by Eve Langlais
Looking into the mirror, she couldn’t believe her appearance. Eyes bright, cheeks flushed, her lips swollen and red from kisses, she appeared a woman in lust-and so totally in love. Odd how she could so easily admit that to herself now, and not just for one man, but two. Mitchell, with his staid ways but simmering passion whom she adored for so long because of his fierce, protective love for his family and friends. And Alejandro with his light-hearted humor, smoldering eroticism, and way of putting her at ease.
She knew what would happen when they got back to her place. Not cleaning, that was for sure, unless his tongue on her pussy lapping at her honey counted. But beyond the sex, she would claim him, and he would claim her. They’d tie themselves together, a love triangle with her as the connecting point. She only hoped she could make it work and keep them both happy.
Wandering back to the table, and her sensual cat, her steps slowed as she saw a pair of women surrounding Alejandro. The interest in their eyes and the tilt of their bodies let her see their blatant interest in her man. Even worse, they were freakn’ gorgeous. Tall, lean with cascading blonde hair and curves that made her feel fat in comparison.
I can’t compare with them. A part of her knew she was letting jealousy and insecurity dig its claws in, but seriously, even that knowledge couldn’t change the fact Francine would never have that type of model look. Could she let Alejandro bind himself to her forever knowing she’d probably get even chubbier after they had babies? Would he even want her? How could she…
Turning abruptly, not even excusing himself to the chattering women, he smiled at her, and only her, his eyes lighting up. He held out his hand. “There you are, baby. Are you ready to go home?”
Was she? He never even spared the other women a glance when they strutted off in a huff. The expression in his gaze screamed, “Trust me.” She remembered something her grandmother once said, and it had struck her odd at the time but now made so much sense; “Love is taking a leap of faith.”
And oh, how she loved the man before her. She extended her hand and he clasped it, drawing her into him.
As if he’d read her doubts and insecurities, he murmured, “No one can compare to you, baby. Let me show you.”
She nodded her head and let him lead her from the restaurant. They climbed into his car, a boring four door Intrepid, so unlike his persona, that she had to ask him, “Why the grown up sedan?”
“Big backseat.”
His words penetrated and she slapped his arm, jealousy making her speak without curbing her tongue. “You’d better get it steam cleaned.”
“What?” He peered over at her, saw her lips set in a mulish line, and laughed. “You thought I- Never mind, it’s obvious what you thought, but that’s actually not what I meant. Until you, I never liked sleeping with a woman and sometimes I was a little too tipsy to drive. So, the big back seat doubled great as a bed for the times I need to sleep one off before driving home.”
“Oh.”
“Ha. I’ve rendered her speechless and I didn’t even have to put something in your mouth to do it.”
“Thought about ways to gag me, have you?”
“The entire time I was gone,” he admitted with no shame.
“I’d hate for you to go on wondering,” she replied saucily. The desire she’d kept under control through lunch, since the moment he’d returned actually, took over. She wanted Alejandro, needed him. Needed to feel his touch. Needed his love. Need to claim, her wolf added pacing her mind, impatient to make this man theirs.
Leaning over, she unzipped his pants, her hand delving in the opening to stroke his semi-hard cock through his briefs.
“This is probably a stupid question, but what are you doing, baby?”
“I am going to blow you,” she stated calmly, bending over further until her face hovered over his lap. Commuters in other vehicles didn’t matter-let them watch. The fact he drove and they courted danger couldn’t stop her-they’d heal. The raging fire inside her demanded action, and she obeyed.
“But the traffic… Aren’t you…Aaahh.” He ended his feeble protests on a sigh as she pulled him free and sucked him into her mouth. Up and down, she worked his shaft, her lips pulled taut over his girth, her teeth lightly grazing his skin. The more she suctioned, the more his cock hardened, the fat vein on the underside pulsing erratically against her tongue. Oh to taste his essence, to make him lose control.
Faster and faster, she bobbed, only vaguely noticing the car stopped. Impatient hands pulled her up. Alejandro’s lips found hers and latched on for a scorching kiss. The same urgency that imbued her came through in his embrace. His lips slid over hers, devouring, sucking, tasting, his tongue melding with hers until she didn’t know where one began and the other stopped.
That wasn’t all he did, though. His hand crept up her thigh, rubbing against her core through the fabric of her slacks, making her moan against his mouth. Wet, so fucking wet.
Heart pounding madly, sex throbbing deliciously, she could only moan incoherently, straining against the hand that stroked her, begging for a more intimate touch.
Sensing her need for more, he unbuttoned her pants and slid his hand in. Fingers slid through her curls to find her clit and rub it. She gasped against his mouth, her hips jerking as her body reacted to his caress.
“Aren’t you supposed to be driving?” she panted, wondering with a distant humor if they were stopped in traffic with an audience. How exciting.
“I found us a parking garage.”
“A what?” She allowed herself a quick glance around, noting they were in a fluorescent lighted area, with cars parked all around them.
“I need you, Francine.” He said the words in a rough voice, his urgency clear in his eyes and tone.
“Then let’s put that back seat of yours to good use.” She managed to squeeze between the front seats into the back, but when he would have followed, his bigger frame got caught. She couldn’t help the husky giggle as he cursed and squirmed, unable to fit himself through the small space.
And of course she didn’t help matters. Cupping her breasts, she stroked her thumbs over erect peaks that strained against the fabric of her top. “Hurry, Jag. Hurry and get back here before I take care of myself.” She coasted a hand down her body and slid her hand into the opening of her pants, right into her panties and cupped her moist sex. She moaned, not just at the heat of her pussy, but the wild light in his eyes.
In a flash, he’d pulled himself out of the wedge between the front seats and got out of the car. Opening the rear passenger door, he hesitated before entering. With his pants already undone and his cock straining through the opening, he was the picture of a male out of control. And she’d done that. What a heady feeling.
He pushed his jeans down around his knees before clambering in. Francine, already sprawled lengthwise on the seat, held her arms out for him. He fell on her, his mouth hungry for a kiss, his hands impatiently yanking at her slacks, tearing them the rest of the way down.
The windows steamed up as they embraced and stroked, frantic in their need, desperate to reach that blissful peak.
“Now, Jag, I need you.” She hiked a leg up, looping her calf over the driver seat, spreading herself for him. He wasted no time, driving his cock into her moist core, his hard thrust filling her up so deliciously and satisfying the part of her that had missed him so much.
“Oh fuck, baby. I need you so freakn’ much,” he growled as he pumped. “Those days without you were pure torture,” he panted as he claimed her with his cock.
Her fingers dug into his back as she arched into his thrusts, her own desire just as great. “I love you, Jag, so much it almost hurts. I want you forever.” Would die without him in her life. Hell, she’d probably expire if she didn’t come soon as well.
“I’m already yours,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “And now the world will know it too.” With those words, he bit her, his incisors sinking into her flesh, marking her, claiming her as his. His woman.
His mate.
Francine screamed as the sense of connection, the rightness of his act roared through her, triggering her climax. Her body heaved and convulsed around and against his, but she didn’t lose sight of the important thing she had to do. Make him ours, her wolf whispered.
“My turn,” she murmured. Alejandro released her skin, but not before giving her new mark a lick. Still pumping into her, his cock pulsed, and she felt the tension in his neck against her lips as he fought to hold on. She shattered his control to hell when she bit him back. Now, you belong to me.
With a roar, he came inside her, murmuring her name over and over. “Francine, Francine, fuck, how I love you.”
Not exactly Shakespearean poetry, but still a beautiful declaration she’d treasure forever.
And it would, of course, happen in the backseat of a car.
Chapter Thirteen
Alejandro couldn’t stop grinning. He’d bound himself to one woman for life, and by damn, he’d never felt happier. He held Francine’s hand all the way home. People talked about mating and the fever. They made it sound like some big deal. How right they were, and wrong because it transcended big deal into freakn’ awesome and unbelievable, yet so perfectly right.
Of course, he wished he’d chosen a more romantic locale to claim his mate-the back seat of his car in an underground garage not exactly his first place choice-but still, it was the end result that mattered. I am mated.
Sure, he knew that the mating itself only covered a part of it. The bigger task now remained in making his claim, along with Mitchell’s, work in harmony lest they upset Francine. For his part, he didn’t foresee a problem. His openness about sexuality meant he could accept different forms of sexual pleasure. While sharing had never before been high on his list of things to do-unless it involved two women-now that he found himself in the position where he had to share with another man, he didn’t find himself as averse to it as he would have thought. Seeing Mitchell kissing Francine earlier didn’t trigger jealousy. Arousal, yes, but no urge to thump the other male into submission. Would he feel the same way if he came across Mitchell sinking his cock into Francine?
Judging by his hardening shaft, he’d enjoy that visual stimulation. He also knew from small hints that Francine wouldn’t mind it as well, but how to bring Mitchell on board?
He pondered that dilemma as they showered together, making love slowly on her new king-sized mattress. He turned the problem over in his mind as he helped Francine finish cleaning up and rearranging the new furniture when it arrived. He’d not come up with a solution once Mitchell arrived with dinner.
Without even sparing him a glance, the wolf swept Francine into his arms and kissed her, surely smelling and tasting Alejandro on her and seeming determined to mask that fact with his own scent. Alejandro fought a grin as he took the bags with the Chinese dinner and pulled out the cartons to set them on the breakfast counter.
“Well hello to you too,” he finally heard Francine say when Mitchell let her up for air.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d enjoy, so I brought a little of everything. I assume the cat is staying for dinner?”
“Yes, I am, just like I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Mitchell froze in the process of grabbing utensils. “But you had her this afternoon. I thought tonight would be my turn.”
“Okay, hold on. Before you both turn my nicely cleaned house into a war zone, Mitchell, Jag has to stay here, he’s got nowhere else to go, and as my mate, his place is with me.” Before Mitchell could protest, she held up her hand. “Just like as my other mate, you should stay here too, if you want. As to the whole taking turns thing, what are the chances of you both working on it amicably?”
Alejandro grinned. “I’m easy.”
“So the whole world has heard,” Mitchell replied snarkily.
“Care to see me in action and find out what the buzz is about? Maybe you’ll learn something,” he replied, unable to help himself. Mitchell’s nostrils flared, but it wasn’t entirely in anger. Interest smoldered for a moment there too.
“Pervert. I agreed to this three-way only because Francine wanted it. As far as I’m concerned, you could fuck off.”
“I get better results when I fuck on, or in.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Yes, Francine’s happiness, which I might add, you’re fucking with. Leave the jealousy at the door.”
“I’m in perfect control, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure I get my fair share of time with her. Just because you’ve already moved in doesn’t mean you should get more of her time.”
Francine waved her hand between them. “Um, hello. Living, breathing object of discussion sitting right here. Mitchell, are you saying you’re going to be staying at your parents still?”
“What else do you expect me to do? I’m not sharing a bed with the cat even if you’re in it.”
“But it’s a king-size,” Alejandro quipped. “More than enough room.”
Mitchell glared at him.
“Listen, what if I moved my office and scrapbooking crap from the spare room and made it into a second bedroom? Then on the nights I spend with Jag, you can still be here so I can see you in the morning.”
Mitchell didn’t say anything for a moment, and Alejandro wanted to punch him as Francine’s face fell.
His jaw tense, Mitchell finally nodded in agreement. “Fine. We’ll see how that works. But if you don’t mind, I’d like for us to look for a bigger house. Somewhere we won’t be on top of each other all the time.”
Reaching out a hand, Francine covered Mitchell’s. “We’ll make this work,” she said softly.
A vow Alejandro silently repeated to himself. No matter what Mitchell did or said, he’d have to keep his cool. Francine already looked torn at the situation, an unneeded stress caused by Mitchell, who couldn’t handle his jealousy.
He’d better get over it or I just might have to beat the little green monster out of him. Or…tempt him by tying the bastard up and making love to Francine in front of him until he’s overcome with desire and forgets all about his foolish notions of not sharing.
He liked the second option a lot as a matter of fact.
* * * *
Despite Mitchell’s ornery nature, they slipped into a routine, a scheduled one that made Alejandro want to bang his head off a wall. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he got to sleep-very little-with his darling Francine. Mitchell got Tuesdays, Wednesday and Saturday nights, with the weekend daytime spent doing together activities like laundry, housework, or hiking. Sundays were Francine’s day of rest and as an added maddening bonus, included family dinner with Mitchell’s family. The only saving grace was watching the family dynamics at work.
Alejandro revised his earlier opinion that his family was more chaotic. One food fight at Mitchell’s parent’s house, taught him otherwise.
With them working during the day, and only meeting up at dinner, they spent the hours during the week before bedtime conversing, not as stiffly as in the beginning, especially once Mitchell realized Alejandro was a sports fanatic. Of course, it took the dog some soft pleadings on Francine’s part to accept her sitting between them on the couch when they watched television. Alejandro knew he should not antagonize the fragile peace during these moments of truce, but whenever Mitchell got up to get them a beer or hit the bathroom, he had a tendency of making sure to have his tongue meshed with Francine’s before the dog came back. Mitchell never said a word when that happened, although his jaw would tighten and he’d sit stiffly for a bit. Until Alejandro left the room that was, then he’d come back to find the wolf all over Francine, rubbing his scent into her, flashing him a triumphant smile that made their mate shake her head.
“Like a fucking chew toy,” she’d mutter. But so long as they didn’t come to physical blows, she let them handle their marking of territory their way. Alejandro found the situation kind of amusing, especially since he knew Mitchell enjoyed watching him
with Francine, and while he’d spent a few nights at his parents the first week of their arrangement, he now stayed home the nights Alejandro made Francine scream in passion. And if he were to guess, Mitchell did the same thing Alejandro did when he heard the moaning start. Got the lube out of the drawer and fisted himself.
But he knew things couldn’t go on the way they were. This clear division of territory wore on poor Francine, although she never said a word of protest, unwilling to rock the tentative boat.
Things came to a head about a month after they claimed her, and at the Sunday family dinner of all things.
Chris, the family fight instigator, finally lit the match that caused the situation to explode.
“Hey brother, what’s this I hear about you keeping a separate bedroom? Afraid Jag’s cock will put yours to shame?”
Already tense, because Sundays was the day all of them slept alone because of Mitchell, the wolf snapped and dove over the table at his brother. While they rolled around the floor, trading blows, their mother ignoring them as she cleared the table for dessert, Alejandro looked over to Francine and saw her sniffing back tears.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately concerned.
“Nothing,” she cried before jumping up to run from the table.
Moving to follow, he found himself restrained and looked down to see Naomi’s hand on his arm, her nails digging into his arm. “Sit down.”
“But Francine-”
“Will be fine for a minute. Ethan, grab my brother, will you? The stupid one, not the ugly one.”
Her bear shrugged and swooped down to grab a still swinging Mitchell. With a snarl, the wolf righted himself and glared at his sister. “What?”
“Are you done being an idiot? Can’t you see you’re making Francine miserable?”