I like to work.”

Roman laughed. “I think you’re the first companion I’ve had that’s ever said that.”

“What’s wrong with wanting to work and make your own way in the world?”

Roman smirked. “Absolutely nothing. But every time you open your mouth, you prove yourself a Pedigree.

An alpha in the making.”

“That’s rather elitist, isn’t it?”

“That does not make it untrue.” Roman put his arm around Kevin’s waist and pulled him close. “Why not

come down and mingle, instead of standing apart and philosophizing?”

The food looked good, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d eaten, and the naked men

frolicking in the hot tub reminded him of other insatiable hungers, but instead of merely joining the others,

Kevin headed for the wet bar and planted himself behind it. It was an open bar—Roman Le Feuvre liked

his liquor like he liked his men, strong and loose—but by tending it, at least Kevin felt like he was doing

something other than just living off Roman’s good graces.

Before long, the guys started bellying up, challenging him to make increasingly more difficult cocktails for

them. It was fun, and he found it gave him a chance to talk to each guy, to learn something about them.

They came in all types—gorgeous models, former Wall Street men, aspiring actors, writers, musicians,

tattoo artists, athletes. There were black men and white men and even a few Asian and Hispanic men.

They were funny and interesting, but also a little sad. They were all men who’d had big dreams before

meeting Roman and becoming werewolves. Now they didn’t do anything but party and have fun all the

time.

One hot, muscled, shirtless African-American guy named Rory asked for a Grasshopper, a drink he’d read

about in an old novel. He said he was Jonah’s lover and his former partner in their once successful real

estate firm.

“And you and Jonah gave that all up to be in Roman’s pack?” Kevin said.

Rory shrugged. “Roman has more money than we could ever make in our collective lifetimes.”

“Yeah, but…if you make it, it’s yours. This way, you’re beholden to Roman.” Kevin set the drink down in

front of Rory.

Rory grinned and swallowed the Grasshopper down in one gulp. “Don’t worry, we earn our cash, believe

me. Hey, this is really good, barkeep!”

Kevin grinned back. “I aim to please.”

“If that’s true, maybe you can come please us,” Rory said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He took

Kevin by the hand and led him to the edge of the hot tub, where he started to strip off the shorts he wore.

Kevin had never seen a naked black man before. He was fascinated by Rory’s sleek, sable skin and thick,

purplish cock. Jonah came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Kevin’s waist, working his shirt

out of his jeans and sprinkling soft, ticklish kisses along the side of his neck. Kevin moaned and closed

his eyes as Jonah slid a hand inside his jeans, boldly cupping his balls and giving them a friendly squeeze.

“He coming along?” Rory chuckled in his deep baritone before descending the steps into the frothy water.

“Jesus, yes.” Jonah massaged his cock and balls until Kevin was hard and almost painfully aroused, then

stripped the jeans off him.

Rory looked impressed, which made Kevin feel insanely proud. Rory himself was hung like a horse. “I

want to taste him. Hold him for me.”

Kevin’s heart thudded with excitement somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. He’d never been with two

guys at once before.

Jonah led him down the steps and into the hot, fragrant water. He wrapped his arms around Kevin’s waist,

keeping him restrained while Rory went to his knees and licked the spongy, weeping head of Kevin’s

cock. Kevin grunted, the stimulation of hands, hot water and tongue almost too much, but Jonah held him

perfectly still as Rory swallowed him down an inch at a time and wrapped his canine-long tongue around

his shaft. It was obvious Rory had a lot of practice; he easily swallowed Kevin down until his nose was

flat against Kevin’s groin.

Kevin leaned forward so his arms were braced against the edge of the hot tub. Rory sucked hard and

Kevin shuddered at the sharp, erotic sensation. Rory slid his big, soapy hand up Kevin’s ass, parted his

cheeks and inserted two fingers. The sudden, sharp penetration made Kevin yelp and bite his bottom lip,

his suddenly sharp canine teeth pricking his own flesh. The taste of his own blood in his mouth made him

hungry, made him want more. He whimpered and writhed as Rory pumped his fingers in and out of his

rectum while suckling his rod deep down his throat.

The others were watching them, Roman included, but it made no difference to Kevin. He could feel the

wolf inside wanting off its leash. “Inside me,” he told Jonah in a hoarse voice that sounded more like an

animal trying to speak. His fingernails were suddenly long and sharp, clicking impatiently against the

ceramic tiles on the edge of the club. “I want you inside me.”

Jonah got down on his knees and started licking him up and down. He licked over Kevin’s balls and

perineum and asshole. He poked his tongue inside, lapping until Kevin growled deep in his chest, bucked

his hips so his cock bumped Rory’s tonsils. Rory gave a satisfied growl and the vibration stiffened

Kevin’s back and made him moan with pleasure. He scraped his claws along the ceramic tile while his

body fought against his orgasm, wanting this bliss to last as long as it could. Finally, Jonah hugged his

hips, sought and found the proper angle, and tentatively started entering his slick, eager hole.

Kevin grunted with the heavenly sensation of being fucked front and back. It was almost like Rory and

Jonah were touching each other through the wall of his body. “Harder,” he growled, and Jonah obliged

and started pounding him, forcing his hips forward with each impact, which drove his cock further down

Rory’s throat. Rory stroked his own hard-on, sucked and spun his tongue around Kevin’s stiff shaft,

applying just a hint of razor-sharp teeth. Kevin panted, whined, thrust between his two lovers. He could

feel his orgasm slowly but steadily building again at his spine and spiraling out.

And enthusiastic Jonah came quickly, shivering and pumping his load deep inside Kevin’s body. Kevin

followed immediately after, thrusting and jetting down Rory’s throat. Rory came last, drenching the front

of Kevin’s body with his pearly come. Afterward, Rory and Jonah licked him clean of spend while Kevin

panted and trembled at the edge of the hot tub.

“I want a go at him.”

Kevin, gasping from exhaustion, looked up, and found himself staring at a naked Fenrir looming over him

like some big, blond, warrior Viking. Tribal tattoos encircled both huge biceps, and he wore military dog

tags around his thick neck. His balls were huge and heavy, almost as big as Roman’s, and his cock stiff

and weeping. Fenrir’s icy gaze met Kevin’s as he smirked a challenge. “Unless our new Pedigree is all

done for the night, of course.”

Kevin’s first instinct was to tell Fenrir to fuck off, but he knew if he did that, Fenrir would know he’d

gotten to him. Kevin smirked back. “Sure. Why not? But I want to top you.”

He expected Fenrir to back down, but Fenrir’s smirk only grew an inch. “I wouldn’t have it any other

way, Pedigree.”

Kevin crawled, dripping wet, from the hot tub, pulling Fenrir down to the floor with him. Before Fenrir

could say anything, Kevin crawled atop him, pinning the other werewolf under his weight, their body and

balls pressed tight together. Soon they were face to face. Fenrir’s silvery eyes bored into him, challenging

him. He was bigger than Kevin, but, as a beta, not more powerful, at least according to Roman. Kevin

wasn’t sure if he believed that and felt some of his courage wither now that they were this close.

Fenrir reached up with a meaty paw and clamped it around the side of Kevin’s neck. His muscles

twitched and the power in his hand told Kevin he could easily break his neck with a single twist. Kevin

expected to feel worried, but instead the thought excited him, made his balls heavy with need. Fenrir

dragged him down for a hard, bruising kiss that left Kevin’s lips tingling. Kevin shivered at the inherent