Charlotte

by Mima

  Her gasp was raw and harsh, her feet jerking up onto the chaise, her core tight as she shoved her hips high. But Ivor did not take what she offered, her darker, deeper path. His thumb pushed around and around on her clit, all while Ryder trailed fang tips down his jugular, then danced his tongue up a stark sinew.

  Charlotte’s thighs trembled, her breasts rocking as her hips jerked helplessly. Her muscles locked, she stared at her golden male as he claimed her with one touch, while tenderly providing for her dark male’s needs.

  Ryder stopped in the middle of Ivor’s neck and snarled. His jaw opened wide, sealing his mouth against his neck. His arms tight around Ivor’s torso, his body shook. When he pulled away with a shout, a dark oval stained Ivor’s neck, a bruise from the force of his suction, but no fresh blood gleamed. Her vampire wasn’t dreamy tonight, but dangerous.

  Charlotte’s head tossed as she came, her body wracked, tight and burning and straining. When her pleasure settled, she collapsed on a moan. Ryder stood behind Ivor, his hands casually wrapped around the man’s chest, his cheek on his hair as they both watched her. Ivor took his thumb from her and held his hand up by his head. Ryder leaned over and sucked, his eyelids drooping as he swallowed Charlotte off of Ivor.

  Ivor’s voice was a bass rumble, the slurred words telling her he was nearly lost to pleasure himself. “You want to live dangerous tonight.” He voiced what Charlotte had understood.

  “Yesss,” Ryder said, lifting his mouth from Ivor’s hand. “Blood knows summer, too.”

  Ivor leaned forward, licking up from her belly to her throat in one smooth swipe.

  Charlotte shouted, guttural and harsh.

  Ivor licked his lips. “Sweet.” His hot tip scalded her valley as he brought his hips down to hers.

  She sobbed. He began to push. Hard, demanding shoves soon had him deep within her. She went wild, no longer content to let anticipation fill the night. Her body twisting, her hands reaching around Ivor’s waist toward Ryder, she let the magic unfurl from inside her.

  “Make me come.” Her desire uttered beneath the moonlight held power.

  Both men jerked as if lashed, shoulders bowing back for one brilliant moment. Ivor’s hips began to move, heavy, fast, thick, unyielding; he crushed her body in minutes and made her spirit fly. Her sigh this time was long, grateful.

  But Ivor growled in frustration. “Not enough.”

  Ryder sighed. “You know how it is when she gets like this.”

  The men exchanged places. Ryder drifted into her body as if he was made to fit hers perfectly. His coolness against her overheated flesh was a blessing. His serpentine slides crested in a tight grind against her inflamed clit without being rushed. He swung and twisted against her until her orgasm showered over her in prickling delight.

  Ryder stood up. Both men were erect, their cocks gleaming. Her heart squeezed hard with almost unbearable love. Then it kicked hard in awe. They weren’t done. Whenever she gave a command, she was never quite sure how it would work out. It seemed her moonlight magic refused direction, always needing to bend in its own way.

  Ivor knelt on the chaise, flipped her over, and began to work himself into her channel. He grunted as he forced his flesh in bit by bit. Ryder approached and crouched by her. She held his gaze while Ivor controlled her hips. She let him watch everything she felt in her eyes. Finally, Ivor reached under her and pinched her secret button. She shattered, soundlessly shuddering as pleasure turned her nerves to glitter.

  As soon as she wilted from the grip of the moment, Ryder knelt and guided her face forward until she swallowed him. Ivor withdrew, shifted, and then his mouth enclosed her bare mound. He lay on his back and pulled her hips down, not content until she rested her full weight on him despite her fear she’d suffocate him in this position. His tongue worked wildly through her soaked folds. Ryder marked the depth she could handle and set his fist at his base, then gripped her jaw to keep it open with one expert placement of his thumb. Her breasts chafed against the chaise with the force of her body rocking between the vampire and the wolf.

  Ivor suckled her clit, scoring it with his teeth, padding it with his tongue. Ryder thrust with controlled strength against her face, her own taste mixed with his scrambling her mind.

  Whenever her men marked her with a flower, this is what it became. A magical trio, two men who accepted each other completely, both focused on the woman who commanded them. They were lovers, they were friends, they were powers who had withstood a pack challenge, a jealous elfin ex-lover, and a plotting Fairy Queen. They had homes in New York, Paris, Oslo, and Capri. They cruised the world by train and boat, enjoying the freedom of the night without fear like the master predators they were.

  Charlotte swallowed, her tongue mimicking Ivor’s below. She let the moonlight soak into her skin, and this time when she came, she let herself go free. Ivor’s hands clenched on the backs of her thighs, his body jerking as he found his own release. Ryder poured into her mouth, as deliciously herbal as his silky essence usually was. Her body began to glow, first at her belly and then up her breastbone. The light oozed down her arms to the hands that frantically grabbed Ryder’s hips. It filled her thighs and trickled to her toes. The terrace glowed in white light. Ripping, wet sounds came from Ivor, and she watched him slide from between her legs as he became a giant cream-colored wolf.

  He shook himself from nose to tail, wagged at her, and licked her lax hand. He went to Ryder next, now sitting at the head of the chaise, one hand clenched in her hair possessively. Ryder roughed Ivor’s fur over his head and ears and neck, the wolf leaning into the touch with pleasure.

  Trotting over to the grill, he stole the now blackened fish from it and swallowed it all. Charlotte laughed, draped along the chaise in complete contentment. Ryder looked down at her, smiling softly, the light she threw up on his face from below making the sharp angles of his face look dramatic. The wolf plopped himself down at Ryder’s feet, panting. He was content for the moment, but Charlotte knew Ryder would soon take him on the large yacht over to the mainland so they could run with the pack Ivor still ruled with ruthless justice. There on the Amalfi Coast her dark lover would find humans to soothe his dark hunger.

  Charlotte would stay behind and dance. She would dance with the moon to a primal beat, nude and sinuous, her long copper hair shining. She would dance as a woman who had claimed two lovers, who had found her magic, who had found her bliss.

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  “I need to go. I’ve never been fond of throwing children in a pool to teach them to swim, and I feel like that right now. Perhaps a fantastical ball was a little extreme for my first taste of magic.”

  As if to prove her point, a couple began to squabble loudly a few yards away. The woman shoved the man. His tongue shot out and slapped her with a sticky thwack. She threw her drink on him and he began to smoke. He snapped his fingers and she turned into a dove and flew away, her glass crashing to the floor. The mouse sleigh pulled up and the naked little man used his red hat to clear away the shards of crystal.

  Charlotte’s head whirled. This was not the place for her. She suddenly yearned to be back on her block, walking the dirty sidewalks on her way to Tito’s Tacos.

  “It’s not that easy,” Ivor said grimly. He stepped into her line of sight, oblivious to the chaos behind him.

  “I can’t stay here,” she went on. He loomed over her like a gorgeous, warm, compelling wall. “I’m starting to feel weepy. Do you know what redheads look like when we get weepy?” Her joke fell flat because her eyes really did well up.

  “I thought you enjoyed my company. We moved well together.” His face stayed very blank.

  Biting her lip, she looked away. There was no doubt of her attraction to him. It was w
hat she’d wanted . . . without the weirdness. All Gram’s stories about magic swarmed in her head. It was like being trapped inside a Grimm fantasy.

  “I do enjoy your company.” Especially when he wasn’t furry. Could he turn her into a werewolf? How dangerous was he? For the first time, she considered that she was rejecting a werewolf. “I just need some time,” she whispered. She held very still.

  He instantly pulled back, as if insulted. “You do not need to fear me.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “However, you cannot return to your cabin. You need to be registered, and there are laws you need to know. The most serious is that you must stay hidden from humans. If you returned to your cabin tonight, powered as you are by the moon and sea, you could unwittingly compel a human as you did me earlier.”

  She blinked. “What would happen?”

  His lips thinned and his jaw pulsed tightly. “They’d do what you told them, and you’d likely face the enforcers, with serious punishments to follow.”

  “P-punishments?” An image came to her of medieval torture devices.

  “Or death, if you were noticed by enough people.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I’ll stay quiet.”

  He huffed. “The other issue is that certain elements of my pack might take it into their heads to be insulted by your choice. For tonight, it is not safe for you to be unescorted. You need someone who can make them back down.”

  Her shoulders went back to line up with the wall. “You could fix that.”

  He tipped his head, and now it seemed a very doglike gesture. “I’m a leader, not a puppet master. And wolves are very independent-minded. We’ll find you an escort to take you to be registered, someone who can give you a crash course in the big rules and guard you in your room until dawn. The pack will surely cool off by then.”

  Taking her elbow, he turned and headed toward the door, his plan decided.

  “But excuse me, your majesty, why can’t you take me to be registered, you tell me the rules, you guard me since you endangered me?”

  He looked at her blandly, steering them effortlessly through the mingling crowd. “Because I don’t care to baby an imp who doesn’t have a bold heart.” Returning his gaze to the distance, he clearly dismissed her. “And you entered this deck on your own. No one forced you here.”

  It was shameful of her to blame the situation on him. He was right. No one had forced her to go fishing for guys, walking with one to a ball she knew nothing about. It could have turned out to be a drugged-out mafia bash, for all she knew. She’d been stupid. Although, as she watched a trio of wart-faced men stroll past, she wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t have preferred it.

  “But who will help me, a total stranger?”

  Ivor smiled. It was unlike his previous smiles. This one was outright wolfish, sly and cruel. “I have an idea.”

  Stopping at the doorway, he murmured to the giant man in a tuxedo standing at parade rest, clearly some sort of a guard. The giant pulled out the same type of cell she owned and called someone on speed dial.

  Then Ivor guided her back out into the night air. She took great, deep drags of the soft, salty energy. But the night no longer felt freeing. Instead, everything was confused, like a ship rocking in a deep storm.

  They stopped at the banister, silent. He stood relaxed against the balcony, but she stayed tense, hands clenched on the wood. “So . . . do you only change on a full moon?”

  He continued to look at the horizon, ignoring her.

  She swallowed, crossed her arms. The loss of his regard hurt, but that room was not part of a world she understood. She stared at the dark water and waited obediently, grateful for a way out. Eventually a smooth voice came from behind them.

  “But mon ami, I am so surprised by your offer. Surely there is a reason you say our lovely pixie suddenly prefers my company?”

  Ivor straightened and shook Ryder’s hand. It was the black rascal. “Charlotte found the ball too educational and needs a slower pace.”

  Ryder’s dark gaze slid down her in a completely hungry way. “I move as slowly as a lady needs. Sometimes a job is only a matter of a butterfly-press.” He walked around behind her. “Wolves are always going on about their refinement but have yet to learn any subtlety of the flesh. You must turn to a vampire in order to gain true knowledge of the body and its pleasures.”

  Her eyes bulged. She caught the amusement that flickered on Ivor’s face. He inclined his head. “Good evening, Ryder. Thank you for taking her into your care.” Spinning neatly on his heel, he strode off into the darkness.

  She took a step after his wide shoulders, hand outstretched, speechless at her situation.

  Ryder slid in front of her and took the hand, kissed the back of it. Both his palm and his lips were cool. She shivered, his coolness transferring to her.

  “So the ball was not to your taste. I agree, stiff people and ridiculously boring music.”

  She pulled her spine up and took back her hand. “I would like to be registered, please.” She wasn’t going to ask him for the rules. Surely the people she registered with would help her. And absolutely he would not learn where she slept. The idea of him guarding her room was ridiculous.

  An image of smoke slinking under her door, forming a nosferatu and clacking its needle-fingers greedily, made an absurd laugh bubble up in her throat.

  Ryder raised one brow. “Well, if you’re unregistered, you’re really quite a find.”

  She shrugged. “Apparently, I’m a foxfire.”

  “Mmmm. Moon magic. How delightful.” Ryder slid one finger up her arm. “We’ll be good together.”

  She stepped back. “Just tell me where I can be registered. If Ivor gave you the impression I was changing dates, he was mistaken. I’m no longer in the mood, and actually getting quite upset.”

  Ryder’s face froze. He did blank even better than Ivor. “I see. But did any of his pack see you together?”

  She shrugged. “He spoke with some people he seemed to know.”

  “You actually entered the ballroom with him?”

  “Yes.” Her arms were now clamped so tightly around herself she threatened to break a rib.

  Giving a disgusted snort, he said, “Then you cannot be sent off alone. You need an escort. The wolves will soon learn their master has been jilted, and the hunt will be on.”

  Danger had seemed like a distant thunderstorm with Ivor. Yet she had followed her good-girl instincts and taken steps to remove herself from a bad situation. Now, without him, with a vampire declaring she was the new rabbit for hungry wolves, her knees shook. They actually wavered. Lightning seemed to strike all around her, the fine hairs on her arms stirring, skin pricking. The danger was here, now.

  “I—I . . . I don’t want any of this. I just wanted some kisses.” Her voice wavered, too.

  He studied her for a moment, then burst out into huge, dramatic laughter, slapping his leather-clad thigh with a crack, leaning against the banister, tossing his head so far back his hair fell behind his shoulders.

  When he had mostly finished chuckling, he gestured for her to follow and began to walk back toward the lily pad lounge. Reluctantly, chastened, Charlotte followed him.

  She trailed him up to the edge of the split rail fence. The lounge was still well attended, and the nightclub’s windows now flashed lights more purple than blue. He stepped up to the nightclub doors and opened one, sweeping his hand across his belly in invitation.

  The music roared at her like a tidal wave. Turning from the wall of jumping, pumping bodies, she leaned into Ryder. “I told you, this isn’t a date. I want to be registered and go.” She had to shout a bit over the thrumming beat. Humid heat rolled out of the room.

  “That means you must meet the Fairy Elder. The Elder maintains a private booth in the VIP section with her matrons.” Ryder wiggled
his fingers. “Now get your fine ass in here so I can improve my evening.”

  She looked over her shoulder to the bar where a lovely, fruity, slushy drink with an umbrella waited. Moonlight sizzled against her, making her itch. Doubtful, she stepped through the doors. A huge shout came from a dozen people within sight. Several glasses were raised.

  “Ryder!”

  His name seemed like some sort of rallying cry, and the energy increased. Two women and a man slid forward to hug him. He gave them real hugs, arms fully wrapped around them tight for a long moment. All of them looked at her curiously.

  Finally, he danced around the edge of the crowd, ass flexing and hips thrusting in a way that didn’t look at all silly. The physicality of being in the dance club was much more than she could ever have imagined.

  By the time they’d gone half around the room her tee was plastered with sweat. Ivor had shepherded her through the ball with a tender arm and an aura of command. Ryder threaded through bodies with expert tucks of his shoulder, while she bounced and stumbled. In the club, it was much harder to tell who had green or red skin. Even though people pressed at her from all sides and the music reverberated in her ribs, she liked this place better. It was darker in energy as well as lighting, but here a woman would know to expect that.

  Ryder snagged her wrist and pulled her into a particularly dense knot of people. He talk-shouted at a woman with the wings of a falcon, feathered dove gray and ending in sleek points. Even though they stood less than a foot from her, she couldn’t hear them.

  Beyond the falcon woman, in a round black room marked off by a pink velvet rope, was a round white table surrounded by a pink leather banquette. Two women sat flanking a tiny form in a hooded black cloak. One of them wore a sheer tailored shirt and the other a corset that didn’t contain so much as lift her small breasts. Charlotte stared, astonished at the public nudity.