Page 44 of Banished From the Pack

“What’s that?”

“A fight,” he says.

“Why would Ethan pick clothes that would start a fight?”

His eyes make me feel warm and melty, like someone has reached inside my chest and rubbed my heart the way he massaged the goo into my scalp. “Because every guy in town would want to fuck you, plain and simple,” he says. “Ethan and I vowed to protect you, so we’ll happily tear out the throats of anyone who even makes eye contact with you. Got it?”

A shiver coils up my spine at his words, but I’m not afraid. While I don’t want any more throat tearing, it feels like a full belly after a long hunt that the triplets vowed to protect me.

We finish going through the clothes, then pull out the hairbrush, the deodorant, the razors, the shampoo, and the tampons. Holding the box of tampons, I say, “Warrick didn’t know how to use these. Do you?”

Callan’s cheeks go bright red under his scruff. “Is that what he said?”

I nod, and he swallows, making the lump in his throat bob.

“I suppose I could show you,” he says, his voice sounding choked.

A single ding vibrates in the air.

Callan rises from the chair at the table. “First, we get this dye off your chair. Come on back to the sink and lean over it.”

He flips on the water, adjusts the water temperature, and trains it over my hair when I lean over the sink again. Purple water drains down the sink. When it turns mostly clear, he squirts some shampoo on my head and massages it into my scalp. His fingers are like magic, turning me into steamy heat, like dipping in the hot springs. Tingles of pleasure dance through my body, settling into the heat between my legs where Axel pierced me with his cock. But this feels only good, not painful. I sigh and push back against Callan.

His fingers still for a second, but then he pushes forward in response. The hot, rigid bulge of his cock pushes into my behind and sends a throb right into my center. I gasp and push back harder. Callan’s breathing deep, too. Slowly, he begins to rhythmically rock his hips into me. Pleasurable sensations flood my body. I step my feet further apart, wishing he was between my legs like Warrick was on the bike today. I need more.

He flips off the water and rests one hand on the sink on either side of me, pushing me against the edge so hard it bites into my belly. He’s breathing so hard I want to ask if he’s okay, but my throat feels all trembly. Before I can gather my thoughts, his hands slide inside my t-shirt, up my sides, urging my arms up over my head. He tugs my shirt over my head, giving my hair a quick rub-down with the shirt to soak up some of the water. When I throw my hair back afterwards, it hits his shoulder, and he groans again.

“Ah, fuck, Luna,” he murmurs, dipping his nose to the top of my head. His calloused hands run up and down my waistline, stroking his way to the front where he cups my breasts. His cock jerks against my backside, and he sucks in a breath.

The feel of his rough hands gliding across my soft skin fills me with confusing sensations. He pinches my nipples between his fingers, and a quick shock of need yanks tight inside me. Tingles and thrills pulse inside my lower belly. I close my eyes and fall into the pleasure coursing through my bloodstream. My mind goes all dream-like, like gazing at the water bugs as they skitter across the surface of the swamp, or when I’m belly up in my wolfskin in the hot sun.

Without a word, Callan pivots me around. I stand there, gripping the sink to stay upright, feeling dizzy suddenly. He didn’t dry my hair well enough, and my dripping wet locks stick to my shoulders. Cool droplets stream down my face, neck, and torso. Callan is staring at me with eyes that make me want to melt into his arms.

“Oh fuck it,” he says. “A man can only be so strong.” He steps forward, grabbing me roughly and crushing his lips mine. I make a sound of surprise, but he swallows it whole. His slick tongue slides into my mouth, thrusting against mine. I’m too startled to move for a second. But then he reaches for my hand, lifting it and pulling it behind his neck. I raise the other one the same way, clinging to his shoulders while his tongue slides in and out against mine, and the thrilling sensations in my body increase until I’m ready to burst with excitement.

Suddenly, he wrenches his lips away.

“I can’t...”

His forehead drops to mine, and we both breathe hard and heavy. The place between my legs still feels good, but now it aches, too.

“What happened?” I manage.

“That,” Callan says. “Was a kiss.” He reaches behind me, and his hand returns with the deodorant.

I lift my hands high, the way Warrick demonstrated. Callan gazes at me intently for a few seconds, slowly shaking his head while his nostrils flare. His tongue darts across his full lips, back and forth, like he’s waiting for a juicy meal. He takes the top off the deodorant and pushes it up and down my armpits, one at a time.

“This is how you apply deodorant,” he says, his voice a soft rumble.

I nod, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. The creamy sensation of the deodorant stroking my skin feels lovely.

“After you shower, when we’re heading into town, you can put this on,” he says. “When you’re around here, don’t use it. I want to smell your natural essence. Your scent turns me on, Luna. I can smell you right now, how wet you are.” He brushes his nose against mine. “It makes me fucking insane.”

I reach for the shirt, meaning to dry myself more, but he catches my hand and presses it flat on the counter. “I want to smell you, not deodorant. But so-called civilized people like you to mask your scent.”

“Why do they want me to mask my scent?” I say, my breath shallow against his cheek.

“So they don’t get as turned on as I am right now.” He lowers his lips to mine again, and his hands find my nipples.