The Gifted 1: Passions Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “As long as we can be sure we’ll have privacy here.” He reached for her hand. “I don’t want anyone else stumbling upon us and getting an eyeful.”

  “That’s not a problem.” Cheri squeezed his hand, grateful for the consideration. One more facet of life here was how prudish everyone liked to appear to be. “This space is protected by magic, and just a thought will prevent us from being seen by anyone.”

  “Well, then, in that case.” Max grinned.

  Cheri laughed her delight when he used his magic to strip them naked and put them on the bed.

  Chapter 11

  Sunshine, dappled by trees, warmed the air. A light breeze brought the scent of freshly fallen rain and the roses Tony had given her, now arranged in a vase on a table beside the bed. The softness of the mattress beneath her and the sensation of the cool, clean sheets added to the mix, but all this was just atmosphere.

  Her focus was wrapped around the men pressed close, their flesh flush with hers. The heat and the scent of them stirred her passion, a passion only they had awakened in her.

  “I could become addicted to you.” Tony kissed his words against her cheeks, her neck, as he moved his mouth down and tasted her body.

  She combed her fingers through his hair and held his head to her breast. She felt his smile just before he suckled her nipple.

  “We were frantic to have you, earlier.” Max turned her face toward him. “Now we just want to feast on you.”

  “I want to feast on you, too.”

  Max grinned. “You can have your way with us in a while. Right now, we want you to just lie there and take it.”

  “Oh, gee.” As if that would be a hardship.

  She’d had sex before coming to this realm, but she’d never made love until that very morning. It was more than the sacred exchange between prospective mates. There was a depth and a richness she never could have imagined. The physical, when intertwined with the emotional and layered with the spiritual, became so much more.

  When Max’s mouth covered hers, she opened to him, saluting his tongue as it swept in and tasted her, commanded her, devoured her. His flavor entered her bloodstream and was already a part of her soul. Her need for him shimmered within her and stirred, reached out to him, to his essence, a twin to the power she’d known and embraced all her life.

  Tony sucked her nipple, the strong pull sending out an urgent message to her clit. She canted her hips, wordlessly and shamelessly begging for more.

  Two hands, one on each side of her body, caressed her skin. Traveling from just below her breasts to the top of her mound, those hands spread heat and excitement, a molten honey of delight that set her ablaze.

  Two fingers stroked, sought, and delved.

  Tony lifted his head from her breast. “We want to watch you go over.”

  Cheri opened her mouth, and then reason fled as their questing fingers found her sweet spot. They fucked their fingers into her, the two men together, a combined effort sexier than she could have imagined. Their heated gazes never left hers, and Cheri felt her arousal begin to climb. Then a thumb took up the same rhythm on her clit as they were using to fuck her, and Cheri’s orgasm burst over her.

  The sharpness of her cry, the strength of her muscles as she bore down and rode the wave, the pure bliss and gush of nectar from her cunt, all were new and thrilling and somehow, somehow in this moment, just not enough.

  “Now I’m going to drink what you just gave me.” Tony slid down her body, spread her legs, and got comfortable between them. The first touch of his tongue on her slit made Cheri whimper. Then he settled his mouth on her pussy and did exactly what he’d said he would.

  Licking and sucking and nipping her intimate flesh with his teeth, he drank her nectar in big sexy gulps.

  Max lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes glittered with lust. He looked down between her thighs then up at her again. “I’m looking forward to tasting you myself. But there’s something else I need right now. I need your mouth on my cock.”

  Just his words had the power to add to her arousal. “Yes. I want to suck your cock.” She’d barely gotten the words out when Max gained his knees then moved up the bed just enough.

  Hard and long, with a tiny drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, his cock called to her with a power all its own. Cheri inhaled deeply, pulling his masculine aroma deep inside. Her mouth actually began to water. He leaned closer, and she nuzzled him, drawing in more of his scent, using her tongue to flick tiny little caresses against his scrotum and the base of his shaft.

  “Suck, woman.”

  The command slithered down her spine, creating all sorts of tiny explosions of lust and pleasure along its way. Cheri opened her mouth and sucked Max’s cock in, taking him deep. His hiss and the grip of his hand on her hair stoked her fires. She sucked as she was sucked upon and the amazing sensations, matched, equal but different, overloaded her senses and shut down her thoughts.

  So she surrendered the ability to think and just reveled. Hot and wet and sexier than hell, the sensation of having her slit, clit, and opening lapped and sucked thrilled her. At the same time the sensation of Max’s hard shaft in her mouth, and the constant tease of those viscous drops of pre-cum fed her arousal, morphing desire into need.

  Greed rose up within her, and she thrust her pussy into one lover’s mouth while she drew the other ever deeper into her own. A hum of power coated everything, wrapped around them, and pulled them higher and higher.

  Spinning, shivering, the electric excitement became like a strike of lightning, lightning that ignited and exalted, tossing her off the cliff of rapture into a cloud of ecstasy. Each spasm of her bliss battered her with pleasure on top of pleasure. Max’s shout as he joined her filled her with pride, and she gratefully swallowed each pulse of his ejaculation.

  Above her, Max struggled to breathe, his hands resting on a headboard that had materialized to answer his need for something to hang on to. He stroked the side of her face, and she released him, licking her lips, drinking down the last drops of his cum.

  Their gazes met, and Cheri felt something shift, something settle, between them.

  “That is the hottest thing, ever.” Tony’s voice drew her gaze. “And now, I’m going to fuck you.”

  Cheri moaned as Tony’s cock impaled her. He stretched her, thrusting hard and fast and deep. The friction of his turgid flesh sliding in and out of her pussy created a heat like no other. He added a little extra swirl to each plunge that rubbed his groin against her clit.

  He slid a hand under her bottom and pulled her tight against him. “Give me your mouth, baby. Suck my tongue like you did Max’s cock.”

  Completely incapable of denying him, Cheri wrapped herself around him and gave him all he demanded, all that she was. Her tongue stroked his while her mouth suckled. Each movement in and out brought them closer together and closer to the peak. Cheri clenched her inner muscles and knew, when he groaned, that she pleased him. Her climax hovered just out of reach. Then she felt fingers pinch her nipple, a hard, biting pinch. Cheri released Tony’s mouth and cried out as she came in a torrent of ecstasy.

  Enthralling, electrifying, she relished the thrill of spasms, even as she sensed Tony right there with her—physically, spiritually, as he held her hand in his and threw them both off the precipice.

  * * * *

  “Those two Latents have to die!”

  Vincent watched his brother pace in the sitting room of their suite onboard the Eugenia. His twin’s anger was so fierce Vincent was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his ears. This display of emotion wasn’t like Emilio at all.

  That made Vincent suspicious as hell.

  The plan they’d put into play had been Emilio’s plan, and it had gone to hell. In the next heartbeat Vincent reconsidered that thought. No, this is worse than hell could ever be.

  He wanted to ask his twin if he, too, felt a depletion in the power within him, but he held his tongue. He’d always trusted his brother as much as he’d
trusted anyone, and that was saying a lot. A Fortuna trusted no one outside the family, and within it, he trusted sparingly.

  The fact that Vincent no longer trusted his twin, as he had just days before, told him a wealth of things.

  Though twins started out in childhood acting and feeling as one, by the time they reached their middle years, usually they’d drifted apart. He and Emilio had just celebrated their thirty-fifth birthday, and Vincent had experienced the beginning of the separation between them a few weeks before.

  Only one of us can inherit Father’s place.

  It was the way of warlocks and part of the family lore his father had imparted only to him, as the oldest—to have a womb mate, often, and to turn on that mate when it came time to inherit. Sometimes nature made the choice, as it had with their Uncle Remis. He’d gone crazy, so his father had enjoyed an easier path to inheritance.

  Vincent had been silent too long. Rather than stay standing, he made himself comfortable in one of the plush chairs the cruise line provided. Needing to give a display that all was well, he waved his hand, secretly relieved when a tray with two glasses of wine appeared. Power diminished, but not gone.

  He took up one glass and waited until his brother lifted the other. “They’re not complete Latents,” Vincent said. “They have some power, although it’s not that strong.” Vincent knew that much was true. The impact of the spell those two had cast came from the fact that, somehow, they’d worked together. That wasn’t something he’d ever known to happen before. He decided to keep that observation to himself. “Since we weren’t expecting it, we weren’t ready for it. We were directing our power elsewhere, at the woman.” That had to be the reason they weren’t able to break free when those two attacked. Their power had been directed at the woman. Emilio had mesmerized her while he, Vincent, had been working on seducing her body with erotic messages.

  Neither of them had a lot of experience working against other warlocks. It wasn’t as if there were quests and battles against dragons, ogres, and sorcerers—the way the tellers of fairy tales would have it be.

  Warlocks were few and used their power to better themselves and increase their fortune.

  “We had the woman in our thrall,” Emilio said. “I held her attention to me, and I felt the effect you were having on her, filling her mind with thoughts of serving us. Five more minutes and we’d have had her bent over one of those seats, taking our cocks.”

  Vincent read the frown on his brother’s face. Emilio sensed something was off with him. It occurred to him then his twin just might be able to sense his distrust. Not knowing if he could hide the emotion from him now, he decided to redirect it instead.

  “Father misled us about the men being Latents. We’d have been better prepared for their display of power, otherwise.”

  “We could have found them, otherwise,” Emilio said. “And not wasted our time with the tubby bitch. We should go and look for them now, brother.”

  “That crew member saw them get into a cab,” Vincent reminded him. “Which means they’ve probably gone sightseeing. The island isn’t very big, but I think we’ll be better served if we relax for now. They’ll be back on the ship tonight. Or, if not tonight, then by the morning we set sail for the next port.”

  “If they don’t return tonight, perhaps we could find them then. Catch them while they’re sleeping. They’ve used their power on us. We’ll be able to know when we’re near them, now.”

  Vincent tilted his head to the side. “True.” He needed to be of two minds—the one he let his brother sense and his real thoughts. They should be able to sense them, now. That much was true. Vincent recalled the one time they’d encountered a warlock from another family. They’d been looking for him and had felt the man’s power before they’d seen him and, more importantly, before he’d sensed them. That man had been more powerful than these two so-called Latents, yet they’d killed him. Deciding his brother’s plan had merit, he added one codicil to it.

  “In the meantime, there’s no need to let Father know what’s happened.” This far from home, they’d have to use their cell phones to communicate him—unless he decided to drop in for a visit. He likely won’t bother. He sent us here, and he’ll bring us home, but that will be the extent of Gregor Fortuna’s involvement with the situation. Vincent wasn’t powerful enough yet to transport himself all the way home, not from this great a distance. That next level of power, according to his father, would come only with inheritance.

  “I agree. We haven’t failed. We just haven’t succeeded yet. But we will.” Emilio looked certain. Carefully, Vincent sent out the smallest bit of power, needing to know more about his twin’s true feelings than just what he could hear and see on the surface.

  Ah, Emilio is feeling the effects of that spell, too. He’d needed only the small peek to know that not only was his brother not feeling at full strength he would also be weaker than Vincent when he regained that strength.

  Good. He turned his senses inward, seeking the answer to his most pressing problem. Would he recover to his former level?

  Time. He’d need just a bit more time to be at full power.

  “Yes, we will succeed, Milio. But until we can take the next step toward that success, we might as well take advantage of having time away from the office.” Despite their wealth and power—both the power of magic and the power that came with wealth among men—they didn’t spend much time, either of them, indulging their prurient desires or exotic tastes.

  Father keeps us on a damn tight leash and expects us to give all for the company. Give all to him. Vacations were rare occurrences.

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.” Emilio finally sat down in the chair next to him. He exhaled heavily. “I tell you, Vicente, those two—they blindsided me. I do not like the feeling. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “No, we won’t let it happen again.” Vincent raised his glass in a toast to his brother. “Let’s go have dinner and then see what we can find here for dessert, afterward.”

  “Ilsa proved very distracting last night,” Emilio said. “As well as very agile. Perhaps we can get her and that friend she was thinking about to join us for the evening.”

  Vincent grinned. “We’ll wine them and dine them and dance with them at the disco.”

  Emilio laughed. “Then we’ll bring them back here and have them go at each other before we go at them.”

  “Yes.” Vincent finished his wine and got to his feet. “Let’s see what our powers of suggestion can make those two little whores do with each other.” It would also make their late-night hunt, on a sexual high, a lot more entertaining that it would otherwise be.

  He really hoped they found those two Latents and their woman tonight. It would be entertaining to fuck her in front of them before he and his brother killed them all.

  Chapter 12

  They’d only been lovers for a few days, yet Cheri was already addicted to Max and Tony. She thought they might feel the same about her since they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off her. Even when they weren’t in bed, or in the quiet of the cabin in Colorado, they seemed to need to touch her every few minutes. Holding her hands or giving an absent caress down her back, her arm, with the intermittent chaste kiss for good measure. Yes, I’m definitely addicted. Cheri soaked up the affection, even as she wondered what it meant. Just as she’d never complain about those gestures, she wouldn’t ask about them, either.

  The three of them had spent the last few days exploring Hamilton, Bermuda, and the surrounding area, taking in the beautiful beaches, and getting to know each other, too. Because they asked her to, each day Cheri took them all to the cabin for a few hours. The men made good use of their time there, each one working to understand the energy within him.

  She did her best to answer their questions and to try to put the information they asked for in terms they’d find relatable. They’d both made astounding progress.

  One thing did concern her, but she kept it to herse
lf. The times when they were at the cabin were the only times the men talked about the power. The Prophecy, they didn’t discuss at all. Cheri kept reminding herself she had to be patient. Their worlds had just been turned upside down. Even knowing and admitting to themselves and her that this moment had always been going to be theirs didn’t necessarily help the situation. It didn’t make them okay with it all.

  Now, as was inevitable, they were back on the ship. The Eugenia was to set sail at sunset, spend two days out at sea, and then visit The Royal Naval Dockyard, its second mooring in Bermuda.

  The men had escorted her to her cabin and waited while she’d showered and changed out of her casual tourist clothes into something more suitable for dinner. Then they’d led her to theirs so they could do the same. Due to the limited space, the men took turns getting ready.

  We could have done this with a thought. Cheri hadn’t because often, even at home, she didn’t use her magic for the simple things. And it was good that neither Max nor Tony felt the urge to go wild with their newfound abilities. They weren’t men to take such things lightly, even after being reassured that it was fine to do so.

  “I suppose we should have a plan.” Max held out a hand for Cheri, and she took it, smiling when he used his hold on her to bring her down to his lap.

  “A plan for when we encounter those two men again?” Cheri asked. She hadn’t really been able to get those two out of her thoughts. She hadn’t felt the threat of them, but her men had.

  My men. Maybe I shouldn’t think of Max and Tony in those terms. Nothing is settled between us.

  Cheri resented, for just a moment, the situation that deprived them of normalcy. If she was a normal woman, and they were normal men, then they could meet, and get to know each other, and let nature take its course over time.

  But they weren’t normal. They all three had been chosen to fulfill a destiny that few people could even envision. That destiny—that prophecy—hanging over their heads put a pressure on them that was not conducive to letting romance take its course. Or not take its course. Cheri pulled her thoughts away from what she couldn’t change and focused on the conversation.