Trio of Mates
Chapter 33

Zak:

He begins to move, setting a fast, steady pace. I eagerly take all that he gives me, pushing back into him. I m0an loud enough that they must hear me at the packhouse, 15 miles away. But I can’t help it. He feels so f*****g good.

Brandon smacks my a.ss, pulls my hair, and leaves bites down my back and shoulders. I take it all. I love it all. Every time he hits or bites me, I scream, “Yes, Daddy!” “Harder, Daddy!” “F**k me, Daddy!” It spurs him on, making him push faster, harder into me.

Suddenly, he pulls out of me, turning me around. He lifts me up, leaning me against a tree. Brandon puts my legs over his shoulders and re-enters me.

“I want to look at your face when I make you cvm,” he says.

I pull him into a k!ss, full of tongues, l!ps, and teeth. He gr0ans when I svck his bottom l!p into my mouth and bite down. His grip on my h!ps is bruising and the sound of skin hitting skin is almost as loud as my m0ans.

“Touch yourself,” Brandon says. “I want to see how you do it.”

Looking into his eyes, I grab the head of my c0ck, squeezing lightly.

“Tell me what you’re doing. Tell me how it feels,” Brandon says, never losing speed.

“I’m squeezing the head of my c0ck, rolling my palm over the tip,” I say, completing the motions as I say them.

Brandon’s gaze goes between my c0ck and my face, watching me touch myself, but also my reactions to it.

“I grab my d!ck firmly, with short strokes at the top of my shaft.” My voice is breathy. The combination of Brandon inside of me, my hand on my c0ck, talking about what I am doing, and having him watch me so intently is so arousing that I almost cvm right then.

I stop talking, l!cking my l!ps and closing my eyes at all the sensations that are rushing through me.

“Tell me more,” Brandon says. His voice is choppy, like he is holding back his org@sm, his movements inside of me getting sloppy.

“I – I alternate the short strokes at the tip with long strokes down to the base,” I stutter, trying to make coherent sentences. “But if you keep moving like that I’m going to have to change it up.”

“To what?” he pleads. “Tell me.”

“To just my fingers around the head. F**k, Brandon! I’m going to cvm!”

“Yes!” he yells.

At the same time as I cvm, I feel him release inside of me. We scream each other’s names, our voices hoarse and raw.

After a few seconds, Brandon sets me on the ground. I’m still leaning against the tree as he wraps his arms around me. He gives me a sweet k!ss on the l!ps, our breathing still ragged.

We stare into each other’s eyes, our foreheads touching. A smile lights up Brandon’s face and eyes as he looks at me.

“Come on, Alpha. I’ll race you home.”

Charlie:

I felt when Zak left the bed and heard our front door close behind him. He thought I was asleep, and I kind of was. In that half awake, half asleep twilight phase. I rolled over, seeing the note that he left me.

Hey love, Mind’s a mess. Going for a run. Sleep in and I’ll bring up breakfast when I get back.

As much as I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t. Too much had happened last night. I needed to talk to someone. I have friends outside of our small circle, but I can’t really tell anyone about what is going on.

Devin is busy with his mate. Zak is out and Brandon is MIA. No one to talk to.

So, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I hit the weight room. Though all of the leadership live at the pack house, the bottom two floors and the basement are open to the rest of the pack. The basement houses a gym which is the full length of the packhouse, including a sauna, weight lifting room, cardio machines, and a training room in case of bad weather for training our warriors.

At this time, in the wee hours of the morning, there is no one in the gym. I could let all of my frustrations in peace. And without scaring the sh!t out of anyone. Yes, I am a petite female, but I am of a Delta bloodline, am now a Luna, and have been a warrior all of my life. I can lift a lot. Like, a lot a lot. It tends to freak the males of the pack when someone of my stature and gender can lift the weight of a small car as a warm-up weight.

I start with some cardio, running a quick five miles on a treadmill. I have the speakers in the weight room blasting my Spotify playlist. Lizzo, Demi Lovato, Shawn Mendes, and Macklemore accompany me as my feet pound on the rubber of the treadmill belt.

I complete my five miles in about 45 minutes. A little slow for me, but I give myself a break after the horrible sleep that I had last night.

Queen Bae is reminding me that girls run the world as I wrap my hands and strap on some boxing gloves. I walk to the heavy bag, giving it a few test punches to loosen up my shoulders and arms. I complete circuits of jabs, hooks, uppercuts, and crosses, hitting the bag as hard as I possibly can. I work my way around the bag, keeping my feet moving, dancing back and forth. Sweat pours from my face and chest, but I don’t stop until I complete 6 circuits of exercising. I then load up a bar for power clean and presses, lunges, and chess presses. I’m on my fourth circuit when the music volume dramatically lowers. I rack the bar and turn to see my father walking towards me.

“I thought that I’d replace you here,” he says, tossing a towel at me.

I grab it in mid air and begin mopping my face and neck. I accept a water bottle from him, mumbling a quick “Thanks” before guzzling half of the bottle. My dad perches on the weight bench next to mine, his elbows on his knees as he leans forward to look at me.

Dad is as deceptively petite as I am. He is around 5’5” full of lean, compact muscle. His salt and pepper shoulder-length hair matches his neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His rich olive-toned skin makes him appear younger than he is. The only wrinkles on his face are made up of laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, portraying a happy life.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks when I finally put the water bottle down.

“Not much to talk about,” I say, laying back on the weight bench, but not unracking the bar.

“Not about Devin and Xander,” he says, his tone knowing. “I saw Brandon’s face when we left. And I hung around after and saw him running out of the pack house. He’s pissed, isn’t he? He didn’t know, but you and Zak did.”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice resigned to the talk that we are about to have.

“So…” Dad prods when I don’t say anything else.

“So, he was pissed that we kept it from him. He said that we didn’t trust him. That he was nothing but a…” I stop, my chin wobbling. I can’t tell Dad what Brandon really said. Though we knew that Brandon was gay, the only other person outside of our friend group that did was his father. It was a tightly kept secret and I wasn’t allowed to tell my dad. Even though everyone would know in a matter of a few days when Brandon realized that we were his mates, I couldn’t out him without his permission. “He said that he was nothing to us but a liability.”

“Wow!” Dad says, his eyebrows raising to his forehead. “I knew that he took it badly, but I didn’t know he took it that badly.”

I just nod, staring up at the ceiling.

“Com’on. Let’s stretch you out before you get stiff.” Dad pulls down a yoga mat, placing it in an empty spot at the front of the room. I trudge over to the mat and lay down, lifting my right leg into the air. Dad pushes my right leg toward my body while holding my left knee to the mat.

“So what are you going to do, Bear?” Dad asks, using my childhood nickname.

“I don’t know,” I say, letting out a sigh. This allows Dad to push my leg further into my chest and I grunt at the release. “He left, telling us not to follow him and just ran out of the packhouse.”

We switch legs. “Have you tried to link him?”

“Yeah, like five times last night. He’s blocking it,” I say through gritted teeth as Dad works to loosen my hamstrings.

He lets my leg fall to the floor and I cross my left leg over my right, spreading my arms to my sides. Dad pushes my left knee and shoulder further into the mat, deepening the stretch.

“Where’s Zak?” Dad asks.

“He barely slept last night, if at all. He left for a run right before I came down here,” I say. I glance at the clock and add, “About two hours ago. He hasn’t linked me.”

“Have you tried linking him?” Dad asks as we switch sides.

“No. I’ve been trying to keep myself occupied.”

“Why do you think Brandon reacted so strongly?” Dad continues as I roll onto my back and kick one leg up and he pushes it further into my backside.

“He said that he couldn’t believe that we would keep such a big secret from him. I think he was just hurt and reacted with anger. Typical Brandon.”

Dad nods. “He never has been good at dealing with his emotions.”

“No,” I say as we switch again. “He just stopped completely ignoring us and now this sent him over the edge again.”

Dad stands and grabs a foam roller from the floor to rub along my back. “Did you ever think that he might be a bit insecure?”

I grunt as Dad forces the tension from my back and shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, all his friends have found their mates, two of them being each other. Do you think that he might be worried that he won’t replace his mate? He might be feeling worried about being the only one out of all of you that doesn’t replace his mate right away.”

“Maybe,” I say, knowing that isn’t what’s going on at all.

“I think you just have to be there for him. Obviously, Devin is going to be a little busy for the next few weeks, but you and Zak can be there. Especially if he doesn’t replace his mate on his birthday.”

“I don’t know, Dad. I have this strong feeling that he will replace them pretty quickly.”

“I hope so. But if not, just be there for him. Let him cool off for a little while longer, but then go replace him. Don’t leave him alone until he knows how much he means to you guys.”

That actually was good advice, even without Dad knowing what was actually going on. “I think that might work, Dad. Thanks.”

He moves the foam roller off of me and I sit up. I hug him tight.

“Any time, Bear. You know I’m always here for you.” Dad k!sses the top of my head and hugs me back.

Just then, I get a mindlink.