A/N – Okay, okay… no more giving time estimates on updating. Seems every time I do I curse myself because something nutty will then happen in RL to suck up all of my writing time and make a big 'ole liar out of me. Sorry it's taken me so long to post and to even respond to reviews…I know, there were like 10 reviews…how super lame am I? Thank you so much to everyone who did review!
I've been away on business a lot recently and completely overwhelmed in general at work as Murphy's Law persists in bitch slapping me. I guess I've learned a bit in the past month though… fun things such as whatever can, definitely will blow up whenever a takeover strategy backfires miserably, and more importantly, to never underestimate the stupidity of your predecessors to memorialize in writing moronic statements and ill-conceived agreements that can later surface to bite you in the ass. Yeah… it's been good times. Thankfully I have Quil/Alison/Lena smut to distract me from it all.
"Quil, she's fucking gorgeous!" Alison whisper-exclaimed as she watched Jared and the statuesque brunette slowly make their approach through the sea of swaying bodies on the dance floor.
"She is," Quil agreed, gifting the woman in question with what he hoped was his most rakish grin. Alison took notice, her eyes darting back and forth between Quil and the stunner as the dazzling hottie smirked back at him.
Alison's jaw hung open and she wondered briefly if she'd dropped acid earlier and it had somehow slipped her mind. "I totally thought Grumpy Smurf still hated me for attacking his imprint," she mused aloud as she watched Jared bend to whisper something in the goddess' ear that caused her to titter, then reach up and stroke his jaw flirtatiously, all the while her eyes still devouring Quil. "And here he is delivering me the hook-up of the century," she mumbled dazedly, still in shock.
"Oh, he totally still hates you," Quil conceded without breaking eye contact with Jared's luscious companion, "but fortunately for us Jared's inner pervert has always been stronger than his inner hater."
At that another thought occurred to Alison. "Shit, Quil, what if I'm not her type?" she almost wailed. "Oh, my god, it totally looks like she's more into you and Jared than me," she pouted. "Are you sure I'm supposed to be part of this three-way?"
Quil shouted with laughter and turned his undivided attention to the task of alleviating his adorable imprint's suddenly anxious demeanor. Snatching her up by the waist and hauling her into his lap, he declared, "Fuck's sake, beautiful, you're everyone's type! Will you quit spazzing? You're blowing the whole swinger couple swag vibe I'm trying to give off here." He growled and bit lightly against the back of her neck, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin at the top of her spine. It tickled. Once he'd made that discovery she was soon giggling and squirming uncontrollably as he nipped and snarled playfully against her neck repeatedly, his fingers joining in on the torment, tickling the bare skin of her belly beneath her shirt until her stomach muscles ached and she was dizzy from thrashing about in his lap and laughing so hard.
When Quil finally relented, Alison looked up to see that Jared and his breathtaking new acquaintance had arrived and were standing right in front of their little booth table, the gorgeous vixen studying her with a slight smirk on her bee-stung lips. If possible, she was even more of a knockout up close.
"Lena," Jared announced suavely, "I'd like to introduce to you my friends, Alison and Quil." He beamed down at them. "Alison, Quil," he paused for effect, "this is Lena." He looked so excessively and absurdly pleased with himself it had the effect of shifting Alison out of her momentarily paranoid state of mind back to her more standard drunken disposition of flippancy and sarcasm.
"Jesus, Jared," she snorted, struggling to sit upright on Quil's lap, "it's not like you created her from your fucking spare rib, you just found her on the other end of the bar! Quit acting like your prick grew another six inches on the walk over here."
Jared's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at Alison. Lena smiled broadly and thrust her hand towards Alison, quipping, "I won't complain if it did."
Alison grinned. Rather than shake hands she and Lena linked fingers and Alison drew Lena down to sit with them, shifting herself over onto one of Quil's knees in order to draw Lena down onto the other. As the two girls made themselves comfortable on his lap, intertwining hands, flirting and sizing each other up, Quil mouthed to the ceiling over their heads, "Thank you, Spirit Warriors!"
Jared cleared his throat just loudly enough for Quil's wolf ears to catch over the excitement of their surroundings. There was no mistaking the pure gratitude reflected in Quil's eyes as they met Jared's pointed look of irritation, mouthing, "And I fucking love you, man!"
Jared rolled his eyes, but seemed to appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless, mumbling, "Whatever… you fucking owe me big time," at a volume meant for supernatural ears only. "Just remember if Sam was your chaperone this trip you and Alison would've been back in separate rooms at the hotel by now, surfing through 20 channels of shitty Bachelorette re-runs on cable television."
"Dude…anytime you and Mags need a hottie for a three-way hook-up, I'm your guy," Quil avowed, mumbling furtively at supernatural decibel. "Just let me know when and where and I'm all over arranging that hook-up for you, bro."
"Ha!" Jared crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head and pouting, "Yeah, well, I think Maggie and I are a long way off from three-way sex at this point." He turned his scowl on Alison as she giggled and chatted away with Lena, completely oblivious to Jared's ire and their dialogue. "How 'bout you just keep your little wrecking ball of an imprint away from mine for starters?" He ran a restless hand through his shock of dark, cropped hair. "Fuck, I'm so wound up I feel like I'm gonna kill the next person who leaves so much as a mark on Maggie's skin."
"Understood!" Quil agreed without hesitation, while quietly thinking Jared was completely overreacting. Sheesh, she'd only been punched in the face twice in the last week or so! But as Jared was more or less in charge of their little Seattle expedition, not to mention responsible for instigating the imminent girl on girl action likely to break out across his lap at any moment, Quil had the good sense to ingratiate himself as much as possible to his pack superior. "And I promise you, Alison feels really, really terrible about the whole thing with Maggie, Jared. I swear it'll never happen again."
Jared waved a dismissive hand. "Right…right. Listen, we gotta move this party back to the hotel. I'm gonna go settle up and find Jacob." He rubbed his tired eyes. "I dunno what the fuck's up with that kid, but I swear, mood I'm in, if I find him huddled in a corner blubbering 'bout Bella again…" he shook his head and headed to the bar.
They were French kissing once they'd reached the hotel lobby. By the time they were riding the elevator Alison's left hand was hopelessly ensnared in the strap of Lena's lacy taupe bra while her other free hand explored and massaged Lena's impossibly enormous bosoms, arguing between kisses, "Mm…gawd… for real, Lena, I'm pretty sure just one of your tits is equal in size if not bigger than my entire head!" Their giggles of silly, girlish delight reverberated through the elevator shaft as Alison drunkenly revealed, "I'm so jealous and turned on at the same time!"
"Well, I'd trade my tits for your face in a minute," Lena quipped.
"Awe!" Alison moaned. "That's so sweet…and nuts…'cause you're a fucking goddess!" Their tongues resumed exploration of each other's mouths, seemingly oblivious to the other occupants in the elevator.
As her fingers diligently rolled the nipples topping Alison's much smaller mounds, Lena's pelvis circled seductively against Alison's. She pressed against her, pushing Alison's tiny body backward until she was sandwiched against Quil's front, the top of Alison's little jegging-clad ass mashed into his jean-clad groin. Lena murmured, "Mm…if your pussy tastes anywhere near as great as your mouth does I have a feeling my lips are gonna be attached to your clit all night long."
At that Jared groaned and thumped the back of his head repeatedly against the wall of the increasingly claustrophobic elevator, attempting for the third time to shift the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans to a less painful position. Jake, who'd been rocking nervously back and forth on his heels, began loudly whistling the theme song to Star Trek as he studied the carpeted elevator floor, endeavoring in vain with his hand to shield his supernatural olfactory from the scent of arousal suffusing the enclosed small space. Quil appeared to be meditating feverishly as he endured the painful pleasure of his imprint's hiney rubbing against his dangerously hard erection.
By some miracle they all made it back to the hotel suite and their respective adjoining rooms without anyone phasing or ripping the seam of their crotch. Alison immediately retreated to the bathroom to "freshen up"…which in the short time Quil had known her he'd come to learn meant thoroughly disinfecting herself from head to toe after she'd ventured into a public place for any length of time. This afforded Quil and Lena the chance to get acquainted one on one.
As it turned out Lena was anything if not direct. Within seconds of Alison disappearing to the master bathroom Lena's delectable breasts had somehow found their way into Quil's more than willing paws as she practically humped his muscled thigh. Seemed Lena was also a woman clear about what she wanted and not shy about spelling it out. They soon reached an agreement on a three-way involving Quil's cock inside of her as she ate Alison out. She only wanted reassurance from Quil that his equipment was big enough to do the job right. Apparently she was fresh off a bad break-up and it sounded to Quil like the ex's plug had never fit her outlet quite right.
"So…mmm…gorgeous?" Quil managed to ask over the bubble gum tongue in his mouth. "You do know your way around eating out a pussy, don't you?" He felt somewhat dickish for asking, but as long as she was insisting on checking his meat out as a prerequisite, he felt entitled to a little due diligence of his own.
Just because she'd done it before and possessed the natural advantage by virtue of having one of her own, didn't necessarily guarantee she was good at tonguing a clit. And Quil had a feeling women would provide way more honest, constructive feedback to other women licking their twat than they ever would to a man. So unlike some poor dude who might go decades tracing 8's and randomly jabbing with his tongue, never knowing whether he was missing the mark entirely, Quil suspected Lena probably had a pretty decent idea of how well she stacked up against her tongue fucking competition. Hopefully, she'd also be willing to admit it. If it wasn't her strong suit they could always bring Alison's vibrator into the action.
Lena pulled away slightly, her swollen lips pouting in contemplation as her eyes searched the ceiling a moment for the answer. "Hmm…well, I'm not gonna lie, Penpal…I've definitely had more experience swallowing cock than I have licking vag," she admitted candidly, her big blue eyes reflecting such innocence and sweetness in stark contrast to the lewdness of her words. Quil couldn't help but grin at her use of Alison's newest adorable nickname for him— one he'd overheard her invent back at the club in an attempt to define who he was in relationship to her when Lena inquired whether he was her boyfriend.
Lena's fingers traced down his abdominal muscles, exploring every hard ridge and indentation until they reached the waistband of his jeans. "All the more reason I should practice on your girlfriend," she reasoned breathily as she undid his button and fly, "don't you think?" Her lips brushed his again, her tongue flicking out to request reentry as her hands slid down the inside front of his pants, diving straight for the goods.
"Yesssss!" she hissed as her long fingers closed around his semi-erect organ. "It's been so long overdue my turn to win penis jackpot," she chuckled joyously, smiling through excited, wide eyes like a kid winning a prize at carnival.
Quil wasn't sure what to think about being so clearly objectified, much less how he should feel about a female who wasn't his imprint stroking his cock. Said cock didn't seem to harbor any prejudice though against the non-imprinted fingers connected to the non-imprinted knockout pressing eagerly against him, and his dick swelled exponentially in Lena's hand within a matter of seconds.
He forced himself to pull away before things got out of hand…or before something exploded in someone's hand, rather. Excusing himself with the parting suggestion that Lena "freshen up" in the guest powder room off the main room and then make herself comfortable in the master bedroom, he went to go check on Alison. She'd been holed up in the bathroom for too long in Quil's estimation, and he was starting to worry.
As he approached the closed door to the suite's master bathroom, he was troubled to notice the smell of anxiety hung in the air stronger than the overpowering scent of cannabis threatening to knock him over. He rapped tentatively then entered upon hearing Alison's softly spoken invitation.
Any surprised appreciation he might've normally expressed upon entering the absurdly large, opulent master bathroom that looked to be the size of his whole bedroom back in La Push instantly died on his lips as he took in the shock of seeing Alison's practically naked form sitting cross-legged atop the closed toilet seat smoking a fat joint.
Somewhere in the "freshening up" process she'd shed all but her black lace bra and cheeky panties. With her face freshly scrubbed and her shoulder length hair tied up in a messy ponytail, she looked undeniably edible. Forcing his gaze from the overwhelmingly enticing expanse of naked flesh now exposed to his view, Quil was disturbed to realize her fingers shook as she raised the hand-rolled smoke to her full pink lips. She appeared desperately troubled by something as she smiled shakily at him.
Shit. She'd been drinking and here he was pushing her into a threesome he'd gotten Jared to arrange for them like some kind of pack pimp. Because of him she was so anxious she was getting stoned in the bathroom. Christ, he was a terrible imprinter-protector-bodyguard-future chiropractor!
"You don't have to do this, beautiful." The words rushed out of him as he shut the door softly behind him. "I'll get rid of Lena. I'll be super polite about it, too," he assured, "you don't have to feel badly. This is all my fault."
"What? No, no, don't! It's not that!" she protested vehemently. "I mean, I'm a little nervous. But only because I've never had a three-way before," she confided shyly. "Actually…come to think of it… I've never even had a one night stand before," she mused out loud as the fact seemed to dawn on her.
His guilt tripled; then quadrupled when despite his concern for his imprint he found himself unable to stop stealing peeks at her scantily lace-clad crotch. He moved closer, relishing her clean, sweet scent as he half sat, half leaned against the vanity countertop facing her. "Really, Alison, you don't have to-"
"No, I want to, Penpal!" she insisted with a little laugh. "I'm just…having a weird moment." After setting the joint to rest on a Hello Kitty ash receptacle, she rose to her feet. Quil suppressed a feral compulsion to lick the length of her thin, but well-formed, athletic legs.
"But it's not about Lena. I'm just…" she shrugged, moving into the space between his spread thighs where he was perched on the countertop. "Do you ever feel like…" as she paused for words a second time he drew her close against him, wrapping his thick, corded arms around her back and waist. It required all of his willpower to keep his hands still and not let them roam all over her naked skin like they itched to, "…like you can feel icy fingers of death closing over your heart?" An involuntary shiver ran down her spine and she snuggled closer into his warmth, looking expectantly up at him for his response.
He frowned. "No," he answered simply after an uncomfortable silence, his deep voice echoing against the walls of the bathroom. Now he felt anxious. "What do you mean, beautiful?" he asked hesitantly, leaning in to kiss the top of her forehead. He allowed his large hand to slip around her waist and in between them, bringing it up to rest over her racing heart. They both felt her heartbeat calm beneath the silent command of his warm palm.
Alison shut her eyes. Not for the first time she wondered how he managed to instantly accomplish with his hand more than marijuana or any other drug she'd tried over the years had been capable of. She sighed, turning her cheek to rest against his chest and allowing her body to melt into his. "Oh, that feels good, Quil," she purred, wrapping her arms around his solid form to return the embrace. "How do you do that?"
"It's nothing," he mumbled absently. "Tell me about the icy fingers?" he prompted.
"It feels better now…with your hand there," came her breathy, candid reply. "Like you're blocking the cold fingers from squeezing the life from my heart with your warm ones." Her arms gave his hard midsection a shy squeeze. "But it won't last," she conceded sadly, "it always comes back. I've felt it for most of my life. Ever since…well…I just feel like it's getting stronger lately. I feel like…like that hand of death is surely coming for me this time."
She drew away and gazed up at him warily. Beyond the surface level embarrassment, a wild, heart-stopping raw fear was evident in her expression, making her look so vulnerable, much younger but conversely wiser than her years to Quil. His eyes studied hers with an odd intensity that made her blush. She found herself incapable of deciphering the emotions behind those chocolate irises and felt foolish for saying so much. Her big bloodshot brown eyes brimmed with tears for an instant before she blinked them away and giggled slightly, shaking her head. "Forget it…um…I'm…I'm just stoned is all."
She swallowed hard as Quil's scowl deepened, black storms swirling in the depths of his irises. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She wished she wasn't quite so stoned.
She suddenly wished he'd take his clothes off.
"Um…maybe you should get undressed?" she suggested softly. "Lena's been waiting for us and…"
His hands left her body and his polo shirt was whipped over his head seconds later. Shit. He really did have a nice chest for a man. She'd noticed it the first day she'd met him, when he'd burst onto the crazy scene in Kim's house just as Embry was about to kill her. It was a bit thicker, more brawny than she normally preferred, but a really nice chest nonetheless. If voluptuous women and lanky, bookish Jewish guys hadn't been more her thing, she might've even been attracted to Quil. As it was, he just wasn't her type at all. Although his skin truly was such a beautiful caramel color, she conceded. It looked like it would even taste good on her tongue. She reasoned she likely had a case of the munchies coming on.
"You're staring again." His throaty whisper made her jump as his deep baritone resonated through the tiled bathroom. She looked up to find him staring intently back at her, not even a trace of teasing in his expression. A heated blush swiftly swept over her entire body. She was sure she was too young to be having a hot flash. She heard the telltale sign of his zipper coming undone and unconsciously took a step back, guessing she looked as red as a tomato at this point.
She bit her lip as he pushed off the vanity and stood up to his full height, drawing his jeans down to the floor and gracefully stepping out of them. She felt oddly mesmerized by the fluid movement of his muscular physique as he picked them up and folded them neatly before tossing them over onto the shelving next to the enormous glass shower. With a flick of his wrist his folded polo shirt was tossed to the shelf as well. She was beginning to feel lightheaded. He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head to the side, blessing her with a wide, playful grin as he delighted in her increasingly flustered demeanor.
"Y-you…y-y-you're not wearing any briefs," she stuttered lamely.
He threw his head back and laughed. It had such a rich, beautiful sound she forgot how completely awkward she felt and began chuckling feebly along with him, all the while keeping her eyes trained above his pecks. Objects viewed in one's periphery line of vision had the tendency to look significantly larger than they actually were, right?
"Geez, if I'd known you'd have this reaction I would've dropped my drawers days ago," Quil teased. "So listen, I should let you know, Lena and I discussed a few things." His tone had turned serious so Alison made every attempt to stop obsessively focusing on the object in her periphery. "She… well, she wants me to fuck her while she goes down on you," he came right out with it. "You cool with that?" It felt pretty odd asking his imprint if she was okay with him fucking another woman right in front of her, but it was best to get it all sorted out beforehand, right?
"Oh." It was the only syllable she could manage at first. "Sure." She forced another and smiled tightly.
Quil's expression was dubious. "Positive? You won't be jealous or anything if I get to fuck her and you don't?"
"Uh-uh." She shook her head.
Quil studied her as the tensest silence they'd endured yet stretched out between them. "You sure you won't be jealous I'm not fucking you?" Quil finally inquired quietly but clearly.
Her eyes widened. "NO!" she protested. "Oh, my god, not at all, Quil!" She giggled anxiously. "No way! I mean… wow… no… I mean… c'mon! I told you before I wasn't going to sleep with you, remember?" She continued to giggle uncomfortably as she proceeded to ramble. "You're… um…really sweet… for asking though." She cleared her throat and fiddled with her ponytail as she wondered why he simply kept grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, rather than looking disappointed like he should have by her intended rejection? She really shouldn't have smoked so much.
"Cool," he concluded the discussion with a curt nod, still cheesing. She was suddenly engrossed in playing with her ponytail as he added, "Just let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable, 'kay? Or if you want me to leave you two alone at any point?"
"Mm-hmm," she squeaked, "'course."
She couldn't help but be unnerved by the fact he kept grinning at her as if he was completely enchanted by every stupid word vomited from her mouth.
He gazed adoringly down at her as he stated, "I think you're most definitely my favorite imprint."
"Ha! Well, you're on your way to becoming my second favorite bodyguard, I think," she quipped, jumping at the opportunity to try and alter the mood unfolding between them by injecting some humor. Unfortunately, her tendency towards darker humor had been enhanced by the marijuana and the creepy sense of foreboding she'd been feeling off and on all night, so it didn't occur to her how Quil might react to what she'd carelessly commenced to jokingly reveal.
"Awe, that hurts, beautiful," he pouted, reaching out to tug playfully on the ponytail she'd been twirling through her fingers. The action brought his very naked, very warm body that much closer to hers. "Only your second favorite bodyguard, huh? What can I do to become number one?"
His close proximity caused her pulse to quicken and her wit to slow. "Yeah… sorry, but I'm afraid the number one spot is permanently taken… so second place is as good as it can ever get for you." She giggled breathlessly as he scowled and then growled in mock anger. "And really, that's saying something because Frankie still hooks me up with weapons everywhere I travel… even though he's long been retired."
Quil's scowl turned into a genuine frown. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Frankie's been my second favorite bodyguard for years. We went to Europe together loads of times," she imparted recklessly without even thinking. Quil took a step closer, cocking one eyebrow. "Now he's retired but he still arranges for me to have weapons to protect myself through various security contacts and old bodyguard buddies of his everywhere I travel. Isn't that cool?" Quil appeared increasingly confused and concerned, she belatedly realized. She tried to smile reassuringly, but he didn't smile back. Shit. This had been a truly stupid topic of conversation to start up. "Uh…anyway… that's... that's how I… I had the taser gun…" she trailed off, deciding she'd already said more than too much.
It seemed to Alison Quil's deep brown eyes were suddenly lightening, taking on an orange hue. "Go on," he prompted. He was standing directly in front of her now. Too close considering the unfortunate change in his mood, not to mention his naked appendage she'd been trying to avoid focusing on. "Why did you need bodyguards, Alison? Who's number one?" he demanded in a voice that allowed for no argument.
"Um… well…" she winced sheepishly, "it's sort of a long story, Quil. Lena's waiting-"
"Tell me!" he hissed. His eyes were glowing yellow now.
Oh, fuck… this wasn't good.
"Um…so I may have been kidnapped and held for ransom a few times here and there over the years." She shrugged, giggling nervously in a pathetic last attempt to downplay the severity of it. Within her family they'd all come to make jokes about it over time, as a means of dealing, she supposed. She and Bennett were often particularly inappropriate about the ways they humorously retold and referred to her multiple kidnappings and abductors. But they had never spoken or joked about it outside of the immediate family.
Quil was beginning to vibrate. Alison deduced it wasn't a happy vibration. He wasn't saying anything, so she rambled on in response to his second question.
"And Emanuel will always be my number one favorite bodyguard, no matter what. Even… even though I didn't really know him very long and he was always pretty grumpy with me. Because… well because…" she swallowed as Quil nodded ominously, signaling for her to continue, "because it's just not possible for anyone else to ever best the bodyguard who got… err… killed… protecting me." She whispered the last part as softly as she could. She knew he'd still heard.
She wasn't sure whether she should be relieved or more concerned when Quil's feral yellow eyes suddenly squeezed shut. Alison made a mental note to be sure she and Bennett never joked about any of her past abduction or stalking episodes in front of Quil. Given he was so goofy and easygoing, she felt an undeniable measure of disappointment at the notion Quil might never be able to laugh with them at the twistedly humorous anecdotes and side stories she and Bennett concocted about her kidnappings. It made her feel strangely… judged.
Perhaps she and Bennett were just sick. It really wasn't funny. She knew that. Just as she knew she would forever feel guilty for Emanuel's death. But she had to go on living. Perhaps Quil didn't yet realize how life's most horrific tragedies could sometimes over time provide the greatest wellsprings for comedic, cathartic relief.
"Quil, it was all a really, really long time ago!" she threw the words out desperately. It was sort of the truth. "I told you I'd been stalked by weirdos and psychos my whole life, remember?" she kidded like a moron. She'd always been good at burying herself. "I think… I think that's why maybe… I have some anxiety issues… y'know?"
He began audibly breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Crap. She knew she had to distract him somehow. It was just too nice of a bathroom for him to phase and destroy it. So she did the first thing she could think of. She tore her bra off, grabbed his trembling right hand and pressed it over her naked left breast. His eyes shot open. They were still glowing. For a mad second she feared she'd made the situation worse as a low growl rumbled up through his chest. But she'd gone too far to backpedal now.
"It really helps…" her voice was barely a whisper, "to soothe my anxiety… when you… do that thing with your hand over my heart." She paused, forcing herself not to shrink away from his glowing eyes smoldering right through her. "Could you…? Could you try doing it now? Please? I…I'm feeling just a little anxious…"
Well if that wasn't an understatement. They could both feel her heart galloping beneath Quil's palm. Slowly his eyes traveled down from her face, over the skin of her neck and collarbone to the flesh of her exposed breasts.
She'd figured out he was a boob man. Unfortunately for him, she didn't have a whole lot to offer in that department. Which only increased the irony in her mind of the fact he'd imprinted on a flat chested girl like her rather than a busty bombshell like Lena.
"I'm an 'A' cup," she supplied unnecessarily. He was just staring at them, his hand held perfectly still over her left breast, exactly as she'd placed it. "They're super small," she added. "Honestly, sometimes I'm not sure why I even bother to wear a bra," she tittered shrilly. "Silly, right?"
If she was honest, she'd found herself irrationally more nervous and embarrassed about Quil seeing her naked breasts than she'd been apprehensive over the prospect of him watching her orgasm at Lena's tongue. Although she couldn't imagine why she should care either way if he found her breasts lacking or disappointing. It wasn't like she wanted him to be attracted to her. Not really. Likely it only stemmed from her vanity and ego.
She was on the verge of panicking when she felt his thumb brush lightly over her nipple. Then it brushed back again. And again. It was such a small, subtle stroking movement she barely felt it, and yet she felt it everywhere. Both of her nipples puckered to life. "Oh, Lordy…" she gasped as the rapid beat of her heart was eclipsed by the pulse thrumming to life between her legs where slick moisture was beginning to gather so quickly she felt she was liable to dehydrate within minutes if this kept up.
She opened her mouth to say something, but forgot whatever it was she'd intended as his other hand settled around her ribcage and drew her up against him. His muscled shoulder blocked her line of vision as his head bent to her ear.
"They're fucking perfect," he swore. There was no question what he referred to as both of his hands began stroking and massaging her chest, rolling her taut nipples between his fingers, bringing her whole body screaming to life in the process.
She was moaning almost continuously, tilting her chest up to meet his exploring hands whose strokes were becoming just the right amount of rough mixed with gentle. She pressed her pelvis into him, searching for some friction to ease her tormented little nub practically demanding satisfaction. Blasted clitoris of hers had always been such a shameless little tart. With the right hands and a simple three-word compliment that mini hussy between her thighs was completely sold, overly eager to lie down and spread 'em.
His hot breath tickled her neck. Fuck, she wanted him to kiss her!
She wanted him to rip her undies off and drill her into the wall with that scary hard power tool of his that was now pushing against her lower belly, causing her to gasp aloud and further soak her ruined panties.
She knew he would do it if she asked him to. And she felt certain he was completely capable of fucking her splendidly senseless. Hell, the way her slutty clit was reacting, she might even ask his wolf to join in to make it an even numbered foursome with Lena.
Instantly she began laughing hysterically at the absurd visual of them imparting their sacred Quileute tribal legends to Lena for the sake of bringing Quil's golden-eyed wolf in on the action. She wasn't sure how Lena might take to the whole concept of beastiality though.
Oh, shit. She was chuckling embarrassingly now like some inexperienced stoner.
Quil drew away from her suddenly, dropping his hands to his sides and putting far too much empty air between their flushed bodies for her liking. She coughed and choked as the last bubbling stoner laughter caught and died in her dry throat.
Quil's face was turned toward the bathroom door. When he looked back to her his irises were a deep, soothing, and very human, brown. "Lena's found your vibrator," he announced matter-of-factly. "We should get out there before you miss out on all the fun."
She nodded in agreement and darted for the door, beyond embarrassed about what had just happened; rationalizing it had been necessary in order to distract him from phasing, telling herself it had played out exactly as she'd intended it.
As her hand touched the doorknob, Quil came up behind her, pulling her somewhat roughly against his front as he banded an arm around her waist. The opposite forearm pressed diagonally across her chest, his hand reaching up to grip her shoulder and haul her naked back against his solid, smooth chest. For a moment Alison knew panic and slight claustrophobia as his arm muscles flexed and his warm body pushed hers forward, trapping her between himself and the door.
But then he nuzzled her neck reassuringly. His lips pressed kisses from the tip of her shoulder to her cheek and his hand at the front of her shoulder brushed down over her breast to find it's resting place against her heart again. She felt heated all over. Her breathing evened out. She let her eyes close and focused on the warmth building in her belly, the fire undeniably licking to an inferno between her thighs as he held her in this proprietary embrace, his lips and hands possessing her skin as if they had every right to, as if she'd be out of line to dare say otherwise.
"Anything coming for you has to go through me now." He'd growled the words so softly she questioned at first whether she'd actually heard or imagined them. She wasn't sure she'd even been meant to hear. The tone in which he'd spoken was so aggressive and venomous it was in stark contrast to the comforting way he was holding her now. Perhaps he'd intended to reassure himself? Then his arms contracted around her so tightly she was momentarily at a loss for breath.
"Quil," she gasped, her nails digging into the bicep attached to his arm that seemed to be constricting her lung capacity.
"Mine," he growled hotly against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, refusing to relinquish or loosen his grip. Again his tone seemed to challenge her right to deny his, while at the same time even her stoned mind recognized she didn't believe Quil would ever hurt her, ever take anything from her she didn't willingly give. She inhaled deeply as the realization struck her that she still could breathe normally; that he wasn't holding her too tightly after all… that she was fine with being held this closely to him… that truer to fact was… she liked it.
She welcomed it. Somehow he was crowding her person without crowding her, invading her space without it feeling invasive, overwhelming her emotions without overwhelming her. She must truly be wasted, she concluded.
Wasted and all kinds of crazy, frantically horny that she'd just let a huge naked man who was half canine squeeze her and growl some freakishly possessive monosyllable like a damn Neanderthal and she wasn't even reaching for her Hello Kitty tranquilizer gun!
They emerged from the bathroom just in time to find the naked goddess Lena spread out on her back on the king-sized bed, writhing in orgasm as she worked Alison's favorite vibrator between her thighs.
To Alison it seemed as if the moon and stars had magically aligned to create this most sacred, beautifully sensual moment in time that she was blessed among all other mortals to bear witness to. To Quil it felt as if his dick had grown so hard and heavy he was now in possession of a third leg. And if he didn't get around to pounding out the biggest erection of his life soon he was going to seriously fucking lose it.
With that in mind he took Alison by the hand and drew her over to the bed, nudging her until she took the hint and crawled up onto the mattress and over to Lena. He was close to blowing the whole deal watching her cute ass in her little cheeky lace underwear sway side to side in the air as she crawled shyly overtop of Lena, pausing just a moment to deliver some sort of polite, post-coital pleasantry that Quil's brain found completely unnecessary to register and chose to ignore in favor of focusing on the action of Alison's tongue as it dipped and disappeared between Lena's milky thighs to lick up the fresh evidence of her orgasm.
For one epiphanous moment everything in the world made perfect sense to Quil Ateara V. The meaning of his life became clear and he finally understood why his wacky great grandfather ROQ had dedicated himself to the study and teaching of their sacred Legends for all of these years. Those holy fucking Spirit Warriors were goddamn geniuses! And he knew, as surely as he knew his third leg had just done the impossible and swelled another half inch bigger, that he would never be able to doubt the wisdom of those crazy dead dudes ever again.
A/N – I swear to the Spirit Warriors, EVERYONE gets to come in the next installment, in which Quil gives pointers on licking twat, a team effort brings Alison to orgasm, Lena enjoys the penis jackpot she's got coming to her, and Quil's third leg finally gets its own release!
I seriously just haven't had a solid, uninterrupted minute to sit down and edit in the last two weeks until this afternoon, and this is all I could get through. I'm also anxious to get the next WW chapter, Catching Reverb, finished. It's quite possibly my favorite chapter yet. Thanks for reading & reviewing! Have a fantastic week. ;)