Melinda’s Wolves(40)

It was right.

Just as she was about to voice her need, Trace lifted her off Keegan’s shoulders and helped settle her feet on the ground.

She heaved for oxygen as the men released her and stripped off the rest of their clothing. They didn’t take their gazes off her partially-sated body, and she swallowed through the sexual energy as their cocks emerged, hard and standing at attention.

She reached out toward Keegan, the closest man to her hand.

But he surprised her by jumping out of her reach.

Trace kissed her temple, cupping her face from behind and letting one finger stray across her cheek as he met her gaze. “We aren’t claiming you against the back of the truck in the middle of nowhere.”

His words shocked her. How could they deny her?

Trace chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say in my life. Believe me, I’d like nothing better than to bend you over and take what’s mine. But you aren’t ready.”

“I’m ready,” she blurted, unfiltered.

“Physically, I mean. Your pussy is tight. Your ass will be so much tighter. Let’s run together first, and then we’ll work on stretching your tight hole open for a while back at the house. A relaxed environment where you can comfortably let yourself go.”

She nodded, unable to speak. It was an oxymoron to mention stretching her tight rear hole and comfortable in the same sentence. But she also recognized the importance of Trace’s words. And it warmed her to know her mates cared enough to ease her discomfort in this matter.

A noise in front of her made her jerk her gaze to find Keegan midshift. A few more seconds and he stood before her completely transformed into the most gorgeous blond wolf she’d ever seen. Perhaps the largest also. He blinked, his deep blue eyes the same shade as they were in human form.

Trace released her to shift at her back as she spun around to watch his transformation. Together, in human form, her mates were amazing. Next to each other in wolf form, they were spectacular.

Trace was a deep brown, his fur so soft it begged her to bury her hands in it and hug him against her. His eyes matched his fur. Somehow she resisted the urge to burrow her hands in his coat and closed her eyes to let the change wash over her.

The second her paws hit the ground, she gave a short howl she hoped expressed her excitement.

“Heading to the peak then, baby?” Trace communicated.

She’d never been so glad for the mental connection lupines had in wolf form than she was right then. “Yes. I’ll lead.” She knew that would shock them enough to give her a head start. And she was right. Moments later, they snarled behind her as she raced between the pine trees, bounding over logs and low-lying shrubbery.

She expanded her lungs, not caring a bit how tired she might get. She needed this. Needed the connection with nature. The quiet time she would demand to relax and let her guard down with the universe, inviting the spirits in to quiet her soul and calm her heart.

It didn’t take long for her mates to pass her, pawing at her playfully but remaining silent in her head as though they recognized her need to be with herself.

This side of the mountain was steep, the terrain often difficult. A few times they had to double back and change their route enough to navigate higher.

When they reached about halfway to the summit, Melinda stopped. An unknown force pushed her to take notice. She lifted her head and scanned the area. Her men continued forward, temporarily unaware of her sudden hesitation.

As they rounded a bend ahead of her, out of sight, but not so far that she felt threatened, it happened.

She was prepared. She’d foreseen this scenario. Many times, if she was honest. She’d woken in the night even in her teens, startled from a dream whose exact depiction was this moment.

She’d always thought the dream occurred at the top of the mountain. But that wasn’t where she was now. An innocent mistake since spirit sightings were nearly exclusively reported near the summit.

As she twisted her neck to the right, she knew what she would find.

And there it was, glorious in its way—the dark shadowy figure, elusive enough to not conform to any specific shape. It was like a smoky illusion. Transparent, but also not. Indescribable. Gorgeous. Calming while making her heart race at the same time. What was the spirit doing so low on the mountainside?

Most beings, including her own pack members, would be frightened by the presence. Inevitably that fear probably also caused the spirit to disintegrate almost as fast as it appeared.

But Melinda was not most people. She was as intrigued as she was fearful. She stepped forward hesitantly, hoping the smoke would gather into a more discernable form. It drew in on itself, gathering as though perhaps organizing, but then it stopped, shimmering in the afternoon light, but seemingly unwilling to reveal more. As if it had coherent thought and found Melinda not yet worthy of more divulging information.