Page 23 of Tamed Wolf

She giggles at this, and it honestly sounds genuine to my ears, but I’m sure she’s used to drowning in compliments. But thinking of that makes me realize she does this all week, and that all kinds of men get to see her like this, and I really don’t like that at all.

What does it say about me that the first time I come to a strip club, I want to what, abscond with the stripper and throw her in my clothes and see her in my bed and establish some sort of claim on her? Maybe bake some blueberry muffins together? Fuck, I love a good brunch.

I’m fucking delusional.

She’s a little older than us I think, but her body is so fucking curvy and she’s so admirably strong that I get completely lost watching her dance for us. She’s not even onto the lap dance portion yet, but the way my body is reacting to her, you’d think she’s rubbing herself all over me, not a pole.

She makes it safely to the ground and puts her back to the piece of metal that I desperately wish I could shift into, sliding down slowly with her knees out and spread, making eye contact with each of us. I swear to the gods my heart fucking stops.

If I hadn’t already met and lost my fated mate and seen the kid we produced with her, I’d be damn near certain this woman was meant for me.

Maybe they put some sort of hallucinogenic drug in the air? Something that makes anyone watching think that they’ve got a sacred connection, so they’ll tip the women better?

But even as I think that it doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something sad deep in her eyes that I don’t think she’s ever able to fully banish, even when she’s smiling at us like the temptress she is.

“Not often do I get such pretty playthings for the night. Anything special I can do for you gentlemen tonight? I feel like I should be the one paying for the pleasure of your company.”

Brooks snorts. “Flattering, but no fucking way. You’re proof that the gods have favorites. I’m sure you hear this all the time, and I know that other lady said you were the owners’ favorite, but fuck, I can see why. I don’t think anybody else in this club is going to do anything for me after this. You’re stunning, love.”

For the compliment, the woman, Mistress Ryot I guess, heads toward him first.

Brooks goes stiff as a board as she straddles him, looping her arms over his shoulders to hold onto the back of his chair. The music flows seamlessly into another song, her body sliding and twisting to it like she’s the one creating it. I can’t look away.

It looks like she’s whispering sweet nothings into his ear, and I’m so fucking jealous. What I wouldn’t give to have all of her attention, my brothers be damned. It’s like I’m under a fucking spell or something, but I really don’t think I am.

She sends me a wink as she flips around and starts wiggling her ass all over my triplet’s face, his white knuckles and heavy breathing proof that he’s definitely about to blow his load.

Mistress Ryot’s head tips back and exposes her neck, making my mouth water even more and my canines throb. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I have to suffer through her dance with Beckett as well before she can touch me, and it sort of feels like I just won the damn lottery when she straddles me and looks into my eyes. Her voice is low, just for me to hear, and even though I just saw her communicate this way with my brothers, I feel special and sought out.

“What are such fine gentlemen doing out tonight, hmm? Surely, you’ve got a special lady at home that you’ve swept up.”

Her words seem to travel straight to my brain, massaging it. “W-we’re widowers actually. Not to kill the vibe, but yeah. You have no idea how badly we needed something like this. We’re just here with a buddy of ours, but fuck. I had no idea how much I’d be getting out of this.”

Just to add another ‘holy fuck’ to the list, she’s a goddessdamned wolf. It makes sense since Cam’s dads own the place, but like, for some reason the thought of wolves as strippers wasn’t something I even considered.

Yep, I’m in love.

“Is that so?” her hair is down to her waist in long straight layers, black so dark that it shines blue in some of the brighter lights when they pulse. Her cheeks are round, and her lips painted blow job red, her gray eyes looking for something in me I’m dying to give to her.

“Can I just say you smell fucking incredible? Please tell me where you bought your perfume because I’m about to go by stock in the company and live the rest of my life rolling around in it sprayed over everything I own.”

She laughs as her head falls back onto her shoulder, exposing that exquisite column of flesh again.

And the way she’s moving over me is hypnotizing.

“I’m actually not wearing anything right now. What do I smell like to you?”

I groan low in my throat. “That’s just your natural smell? Fuck, woman. How soon can we get married? Is a kid a deal breaker? He’s cute, I promise.”

She laughs again, but it’s more fragile this time. “Not sure marriage is in my cards, but congrats, you’re my first proposal today. You really want to discuss children when my ass is making imprints on your jeans?”

“You make an excellent point. And you smell like a maple bar and a cinnamon roll fucked and had deliciously decadent offspring.”

“There you go talking babies again; I think we know what’s on your mind.”

She flips around and presses her back to my chest, and I have to fight so damn hard to keep my hands from wrapping themselves around her stomach and pulling her into me. “Can you blame me? You’re just so fucking sweet. I didn’t even know women like you existed.”

---