Under the Alpha's Protection (Steamy Werewolf Shifter Menage Romance)

BOOK: Under the Alpha's Protection (Steamy Werewolf Shifter Menage Romance)
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Under the Alphas
Protection

 

A
s a child, I’m sure you were told about your guardian angel. That’s the heavenly figure that’s always watching over you, guiding you away from danger and caring for your mortal soul from above. It’s a really beautiful thought, but when you get older, it’s one that’s easy to sort of disregard at times. After all, as you mature, and the pressures of the world start to collapse down upon you with the weight of incredible burden, sometimes you might think that maybe the whole thing’s just a story.

 

My grandmother told me about my guardian angel when I was a little girl. She was very insistent that I had one. I don’t remember how old I was when I decided that she was so insistent because my mother had died before I was out of diapers. It was always a pleasing thought, although she was sure to stipulate that my mother was watching me too.

 

I always found that weird. You’d think, if I had one, that it would have been my mother, right? That’s what would have made the logical sense. But my grandmother insisted that it was a separate entity, my angel – always watching over me from nearby, careful to ensure my safety. She said that one day, I’d even meet him.

 

Him
, she would conspicuously tell me. Always made it sound like it was more down to Earth than I would have thought. Like the presence was
actually
rather close by.

 

Whether or not you believe in one, it’s a common story, and you never really expect that you’ll bump into your personal little guardian.

 

You also probably don’t expect to fuck him.

 

~

 

I barely remember the night, now that I think back on it. Grandma was always worried about me coming home from work late at night, wandering the city sidewalks under the dim streetlights. But that’s the kind of life you have when you’re a struggling bartender at a shitty little hole-in-the-wall bar – lots of working late, being shouted at by management because of the inevitable last-minute barhoppers, and walking out the door at 2:45 AM. I knew that I should find something better – but I was eager for the experience, and it was pretty much the only place in walking distance that would take young, inexperienced me onboard. In fact, they were so desperate, and perhaps so divey, that they were willing to take me on under 21 years old.

 

Yeah…that’s right. Almost forgot – it was my birthday. I had just turned nineteen that night. I remember because I was furious about the drunken regular who came in at closing time – Chuck, his name was. He was a total mess after his wife divorced him, and he was always moping around the joint, telling the same sob stories to whomever would listen.

 

‘Whomever’
usually wound up being
yours truly.

 

But that night, he was doing his usual schtick when I finally snapped at him. For one brief, beautiful minute, I really gave him an earful – telling him off about always wandering in right before closing time, scaring off the other customers, running up tabs and barely paying them off – the guy was a total mess, and I was sick to shit of him.

 

It looked like he was seriously going to have a change of heart. He looked at me with those drunken, remorseful eyes, and I gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and anticipation…I would love to tell you that I never had to deal with him again, that he took that nugget of passion and made it the foundation for the rest of his life. I’d love to go on about bumping into him on the street, months later, and seeing how much he’d changed. He wouldn’t have recognized me, and I would have only barely recognized
him
, with his clean-shaven face, pressed suit, and renewed confidence.

 

I didn’t have to deal with him again, that much was true. But that’s because he lost his shit, exploded at the manager, and I was fired on the spot.

 

Grumbling angrily as I left – denied my compensation and my tip-out from the two servers who had run the, like, ten tables in the place, I grabbed my jacket and flew out the door in a teary mess.

 

And then waltzed straight into the rest of my life.

 

~

 

My judgment was impaired, but not from alcohol. After all, I didn’t actually sample my wares, being a good little girl. No, I was impaired by that
other
incredibly dangerous force – heartbroken fury. I mean, I didn’t really care that I lost my job. Well, actually, that
did
kind of suck, but more about how shitty my birthday had been. My grandmother had tried her best to improve things, but a last minute surgery by a close, elderly loved one had pulled her attention away a couple of days before. I could see the tears welling up inside her as she had to tell me she was going to miss my birthday, but I was firm that it was just another day to me, that she should see her fallen relative in their time of need.

 

I’d worked another job for a friend that day, waiting tables at some burger place that was a bit short-staffed. I was somewhat of a regular there, and pretty much knew the menu anyway. It meant a lot of improvising, but I spent 11 AM to 4 PM there – well, actually I was there until about 6 PM, because the night guy didn’t show and they had to find someone else on the fly. That gave me about two hours before fleeing to my next job, and without a car, that was a bit of a drag.

 

Still, I wound up with about fifty bucks from the morning. Not so bad. Usually my night intake, given how awful the place was on a weekday. Hell, the weekends weren’t that great either.

 

As I wandered down the city streets, I lost track of how empty they were. Usually, there were at least a few decent lost folks on the pavements, those night owls prowling for a decent time. Not the dangerous ones, just the guys and gals who take to the city at night more than during the sunlit hours. I could respect them. I kind of hated waking up earlier than 2PM as it was.

 

But I was blissfully ignorant of the total lack of people on the sidewalk as I traipsed about, wandering home. Rubbing the tears from my eyes and cursing my birthday, I ducked down the usual alleyway that connected to the next main street over – and just five minutes from home.

 

I didn’t see the guy duck out from the shadows. I didn’t really hear him demand my wallet, or snivel out a few threats. I was so bitterly lost in thought, angry about everything, that he had to physically grab my arm before I knew what was even going on.

 

It was only a brief flash. This classic dreg of humanity was some older guy, obviously a drug addict, sketchy and twitchy as hell. His crazy, rolling eyes were wide as hell. I could distinctly smell a waft of human waste on the guy, the overwhelming, gagging aroma of a guy who frequently pissed himself in his frequent self-medicated comas. His clothes were old, torn, stained with his filth, and he was wrapped in some frayed, disgusting remnant of what might have passed for a trenchcoat under better days.

 

“I said, gimme your cash!” He snarled in a spat of thrown saliva. He’d ripped that maw of decay open long enough to reveal only a third of the teeth he was supposed to have, and the remainder didn’t look exactly promising. “Give. Me. Yer. Fucking. Money. Do I have to spell this shit out or somethin’, you dumb bitch?”

 

Something about the day crumbled inside me. It was as if the dam of my wrath had splintered apart, and the steady, beating wave of mounting fury flew out from behind it. It burst over the sides to absolutely pummel this filthy man-shaped stain of humanity with every ounce of rage that I had.

 

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” I growled with menace in my eyes. Billowing with anger, I struggled to pull myself free from him, but I was drained from the exhaustion of the day.

 

“You fuckin’ bitch! You stupid, fuckin’ bitch!” He growled back, holding my arm with surprising strength for what was basically a walking corpse. “It’s easy! Just
gimme the money!

 

“Suck a dick straight to Hell!” I shouted, pulling free and shoving him. It had been my intention to throw him off-guard and get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, I only spotted the gun he held in his gnarled fingers at the last second, and I heard the
bang!
go off into the night, piercing the silence of the black air.

 

The shock overcame me instantly. I could barely stand, barely hold onto anything as I collapsed backwards against the wall of the alley. He snatched for the pockets of my jacket, desperate to find wherever I stuffed my cash. Without a purse to my name, I typically shoved my folded bills into a money clip that was jammed deep into my boot. He struggled with my clothes for a minute, desperate for a prize to plunder. After a few seconds didn’t reveal anything, he glanced around in a paranoid haze, then spat at me and fled.

 

“Stupid fuckin’ bitch! Didn’t want to hurt you! Could have just given me the fuckin’ money, you dumb bitch!”

 

But I could barely concentrate on him. I reached down to my gut, pulling back fingers drenched in hot blood…
my
hot blood. Somehow, the sight of it made everything even more horrific, and I gagged on my breath as the piercing, burning sensation finally roared to life inside me.

 

I was dying. I was dying on my nineteenth fucking birthday because I was fired, too miserable to pay attention to the streets, and went down the wrong alley at the wrong time.

 

As I started to fade off, I felt my chin being lifted. There was a face here, wrapped in darkness. I could faintly make out a hoodie drawn up around broad shoulders, and a slight growl emanating from the shadowy presence.

 

“Are you my…guardian…?” I managed to whisper, before gurgling. He looked both ways quietly, quickly, before turning back to me again. My head was swimming in darkness now as I murmured the last words before I drifted into the abyss. “Kinda…fucking…late, aren’t you…”

 

~

 

When I finally came to, my eyes didn’t gradually flicker open. I wasn’t aware of other senses, such as the scents of the forest, or the crushing of twigs. The slight wind rustling my skin didn’t pull me awake, nor did any pounding in my head. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? Sort of a gradual thing, and sometimes you feel your other senses filling you in a little bit while you muster the courage. I feel like that’s how it’s supposed to work.

 

No, when I came to, they immediately
snapped
open. At the same moment, right as my eyes were flying open, I felt a storm against me – no, inside me. I saw a roaring flurry of colors as this, this…I don’t know how to describe it. What do I call it? A whirlwind? A maelstrom, maybe? Whatever it was, it was this blinding, fantastic storm that burst within my head, but instead of whipping me into a frenzy or buffeting my emotions around, it oddly
soothed
me.

 

But I couldn’t really focus on it, because I was too busy realizing that I was naked. Naked, with an unfamiliar face caught between my legs, sucking away at my clit.
Why am I turned on? What the fuck – where the hell am I? Who the FUCK is THIS GUY?!

 

I wanted to push him away, to shove him back and just fucking
unload
on him, but my body had gone along without me. My fingers ensnarled into his hair, I couldn’t bring myself to blow up at how creepy, how
weird
this was. Oddly, I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life, and I felt my hips bucking against his face as he lapped away at my juices harder, his eyes lifting up to mine with my sudden interaction.

 

I half-expected the stranger fiercely tonguing my pussy to say something ridiculous, like
Oh, look who’s awake
or something totally patronizing like
Aw, the sleepy-head’s up
. Of course, I would have smacked his shit in a heartbeat and torn off his erection with my bear hands, but instead, he nuzzled down harder, making me gasp deeper.

 

Whoever this asshole is, he’s…incredible at this.

 

When I had come to, my body was already piping along to orgasm – without my permission, despite how much that is
not
supposed to work that way. But that meant most of the work was already done, and I could feel an incredible wave of pleasure rising as he fingered me now, his mouth retreating back to play with my engorged nub, his tongue stiffly teasing my clitoris as the wave crested higher and higher…

 

I gasped out the climax as I rode his face, my enraptured fingers marrying his face to my hips as I felt my spine flicker with a jet of intense fire. My body settled down as the orgasm rode its course and dissipated within a short while, and my nude body relaxed against the ground with a
thud!

BOOK: Under the Alpha's Protection (Steamy Werewolf Shifter Menage Romance)
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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