Page 46 of Memphis Heat

They both shuddered when Jarod covered her with his larger body, entering her with one swift, hard stroke, settling himself so deep his balls slapped her with each hard, hot stroke.

Butch kissed Regan over and over, his tongue slipping between her lips as he longed for his cock to do with her cunt.She clung to him, returning his passion with her own, stroking his thick shaft and positioning it at her entrance.

“I need you, Butch,” she whimpered.“Need you so bad…”

Was there anything sweeter than one mate calling to another?With a little growl, Butch thrust inside Regan, gripping her hip and hooking her leg around his waist.

All around them, the sounds of flesh meeting flesh filled the night, the musky sweet scent of sex floating all around them.Each tasted their mate, savored the sweet music of their cries of passion and lust.

All around the little clearing, wolves in their human form lost themselves in each other, needing the release only their mates and packmates could bring.The moon broke from behind the clouds, bathing them in its ethereal light as, one after another, the pack came, howling their ecstasy.

“Hell of a night,” Jarod muttered as he sank to his knees, Belle cradled in his arms.“But damn, what a way to forget…”

“An even better way to remember,” Remmy offered.

Only the pack could understand.They celebrated loss as they celebrated life, with the sharing of their love.

* * *

“Looks like the site mop-up’s complete,” Lt.Commander Snorrasan commented.

“Just read the report from the cleanup crews.Looks like everything’s accounted for,” Colonel Roberts, the district commander, agreed, but he didn’t sound like he was celebrating a victory.“We lost some good men out there today.”

“We didn’t lose the city,” Agent Miller put in.“And we could have.”

“I don’t even want to think about what that quantity of HEU could have done in the wrong hands.”Roberts closed the report and dropped it into his file drawer.“The world’s getting more complicated, my friends, and there are fewer of us Old-Worlders left to clean up the messes.”

Snorrasan poured three fingers of whiskey into three double-shot glasses.“I used to think that mattered.Bloodlines, parentage, where we all came from.But I’ve seen too many atrocities committed in the names of the righteous few over the last five centuries to buy all that anymore.This crop, these wolves, turned or not, they’re a fierce pack, and loyal.They believe in the Old World ideals, but without the corruption greed and power can bring over the years.They’re cops first, lawmen, like us, no matter how strong their pack instincts are.I’m beginning to think they’re a better breed.And if their mixed blood means they don’t live to be half a millennium old, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

“Here’s to lawmen,” Miller said, raising his glass in an old-fashioned toast.

“To lawmen.”

“To lawmen.”

Three glasses clinked, and the colonel tossed his whiskey down with a satisfied sigh.

“I’m not sure they need us here any more.Maybe it’s time to pass the reins to a new generation.”

“We’ll move on again, but not just yet.”

“Well, when we do, Bill, pick a name I can fucking spell.”

Snorrasan snorted.“It suits me.Care for another, Doc?”

“Ah, hell, Wyatt, just pass me the damn bottle.”