by Zoey Marcel
Dawson was her first love, her redemption, if such a thing existed for her.
Cory brought her laughter and showed her the fun, playful side of life.
Brad was the problem, though. In many ways, he reminded her of Lucius. It was perhaps part of what attracted her to him and made her want to run from him at the same time. He was dark, overbearing, and dominant—qualities that enticed and scared the crap out of her simultaneously.
If he were only a man and perhaps a switch she might be able to handle it, but he wasn’t an ordinary man. He was a Dom through and through, and worse, he was a shape-shifter, as were his brothers.
She could enjoy a fling with them and regard it as the best of her life, but she couldn’t have a family with them. Children shouldn’t be reared by fathers who were only half human. It was too dangerous. Lucius had already proven that.
Chanel heard Dawson grunt and pant into the phone as he jerked himself off. The noises combined with the feel of Cory’s nipple firming beneath her flirting finger and Brad’s digits slipping and sliding in and out of her nether holes were heaven.
Brad’s smoking gaze heated her belly and made the blood feel like electric fire flowing through her veins. This really was too much. She felt too much.
Why did he have to be a Dom? Why did he and his brothers have to be shifters? Why couldn’t they be normal men who she could control and manipulate? Why was she the one being controlled and manipulated by them? Why did she have to like it so much?
“Oh god, baby, I’m coming!” Dawson’s husky breaths on the other end sent her over.
Chanel came, screaming as she squeezed Cory’s chest for support, making him grunt at the aggressive stimulation. Her cunt sucked Brad’s fingers as though they nurtured her and she refused to part with them. Her clit tingled and sizzled with erotic sensations, but it was the way his finger thrust in her ass while she clutched him with it and the dirty way he caressed her anal walls that made her feel sinful and conquered in a way she hadn’t since her Master.
Oh, this was bad. Brad was getting through to her. They all were. Perhaps if she could get her wits about her while they ate dinner, she might be able to compose herself enough to keep their encounter later as vanilla as possible. Well, as vanilla as a four-way could be.
Chanel was still shivering and shaking with the tiny aftershocks plaguing her body once they reached their house. She couldn’t look at them or let them touch her anymore, but she was stuck naked between them as Cory felt her tummy and boobs up with slow, steady strokes and Brad trapped her with his knowing eyes. He kissed her shin and smoothed his hand up and down her inner thigh, enjoying the tremors his touch evoked in her.
“It’s going to be okay, Chanel,” he said gently, seriously. “We’ll take real good care of you. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Emotion moved through her at the way he nuzzled his cheek against her calf while Cory played with her hair.
“We should get her inside. I’ll bet dinner’s ready now, though I’m tempted to just skip ahead to dessert,” Cory said suggestively.
“So am I, but let’s let her recover first,” Brad decided. “Grab her clothes. I’m going to carry her inside in my coat.”
“Aw, that’s cute, like a koala bear.” Cory grabbed her shoes, socks, and purse from off the floor and then reached into the backseat for her clothes and undergarments.
Brad got out of the truck and put his duster back on before sweeping her up into his arms so her legs wrapped around his hips. He closed the flaps so her back was covered and supported her butt with his arm as he carried her toward the house.
Cory locked up the truck and followed.
“What are you thinking?” Brad asked her.
Chanel felt emotion welling inside of her at this level of closeness. He held her body against his and carried her as they walked. Her saturated pussy pressed against his hard-on, and his humid breath fanned her cheek as the intoxicating musk of his cologne filled her lungs. She felt safe yet exposed with his hand supporting her bare butt and her tight nipples prodding at his hard, masculine flesh through the starched fabric of his shirt.
“You smell good,” she whispered.
“So do you.” He brushed the tip of his nose against hers with his eyes closed.
He was high from all the foreplay. That had to be it. Surely he didn’t love her. A man with his experience would be adept at feigning romance to seduce a woman into relations with him.
The house felt toasty warm once they came in from the cold. Brad set her down and Cory handed her clothes and purse to her after locking the door.
Dawson was beaming when he saw her. “Oh, wow. You look amazing, you sexy thing.”
“Thank you. You look pretty nice yourself.” Chanel felt her muscles relax when he enveloped her in a big bear hug. She smiled when she caught a whiff of his signature cologne, Drakkar Noir. The fragrance always drove her wild. She squeezed him snugly with her arms, delighting in the thick, meaty torso that gave her something to hold on to.
“Dinner’s all ready.”
“Oh, good. It smells wonderful. Just let me get dressed and cleaned up first.” She became anxious when she suddenly recalled the pregnancy test stashed in her purse.
“You mean you won’t be dining with us in the buff?” Dawson teased.
“Hell, yes!” Cory exclaimed with a lusty grin. “Dine naked, apple fritter.”
She laughed. “It’s winter, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“We have a fire going,” said Brad.
“I’m glad you find me tolerable to look at, but I think I’ll just get dressed. I’ll be back in a second.” She hurried down the hall using her pile of clothes to shield her rump from their devoted stares.
“Don’t you cover that ass, woman,” Brad rebuked her.
Chanel wrapped the jeans around her waist and blew him a kiss before seeking refuge in the bathroom. She removed the test from its box and wrapper and followed the directions. It seemed like forever for the results to appear in the window, and she cleaned up her genitals before redressing while she waited.
Cory knocked on the door. “Not to rush you or anything, but the garlic bread just came out. Are you coming?”
“Yeah, I’m coming. One second.” Chanel peered down at the results window, and for a minute time stood still. She had to blink a couple of times as she gaped at what she hoped wasn’t a dream. It was positive. She was pregnant.
Chapter Nine:
Barriers
Chanel was on cloud nine all through dinner. She had a little baby inside of her. She would set up an appointment with her doctor to confirm her pregnancy, but a positive home pregnancy test was a good sign.
She would need to get some prenatal vitamins, too. Maybe she’d stop by Jackson Hole tomorrow to get some. If someone saw her buying them in Temptation it wouldn’t be long before the Taylors and everyone else knew she had a bun in the oven. News traveled fast in a small town.
She wondered whether it was a boy or a girl. She would like one of each, but if she could only have one, she wanted it to be a little boy.
The dinner was superb. Dawson had always been a great cook, but apparently, time had only ripened his skill all the more. He’d made the spaghetti completely from scratch, sauce and pasta. There was also a nice simple salad and he’d made garlic bread using the French bread recipe she gave him back in high school. She was surprised that he still had it after all these years. They had enjoyed cooking and baking together in the kitchen and then sampling the tasty treats they made.
The men each had a glass of wine with their meal, but Chanel drank water. She enjoyed the occasional glass of wine, but wanted to protect her baby.
Her heart swelled with joy when she thought of feeling him kick inside of her for the first time and what he would look like on the ultrasound when the time came. Her eyes misted with emotion when she thought of holding his tiny hand and kissing his chubby cheeks. Would his adorable, little laugh fill her
heart with joy as Trevor’s had?
Chanel glanced around the table at the three brothers, wondering which of them was the father. Not that it mattered. They were all above-average men and she was happy to have their baby. She just couldn’t tell them. A tinge of guilt nipped at her conscience, but she dismissed it.
They didn’t want a baby. Cory was still so young and Brad was into weird things at the club. What sort of example was that to a child? And Dawson...well, she knew he wanted kids, but she couldn’t be with him unless she accepted his brothers, too. It was an all-or-nothing deal, and while the idea of a permanent ménage with them intrigued her, she knew it couldn’t last.
No damned shape-shifter was going to wreck her baby’s future. Her child would be her responsibility and hers alone. She would keep him safe.
After the dishes were cleared and teeth were brushed, Brad guided her down the hall and his brothers followed. The large room they’d made for her was glorious. The bed had been specially designed and was bigger than a king-size one. The mahogany headboard was massive and the ornate, intricate carvings gave the impression that the bed was centuries old. The white bedspread complimented the dark wood and reminded her of the nineteenth century. A sheer, white canopy hung over the four-poster bed and draped down the sides.
There was a vanity with an antique silver comb, brush, and mirror set on it like the ones Victorian women had used. Empty, old-fashioned perfume bottles made of fancy colored glass garnished the dressing table. A creamy, sheer mosquito net that hung from a hook in the ceiling over the vanity was draped across the attached mirror in an elegant manner. It looked like something from the Civil War era.
A knit doily was draped over a small, antique round table with an ivory washbasin and a matching pitcher that had elegant, robin’s-egg-blue trim on them. An old-fashioned soap dish sat near the basin, its shape and detail every bit as sophisticated. It cradled an oval bar of pale pink soap.
The white lace curtains on the two enormous windows added to the elegance of the oversized room and the view overlooked the breathtaking landscape of the acreage they owned.
The walls had a few Victorian paintings here and there. Some were black-and-white photos of cowboys and some were colored paintings of women in the Civil War era, her two favorite time periods in history.
“Swinging doors like a Wild West saloon,” Dawson pointed out, standing near the closet.
He was right. The swinging shutter doors looked exactly like the ones to saloon entrances in the Western movies. She walked past them to take in the glory of the vacant, spacious walk-in closet. Her eyes stung with gratitude and guilt.
Cory showed her the empty perfume bottles on the vanity. “See, they’re the old-fashioned kind where you squeeze that little thingy on the end and it sprays out from the fancy colored bottle. They’re empty so you can put your perfumes in there after you buy them.”
“And we left a couple of walls free of pictures and furniture so you can put your fancy dresser and other things in here wherever you want,” Brad explained. He walked over to an empty bookshelf and ran his hand over one of the shelves. “Now you have a place for all your classic literature. I noticed when we were over there two weeks ago that you keep your books in a box. Your apartment’s too small. You’d fit in much better here with us.”
Tears spilled from her eyes. “Thank you. It looks so beautiful.”
“We had the bed specially made and we found the vanity at an antique store, but Brad made the bookshelf,” Cory proudly informed her.
Her heart ached at their generosity and she brushed away a tear. “You made that?”
Brad shrugged, but his eyes smiled at her pleasure in what he’d done for her. “I’m no carpenter, but any dummy can build a bookshelf.”
“Thank you so much.”
“This way if it does fall apart, it’s only a bookshelf. Just be grateful I didn’t make the bed myself or you might wake up in the middle of the night screaming when it collapses,” he teased.
Chanel smiled as the tears ran down her face. “It’s like you guys got inside my mind and made my dream room. I don’t deserve it.”
She buried her face in her hand. Should she tell them about the baby? Should she thank them and leave? Would it be better to risk her baby’s life and face her BDSM fears by staying with them, or would ending things now before they got too attached to her be best?
Then again, they designed her a bedroom, got her a Christmas gift, and wouldn’t take no for an answer whenever they brought up the proposal of a long-term relationship with them. Maybe it was too late to keep feelings out of this.
Dawson put his arms around her and she wept into his shirt. “Don’t cry, honey. We did all this to make you smile, not cry.”
“You did make me smile. It’s just no one’s ever done anything like this for me. We’re not even dating and you made me this beautiful room.”
“Who says we’re not dating?” Cory demanded. “We fucked you and you came back for seconds and we want to keep you around indefinitely. I’d call that dating. Plus you’re our mate. That’s just the icing on the cake.”
She smiled weakly, feeling her stomach flip-flop when she saw Brad pull a gift wrapped in Christmas paper out from under the bed and hand it to her. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Thank you. This is really too much. You shouldn’t have.” Her body temperature climbed when she ripped the paper and unveiled a sheer, red lace chemise with a matching G-string thong. “Oh, this is gorgeous. Thank you.”
Brad’s eyes twinkled. “Try it on.”
“Yeah, and then it’s Merry Christmas to us,” Cory said gleefully.
Chanel grinned and headed into the closet to change. The satin cups had a lace overlay and gave her perky breasts a nice lift, creating a deep cleavage that was sure to tempt them. The red lace chemise hugged her curves and revealed her skin beneath it. The hem fell to her upper thighs and she felt dreadfully naughty when she stepped into the skimpy red thong and felt the thin string riding up her crack. Her butt would basically be on display for them through the sheer lace of her chemise.
The carpet felt nice against her bare feet and she smiled down at the metallic, pine-green nail polish on her toes. It complimented the red lingerie nicely and made her feel like a festive gift being presented to her cowboys.
Chanel stepped out of the closet, resting a hand on each shutter door. “What do you think?”
She felt like a saloon girl as they touched her all over with their eyes. Cory’s whistle and the compliments and deviant grins from his brothers made her feel like a sex kitten. They wanted her and she was more than eager to pounce.
Brad sat in a chair, sporting a noticeable hard-on. “You boys go first. Get her on the bed. I want to watch.”
Dawson put some towels down over the comforter upon Chanel’s request and Cory led her by the hand over to the monstrous-size bed and laid her down on her back.
“We’ve been wanting to get you in here for a long time,” Cory told her, brushing her hair back with his fingers. “We’ve been fantasizing about it for so long.”
“The room is amazing. Thank you,” Chanel breathed contentedly, stiffening when Dawson splayed her legs and sat between them. She sighed when he ran his hand up her thigh and she raised her hips for him as he peeled the thong off her.
“You’re already wet,” he noted with satisfaction.
She smiled. “I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, that’s ’cause you want it.” Cory winked at her with a big grin.
She laughed lightly. “Yes, Cory. I want it.”
“Mm, yeah you do.” He took her hand in his and bestowed a loving kiss on it before rotating her hand and planting a moist kiss on her palm.
His tender affection touched her, and the scratchy wisp of lace sliding up her skin as Dawson raised the hem of her chemise had her dripping with anticipation. His warm breath fanned her mons and she felt his soft lips matting down her pubic hair as he kissed her mound gently.<
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“I’ve missed this,” he whispered. “And this time I know how to make you come from it.”
Chanel’s heart skipped a beat and tiny tremors of need raced through her veins as he parted her folds and drank in the sight of her cream with lidded eyes and a lazy smile before going down on her. She gasped and bucked at the feel of his slick, eager tongue dragging through her moist slit as he ate hungrily from her pussy.
“Cory, toss her thong over here,” Brad requested.
Cory flung it over to him and Chanel’s jaw dropped when she saw Brad’s huge cock jutting out from his undone pants. The blood heated inside her when she saw him rubbing her thong all over his shaft while he watched her receiving pleasure from his brothers.
She felt the pull of his scorching gaze and obediently lifted her eyes to absorb the lust in his like he wanted her to. The way he gawked at her lewdly while he fondled his dick with her panties was overwhelming, but she was powerless to look away when he willed her to hold eye contact with him while he lusted after her.
Cory kissed each of her fingertips softly with hooded eyes before gradually sucking each one between his lips. He bathed her digits with his warm, wet tongue, pulling them deeper toward the back of his mouth as he enveloped them in his steamy embrace. His mouth was heaven and the tranquil expression on his face as he worshiped each of her fingers was romantic and profound.
Dawson continued to tongue her higher and higher until the urge to come was so intense she could hardly stand it. He swiped her vaginal opening and dipped his tongue into her pussy to drink deeply of her juices.
Chanel writhed and twisted, but he held her still and Cory used his free hand to lightly push her chest back against the mattress when she tried to move. Certainly she had no intention of getting up and leaving in the middle of this, but everything felt so good she didn’t know if she could lay still and take it without losing her mind.
Dawson nibbled her vulva with his lips and she panted as her arousal heightened. Her breath caught when Cory pushed the cup of her chemise down and tugged her left boob free to play with it while he covered her neck with kisses. He began to suction skin into his mouth as he sucked on her neck with a voracity that would likely leave a hickey. Thankfully, the mark Lucius had left on her was on the other side.