Defending Their Mate, Part One: A BBW Shifter Werewolf Romance (The Last Pack) Read Online Free Page B

knees.
    Grace had always bristled when someone tried to do the same to her, but Connor seemed pleased. He even smiled up at her as he gathered the hem of her nightgown and rubbed it against her skin.
    Awareness washed over her. In the back of her head, she'd been certain this would happen quickly. Mac could have taken her on the floor and she would have been relieved, any pain from her first time washed away in the satisfaction of finally, finally , having this aching need met.
    But now Connor was on his knees, his face close to her pussy, and her heart was racing out of control. Because they weren't just going to fuck her.
    They were going to make it good.
    Mac took over, hauling the rumpled satin up over her head, stripping her bare. It slithered to the floor, forgotten, as he rubbed his chin over the spot where her neck met her shoulder. The rough scratch of stubble both distracted her from and heightened her anticipation, and Grace shivered.
    "Look at his eyes," he commanded, tilting her head forward until her gaze locked with Connor's. "He's been dying to do this. He didn't hope—he didn't dare—but he wants this more than anything else in the whole fucking world."
    Why? She started to form the word, but Connor's hands swept up her thighs, and her world narrowed to his thumbs as they moved higher and higher…
    He stopped just shy of her pussy, and she whimpered. The ache was all-consuming now, intense enough to make her squirm in Mac's grasp as she tried to get closer. "Please—" Mac's arms tightened, and her arousal soared. "God, just do it."
    "We've got you," Connor murmured, stroking her inner thigh. "Mac knows what your wolf needs. You trust him, don't you?"
    It barely even sounded like a question. As if Connor trusted Mac, and so everyone else should, too. And Grace did , with the instincts that had brought her here to begin with. She nodded jerkily and turned blindly toward Mac, pressing her face to his.
    He nuzzled her cheek as his hands settled on her hips. "It could be fast," he told her, "and it would still help. You wouldn't burn anymore. But this is better."
    His voice soothed her. She relaxed against his chest, closed her eyes, and stopped struggling with herself.
    "That's it." Connor was so close, she could feel his breath against her leg. His fingers brushed her knee and pushed gently. "Open for me."
    She did, fighting back another wave of self-consciousness. There was naked, and then there was this —exposed, the extent of her arousal impossible to hide.
    Connor pressed a kiss to her skin and groaned. "Fuck, Mac. She's so wet."
    "Wet enough to fuck?" The words vibrated against Grace's lips—wicked, all for her, even though they were directed at the man kneeling at her feet.
    Connor's fingers crept higher. His knuckles grazed her pussy, and Grace's toes curled. "Probably. But I can make her wetter."
    "How does she taste?"
    Grace opened her eyes in time to watch Connor drag his tongue slowly up the inside of her thigh. "Like she needs to come."
    Oh God, she did —and she didn't know how. But as Connor's mouth slid higher, and his tongue touched her—stroking with taunting gentleness that made her knees buckle—she realized it didn't matter.
    They knew what she needed.
    "Say it." Mac coaxed her mouth open with his thumb on her lower lip. "Tell him how it feels."
    There was nothing to cling to as she trembled, nothing but them. She clutched Mac's arm with one hand and sank the other into Connor's hair. He moaned, and she felt it , felt the vibrations as his tongue found her clit.
    She choked on his name and pulled his hair, trying to haul him closer. He chuckled, low and hoarse, and retreated, licking back down and teasing her with light touches. It wasn't enough, so she tugged harder and found one word. Just one. " Please ."
    Connor moaned again. "She's yanking my hair harder than you do."
    "Good." Mac kissed her ear, a glancing, almost chaste brush completely at odds with the low, honeyed tone of