Alpha Brat: A Tale Of Five Hot Wolves

Chapter 17: Brat

I stare at him. Yep, he’s finally lost whatever fragile grip he had on sanity.

He stares right back at me, one hand still buried at the nape of my neck, dark eyes fixed on my face.

The shopping bags hanging off my arms feel ridiculous. Tiny little paper shields against whatever the hell this moment is becoming.

"You can’t ask people things like that," I tell him, trying for offended and landing somewhere closer to breathless. "You sound like a jealous Victorian husband."

Ezra doesn’t blink. "You let another male touch you,"

That sends a weird little tremor through me. Those words aren’t sexy, absolutely should not be sexy. But there’s something underneath them, raw, furious in a way I’ve never seen from him.

Usually Ezra hides everything behind polished smiles and expensive sweaters and dry little comments that make me want to bite him. Tonight he looks wrecked by me.

The evening light catches sharp angles of his face as he stands over me on the deck. Heat blooms low in my stomach.

Something is deeply wrong with me.

I force my eyebrows to shoot upward. "Excuse the fuck out of you?"

He doesn’t reply.

"You people are getting increasingly weird about smells." I laugh nervously because my survival instincts are broken. "Darren hugged me, ok, Jesus."

The hand in my hair tightens fractionally.

"Darren," he repeats.

"My ex." I squeak.

Then, very softly, "Ah."

That tiny sound feels more threatening than yelling.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Why do you care?"

His gaze drags down my body, searching for fingerprints only he can see. His eyes lift back to mine.

"Because," he says calmly, "you’re ours."

My brain blue screens. And I actually bark out a laugh.

"Absolutely not. I know you rich forest men have weird boundaries, but you cannot just announce ownership like you’re purchasing cattle."

"He touched your face."

"People do that sometimes, Ezra." freёweɓnovel.com

"He smelled your hair."

That lands oddly. Not the accusation, the fact he sounds genuinely furious about it. A strange flutter moves low in my stomach.

I’m offended. Probably. Mostly.

Unfortunately another part of me is busy noticing the way his sweater stretches across his chest when he breathes. And the fact he smells incredible.

God.

Why do all of them smell incredible?

Warmth curls through me, liquid and heavy.

His nostrils flare and he loops his other hand round my hip. My nipples tighten painfully beneath my shirt. My thighs press together before I can stop them.

His eyes flick down at the movement.

"You little Brat," he murmurs.

My face burns. "Do you hear yourself?"

One corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t amusement, it’s restraint. Barely-there restraint stretched dangerously thin.

"You let him scent you."

I throw my hands up so violently one of the shopping bags nearly flies off the deck. "Again with the scenting! What does that even mean?"

He exhales slowly through his nose, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he tries to control himself. When he opens them again, the look on his face makes my stomach dip hard.

"You don’t understand what you do to us yet."

I swear to God he’s bigger. Physically increased in size. His shoulders broader, veins stand out more visibly along his hands, chest rises deeper.

The evening breeze slides across the deck, cool against my flushed skin, but I’m too hot everywhere. My pulse pounds between my thighs in humiliatingly obvious waves sending slick wetness into my already soaked panties. While Ezra stands there looking at me like he wants to drag me apart molecule by molecule.

"This is insane," I whisper.

"Probably."

"Then why am I..." I trail off helplessly.

Ezra’s eyes darken. "Wet?"

The word is a hand between my legs, I actually suck in a sharp breath.

His gaze sharpens, the logic centre of my brain is telling me I should be uncomfortable. Instead my mouth goes dry.

"I hate all of you," I mutter weakly.

"No, you don’t."

He crowds me backward until the backs of my legs hit one of the lounge chairs. His hand slides from my hair to my jaw, thumb stroking slowly across my cheek while he studies my face with terrifying focus.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

I swallow hard. "Darren, my cheating, scumbag ex, grabbed me outside a coffee shop. We talked. He hugged me."

A low sound rumbles in his chest, deep enough that I feel it more than hear it.

"He put his hands on you."

"Were you born this dramatic?"

One second he’s standing over me. The next he’s got both hands on my hips, turning us sharply until I’m on my back, on the outdoor rug, so quickly all I can do is let out a startled noise. The shopping bags spill across the deck around us while Ezra follows me down in one smooth movement, settling between my thighs with frightening certainty.

My heart slams against my ribs.

"Ezra."

"You let him touch what belongs to our pack."

The declaration hits low and hot and wrong in a way that makes my body arch beneath him. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Ezra groans softly.

"There," he murmurs against my throat as he lowers himself over me. "That’s what I’ve been smelling."

His face buries against my neck, inhaling deeply enough that I shiver all over. He starts rubbing against me slowly, dragging his body along mine with deliberate pressure that dissolves my thoughts.

He’s heavy everywhere. Solid muscle and warmth and expensive fabric dragging against my skin while he buries his face against my throat. His hands smooth down my sides, gripping my waist, his nose drags along my jaw, through my hair. Every breath he takes sounds rougher than the last.

Horrifyingly, my body responds to all of it. He’s trying to cover me in himself and my eyes flutter shut.

The sour lingering wrongness from Darren fades beneath him.

"Ezra," I whisper shakily.

"Still smell wrong." His mouth brushes the sensitive spot beneath my ear. "Can’t stand it."

The possessiveness in his voice sends another pulse of heat straight between my legs.

"Oh God."

"You let him touch your face," he murmurs, almost angry now. "Your hair."

"Just a hug," I pant out.

"Don’t care." The simple honesty steals the little breath I have left.

His mouth crashes against mine with enough force to make my head spin. I gasp against his lips and he takes full advantage, kissing me deeper, tongue searching for mine while one hand fists in my hair.

The noise that leaves me is humiliating.

Ezra groans into my mouth like he’s been starving for it.

Heat floods everywhere. My fingers clutch helplessly at his sweater while his body pins mine against the rug, overwhelming in the best possible way.

He kisses like he’s furious about wanting me this much, like it offends him personally.

And maybe it does.

"Still smell him," he mutters against my mouth.

"Ezra..."

"Need it gone."

I barely process what’s happening before he’s dragging my leggings and underwear down my thighs in one smooth motion, exposing me completely to the cool evening air.

He’s staring between my legs, the expression bare on his face, a man whose discovered religion.

Pure hunger. Need.

"Jesus Christ," he whispers.

My thighs twitch instinctively, sending a slow, dangerous smile curving across his mouth.

"You let him near this." He growls. "Sacred, heavenly, ours."

He buries his face between my thighs, and the first drag of his tongue through my soaking heat makes my entire body jolt violently off the rug.

"Fuck." Is the only word I can grind out.

He groans against me in response. His hands tighten on my thighs, holding me open while he tastes me slowly, thoroughly. Nothing about this feels rushed, its worship.

With long, deliberate strokes he devours my pussy, never lingering on my clit for long enough. Teasing movements that leave me shaking harder every second that passes. Each small sound I make affects him. Every gasp pulls another groan from his chest.

It’s obscene. The way he watches me while he eats. Dark eyes fixed on my face while his mouth works between my thighs, addicted to the taste of me already.

"Ezra, " I whisper helplessly, fingers tangling in his hair. "Holy shit."

His tongue pushes inside me and I nearly sob.

Pleasure builds fast and hot and terrifying, curling tight in my stomach while he consumes me with frightening focus. The stubble along his jaw scrapes deliciously against the sensitive skin of my thighs every time he moves, and the combination of that roughness with the wet heat of his mouth is enough to completely destroy coherent thought.

"You taste of salvation," he murmurs against me.

I’m so drenched now I can hear it every time he licks into me, every filthy little noise dragging another embarrassed moan from my throat.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "Let everyone know who you belong to."

The possessiveness in his voice nearly tips me over the edge right there. My hips rock upward helplessly and he growls softly, one arm wrapping around my thighs to hold me exactly where he wants me.

"That’s it," he says roughly. "Use my mouth."

Heat tightens violently low. I’m so fucking close.

His eyes lift to mine while he slides two fingers slowly up my inner thigh, teasing but not quite touching where I need him.

I whine

"Such a needy little thing," he murmurs.

"So responsive," Corrian says calmly from somewhere above us, "I think our brat’s desperate to cum."

Ezra growls without lifting his head.

"Shit, shit," I shove at him weakly.

Kill me now. Why isn’t he stopping? Corrian is right there. The humiliation.

Corrian stalks closer, utterly unbothered by the fact Ezra’s currently lapping at my pussy like a starved man.

I crane my neck back and force my eyes open. He’s panting breaths through his nose, and the tent in his cargos makes it obvious he’s as affected as us.

"She let another male scent her," Ezra says darkly.

Corrian’s eyes settle on me, and another whimper is pulled from the depths of my soaked heat. That look...

"That so?" he murmurs.

Corrian ever so slowly drops to his knees beside my head. Large warm hands slide into my hair, thumbs brushing softly across my flushed cheeks.

"Did our brat let somebody else touch her?" he asks gently.

Somewhere inside, there is a staunch feminist screaming at me. I should hate how much I love that phrase. I lock her away when Ezra focuses all of his attention on my swollen clit. Finally.

"Just," Pant. "Hugged," Pant. "Me."

Corrian hums thoughtfully. "That does sound like a lesson-worthy offence."

"You’re... Insane." I manage to pant the words out.

I can’t focus, because while Ezra uses his expert tongue to edge me deliciously, Corrian has trailed down to my tits, massaging my nipples to the point of glorious pain.

"And yet," he murmurs softly, leaning down to brush his mouth against mine, "you’re fucking dripping for us."

I moan, Ezra growls against my clit, Corrian smiles into the kiss.

My body is no longer my own. Played and strummed by these two beautiful males. I cry out, tears slide down my face, I’m sobbing from being worked top to bottom.

Ezra sucks my clit into his mouth, just as Corrian pinches both my nipples, hard, I explode.

"Good girl." Corrian whispers directly into my ear.