Page 131 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

Their pleasure at my response was like a physical caress, warming me from the inside out. Through the bond, I could feel theirhunger building, their need to complete the claiming in the most primal way possible.

“The marks are renewed and strengthened,” Marcus’ voice was a low growl that seemed to resonate not just in the room, but deep within my chest, vibrating through the bond we now shared. “Now, for the final claiming.”

Marcus and Derek lifted me off the stone platform with surprising gentleness. Caleb was at my side in an instant, his hand finding mine as if he couldn’t bear not to touch me.

“Is this the part where I get carried over the threshold?” I teased, my voice steady despite the wild dance of my pulse.

Derek’s laugh was a low rumble against my skin. “Only if you promise to behave,” he warned, but the twinkle in his amber eyes told me he expected anything but.

Caleb snorted. “Since when does our mate behave? He’s been giving us lip since day one.”

I grinned up at Marcus, whose arms were securely around me. “I’ll have you know my lips are very well behaved. They only go places they’re invited.”

Marcus led the way, his grip firm yet careful on my arm. We moved toward a section of the wall that looked no different from the rest—until Marcus pressed his hand against it. A hidden door swung open, revealing a room that took my breath away.

The space was a testament to luxury and sensuality. Rich tapestries hung on the walls, their scenes of ancient forests and moonlit lakes bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight. A massive four-poster bed dominated the room, its silk coverlets reflecting the light with a soft, inviting shimmer.

“Fancy,” I managed, trying to mask how affected I was. “Do you have a special room for every occasion?”

“Only the important ones.” Caleb grinned, his hands still possessive on my hips.

Marcus’ eyes traced over the dried blood on my skin from the ritual. “We should clean up first,” he said, his gaze raking over me with a heat that made my pulse quicken. “We can’t possibly claim you with blood on your skin… unless that’s your thing?”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, a wicked smile curving my lips. “While I’m all for exploring new… avenues,” I said, my voice dropping to a sultry purr, “I think I’ll draw the line at blood play.”

A low rumble of laughter escaped Marcus, his eyes darkening with desire. “As you wish, little mate.”

They led me to an adjacent bathroom that was just as opulent as the bedroom. A large sunken tub big enough for all four of us took center stage, while a walk-in shower with multiple showerheads promised a different kind of drenching.

The en suite was another realm entirely—marble and glass and steam rising like mist over enchanted waters. The shower was large enough for an entire football team, which was good because with these three it felt like I was dealing with their combined size and presence.

As we stepped under the spray, the warmth of the water was nothing compared to the heat that radiated from the brothers’ bodies. I reached for the soap, thinking I should at least pretend to have some dignity left, but Marcus caught my wrist, staying my hand.

“Let us take care of you,” he said, his voice a silky command that had my pulse doing the cha-cha.

I nodded, entrusting myself to their care—a phrase that would have been unthinkable just weeks ago. How quickly we adapt when hot werewolves are involved. Marcus took the soap from me, lathering his hands before he began to wash me with firm, confident strokes. His hands moved over my shoulders, down my chest, my stomach, and lower, until every inch of me was clean and tingling with desire. If this was their idea of “cleaning up,” I was going to get dirty a lot more often. Possibly daily. Maybe twice daily.

Marcus’ arms came around me from behind, his hands splaying across my stomach as he pulled me back against his hard, wet body, his erection pressed into the small of my back.

His lips found the side of my neck, his kiss hot and demanding. I moaned, my head falling to the side to grant him better access as my own arousal spiked.

“Still think your lips are well behaved?” he murmured against my skin.

Caleb stepped closer, his fingers threading through my wet hair as he tilted my head back to claim my mouth in a deep, searing kiss. His lips were demanding, his tongue sweeping against mine in a rhythm that mimicked the act we were building toward. His clever fingers found my nipples, teasing the sensitive buds until they were hard peaks that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my groin.

“You’ve got quite the talented mouth yourself,” I managed to get out between ragged breaths.

And then there was Derek, kneeling before me like I was some kind of deity to be worshipped. His hands were warm and sure on my thighs as he coaxed them apart. His gaze was fixed on mine as he leaned forward, his breath ghosting over my aching cock before his tongue darted out to taste me.

“Still feeling sassy?” Derek rumbled from below, his hand wrapping around my rapidly hardening length, stroking with maddening precision.

I gasped, my hips jerking forward instinctively as pleasure shot through me. Derek’s laugh was a low, satisfied sound that vibrated against my sensitive skin, sending another wave of arousal coursing through my veins.

They worked in tandem, each touch, each kiss, each caress building on the last until I was dizzy with need. My breath came in short, sharp pants, my heart racing as they reduced me to nothing more than a mass of nerve endings, each one screaming for release.

Marcus’ hand slid lower, wrapping around my cock and stroking in time with Derek’s rhythmic sucking. Caleb’s lips found mine again, his kiss deep and possessive as he swallowed my moans.

I was lost in a sea of sensation, each wave crashing over me with more force than the last. My usual snark had abandoned ship, leaving behind only incoherent gasps and embarrassing whimpers. If I’d known supernatural claiming involved this level of pleasure, I might have asked more questions when I first arrived in Cedar Grove instead of trying to sell the cottage as fast as humanly possible. Mom definitely left this part out of her “be careful” warnings. I could feel their desire through the bond, a mirror of my own—raw and real and almost painfully intense, like someone had cranked my sensitivity up to eleven and broken off the dial.

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