Her Viking Wolves(96)

My pack, now FJ’s pack, lets out a cheer so loud, it’s nearly deafening.





* * *



Fuck and Burn. Burn and Fuck. I’ve seen this ritual go down in both directions at least a hundred times. I remind myself of this as the crowd cheers for my fucking. I know it’s more about the show than the claiming. Especially when it follows a Speak Now Ritual.

Still…

I don’t want—I can’t allow him to touch me like I’ve seen other brides touched. Handled, really, as they’re dragged in front of the crowd by their Dark Wolf grooms.

So before FJ can lay his hands on me, I take myself over to the metal hitching post—the one my father handcuffs Party Favors to so they can’t run before he shoots them. With my heart still dying in my stomach, I bend over and present my backside to FJ, butt in the air. Like a human male awaiting a prostrate exam. With about just as much enthusiasm, since it feels exactly like handing over my game controller in the middle of a level I was pretty sure I could win.

After a few tense moments, I sense him behind me. But I refuse to look over my shoulder at him. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Two can play this cold game, I think, as I stand frozen in position. Willing him to put it in me and get this over with already. Give his new pack their show.

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, I’m suddenly jerked upright so my back is flush with his front. A fisted hand appears at the front of my dress, wrenching it down with a hard yank, and my breasts are exposed, nipples pebbling at the sudden sensation of cool air.

FJ’s hands cover both breasts, massaging them with ruthless precision.

No…I clamp my lips, shaking my head. I know what he’s doing and I fight it. At least I try to.

But my body can’t seem to help its response to him. Soon I can feel myself becoming warm below and I let out a helpless moan, my head falling back into his shoulder. His hands lower, this time yanking up the short skirt of my dress so my pussy is fully exposed.

I expect FJ to claim me then, but to my horror, one of his hands finds the front of my core and starts rubbing.#p#分页标题#e#

“No…” I mutter, shaking my head. Because I don’t want it to be this way.

It’s one thing to be claimed in front of my pack like hundreds of brides before me. But it’s another to be made to come by my hateful husband, like a bitch in heat.

However, that seems to be exactly what FJ intends, and he’s merciless in my takedown. Still fully clothed, he holds me to him with one arm barred across my front and one hand buried deep inside my core. His fingers expertly manipulate my pussy as he shows the crowd exactly how hot he can make me. Making me the show as they cheer him on with lewd words and gestures.

I shake my head, trying to deny him. Trying to refuse to give the crowd their show. This is supposed to be about him coming. Not me. True Claim. That’s what this tradition is supposed to be about, and I’ve never seen another she-wolf actually come on stage during this part.

But even trying as hard as I can to fight off the climax, I soon feel one building inside me, my wolf whimpering with helpless need. Don’t, I say to her. I remind myself exactly what’s going on here. That I’m being made to come by my fully clothed husband as every biker in my pack watches. But reminding myself of that only seems to make it worse.

My wolf actually becomes hotter at the thought of how thoroughly I’m about to be claimed by this wolf, the alpha of his pack and mine, in the way of our lupine forebearers. Thoroughly and completely, with no room for questions about who I belong to.

It’s so fucked up, but the climax overtakes me. It tears into my human’s mutinous silence, making me cry out, as bolts of sticky essence spill from my core, making my pussy slick.

Then and only then does FJ let up. But only for the moment it takes to shove me forward so I’m forced to catch myself on the hitching post. So I’m forced to present my backside to him in the exact way I’d tried to avoid.

Then I know without looking over my shoulder that he’s unzipping his pants, because another lewd roar erupts from the crowd.

He rams into me hard, only stopping when he’s all the way in, as if taking a moment to silently acknowledge how little resistance my pussy gives him.

He knows and I know I’m wet for him. That no matter how much my human is resisting him in that moment, my wolf has given over to him completely.

It’s humiliating. So humiliating. And despite the aching pleasure that vibrates throughout my body, I have to keep my eyes focused on the wall of blood in front of me.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He doesn’t deserve your tears.