“We’ve done this in the shower, remember?” Owen’s rough voice was amused.
This position was more vulnerable and exposed than she’d realized, and she tried to swivel her butt out of danger.
He held her in place with a firm grip on her hip. His finger slid out and back in, deeper this time.
“Oh Gods.” Her skin turned to goosebumps at the strange sensation.
Gawain sat beside her hip, one hand resting on her back. “Breathe, sweetling.”
Breathe, how? There was almost no air in the room—and even less when Owen used two fingers. The increased diameter burned slightly, but his slickened fingers slid in and out easily.
Gawain ran a hand down her stomach, and his fingers grazed her swollen clit.
She jumped—and Owen laughed. “She almost squeezed my fingers off. Do it again.”
Owen’s firm strokes in her ass, Gawain’s caressing her clit—at the same time—sent tremors of excitement coursing across her body. Her shivers increased as they held her in place—Owen gripping her hip, Gawain’s arm latching around her waist—as they played with her.
“All right, kitten, I’m going to go slow.” Owen’s fingers slid out.
He was going to…what?
Something pressed against her anus—something bigger than his fingers.
Oh Gods, his shaft. Her fingers curled against her palms. She knew they had intended this…eventually. Now?
Slowly, he breeched her opening, blazing a trail of fire in her back region. His cockhead stretched her to the point of pain before it was finally in. He stopped. “That’s the hardest part, cariad. Are you all right?”
Firmness and caring. Orders and concern. What she’d wanted all her life.
“Darcy?” Gawain asked.
She turned her head to look at him. He looked like a god, burning blue eyes, tanned skin, all muscles—and all hers.
His eyes narrowed, and he stroked her hair. “Catling?”
“I’m so fine.”
His grin appeared, white within his light brown beard. He glanced at Owen and nodded.
Owen pressed in, slowly penetrating her. His shaft was ever so long…and she giggled.
Both males froze.
“What?” Owen’s voice was hoarse. “Have we’ve driven her crazy?”
“I’m just so glad it’s you and not Gawain back there. He’s very…”
Gawain gave a shout of laughter…because the girth of his erection was impressive. Owen was longer, Gawain thicker.
Even as he laughed, Owen continued to press in, deeper and deeper until his thighs rested against the backs of hers. His groin pressed against her buttocks.
So strange. She gave a wiggle and squeaked as his cock moved inside her. Her whole back area was throbbing around the burning intrusion, yet her clit was tingling, her nipples tightly bunched and aching.
She knew Owen was waiting—and finally, she nodded. “I’m good.”
“Thank you, little cat,” Owen said, his voice rough. “For your trust.” He slid out and in, slowly, adding more lube, wakening new nerves until everything back there seemed alight. “Ready, brawd?”
“Mother of all, yes.” Gawain had his hand wrapped around his thick erection. She really loved his cock, and she licked her lips, wanting her mouth there.
“Not this time, pretty panther,” he said.
Owen curled over and above her, his chest against her back. Wrapping one arm low on her pelvis, and the other over her breasts, he rolled sideways and over onto his back, landing on a pile of pillows. His shoulders and head were supported by the pillows so he was propped slightly up. His ass was on the bed—and his shaft was still in her back hole.
“What…” Squirming against the feeling of being impaled, she lay on top of him with her back against his chest and her head in the hollow of his shoulder. His long legs hung off the mattress—and his feet undoubtedly touched the floor.
Her feet, of course, were dangling in the air.
She turned her head to glare up at him and saw only the bottom of his jaw. “What are you doing?”
Owen chuckled. “I do enjoy each time she asks that question. Want to tell her, brawd?”
Gawain walked to the end of the bed. His lips curved. “He’s giving me access, aye?”
Access to… Oh my Gods.
As Gawain stepped between Owen’s knees, he put an arm under her left leg, catching her knee in the bend of his elbow. With his other hand, he guided his shaft to her pussy, pressing lightly against her entrance. “Are you ready, Darcy?”
She looked up at him. His trim beard covered a strong jaw. Thick muscles widened his chest and shoulders. His biceps bulged as he held her leg up in the air beside his waist. Had there ever been a more gorgeous male? And his deep blue eyes were full of heat—and love—for her.
She managed a nod. Barely.
Owen fondled her breast with his left hand and the other cupped her mound. He lifted his head to whisper in her ear, “Breathe, kitten.”
Gripping his left forearm to anchor herself, she sucked in a breath.
Gawain pressed in slightly—and her breathing stopped. Oh Gods.
He stopped. “Look at me, Darcy. You’ll tell me if it hurts.”
Staring up into his perceptive eyes, she managed to nod.
“All right.” He held her gaze trapped as he relentlessly filled her.
So full. So damn far in.
When he was balls-deep, he stopped and studied her.
Everything inside her was stretched and throbbing. Overwhelmed, she couldn’t think, could only cling to Owen’s arm as he fondled her breasts. His other hand slid lower to stroke her clit lightly—and at the exquisite sensation, everything tightened.
No, she was already too full. Oh, Gods!
Owen’s laugh made his chest shake beneath her—made her jiggle on his cock and gasp at the burning, tingling, amazing feeling. Too many sensations.
Gawain lifted her other leg over his shoulder, leaned forward, and braced his hand on the bed. His erection slid out and back in more forcefully.
She gasped as searing, electrifying pleasure shot through her.
Smiling slightly, he did it again.
Oh Gods, she was so full. Owen didn’t move—which was good since she might have had a heart attack. She could barely manage one cock.
Instead, he slid his finger over and around her clit, and heat zipped up her spine. Her clit swelled and throbbed. Her pussy clutched around Gawain even tighter.
“Our catling.” Gawain ran his hands over her legs, stroking her. “I love sharing you with my brother. Love giving you my seed.” He moved slowly, in and out, simply enjoying her, and grinning every time she wiggled and moaned.
He sped up slightly and every thrust felt so…different with Owen’s shaft inside her, too. Her nipples gathered into aching peaks, and Owen laughed and pinched one.
When her lower half contracted, they all groaned.
Gawain started thrusting fast and forcefully. “Join us, brawd. She’s ready.”
Keeping his hand on her clit, Owen set his other arm around her waist in a hard, unmovable band, and slid partway out of her ass.
She gasped.
Tilting his pelvis, he plunged back in.
Oh, oh, oh. At the ferocious pleasure, everything within contracted around both cocks.
Both males kept moving. Owen slid in, Gawain out. Gawain thrust; Owen withdrew. Their merciless pace increased, and then Owen’s fingers rubbed over her clit.
Her core clenched, and excruciating pleasure fireballed inside her, pouring through her, sending her flying. Her whole body shook as she came.
Without a pause, Gawain continued thrusting as Owen pistoned into her from behind—and ceaseless waves of molten pleasure rolled over her, as endless as the tide.
With a low groan, Gawain gripped her harder, and she felt his shaft spasming inside her.
A second later, Owen did the same with a low growl. His arms tightened around her as
he kissed the side of her head. “Thank you, my mate.”
Still embedded deeply inside her, Gawain leaned forward to kiss her, rubbing his cheek against hers like the cat he was. “Thank you, my mate.”
Her arms felt boneless as she put them around his neck and took herself a proper kiss.
“Stay put for a minute.” He withdrew and lifted her up, and she gasped as Owen’s softening erection left her ass. Solid and sturdy, Gawain set her on her feet and held her against him.
Owen laughed, patted her butt, and rolled off the bed to go clean up.
Gawain lay back on the bed with her in his arms. “Thank you, Darcy, for letting us share.”
She considered teasing them by saying she didn’t like it. But…even if her lying abilities worked, they knew better. She’d never come so long and hard before. In fact, it had been amazing to be sandwiched between them, both cocks inside her, feeling…everything. “Thank you for making it lovely.”
Owen returned, crawling in to snuggle behind her, warming her with his superheated body.
The bed was the perfect size for all of them.
Exhausted and delighted, she squirmed until Owen moved forward, squishing her against Gawain’s side. Pinning her between them.
Purring in pleasure, she settled her head on Gawain’s shoulder, feeling Owen rubbing his chin on the top of her head. Gawain’s hand rested on her shoulder.
As the last glimmer of the moon disappeared from the window, she gave a happy sigh. This…right here…was where she belonged.
Chapter Thirty
‡
A Sunday in the second week in December was the day of their official house and business warming. As anticipation burbled inside him, Gawain trotted down the stairs and into the living room.
A flash from the huge brick fireplace caught his attention. In the blazing fire, two golden and red salamanders were twining and spiraling in a wave of sparks. “Be welcome to our home,” he murmured.
They blinked beady eyes and continued their dance.
Slowly, Gawain turned, reveling in the happiness and contentment that filled the aged house. Earlier, he’d noticed a small nose poking out of a kitchen baseboard hole. Apparently, the OtherFolk had decided their family was stable and happy, and some housekeeping brownies had moved in. He’d have to remember to set out cream and cake for them tonight.
Gawain smiled. He couldn’t wait to tell his mates.
From the kitchen came the cheerful sounds of females talking and laughing. A whirr from outside said Owen was sliding open the big barn door. In a few minutes, the house and barn would start to fill with their guests.
Were they ready? He studied the rooms and nodded in satisfaction. Their house had become a home.
Gawain had owned more than enough furniture to fill the rooms and stock the kitchen. But despite the furnishings, the house hadn’t been a home…until Darcy moved in. Now, her bright red coat hung in the foyer. She’d bought a large round, hand-crocheted rug from her friend Rebecca, and the dark red and brown colors warmed the living room. A table with a chess set stood in one corner. Books sat on end tables, and a knotted piece of crochet work spilled out of a basket.
She’d taken one of Gawain’s early metal artworks and hung it above the fireplace. Beneath it on the mantel were candles and one of Owen’s carvings. From Emma’s house had come lush foliage plants. He hadn’t realized how such small embellishments could change an entire house. Curtains, rugs, pillows, artwork, throws, plants, even bowls of fruit left out so a person could grab something in passing.
He and Owen had stood back and let their mate transform the house into a den that rivaled those created by werebears. All in less than two weeks.
Tilting his head, he smiled, because, in addition to the furniture, each room now held memories. Like Darcy’s giggles when she’d discovered he was ticklish. How Owen’s eyes lit when he realized they’d saved breakfast for him. Their new ritual of arguing over the dinner menu, then cooking it together. The sound of Owen’s laughter when Darcy pounced on him in bed and demanded a morning kiss. The fun they’d had wallpapering the dining room…and Darcy’s adorable hisses when they’d tried to get the glue out of her hair in the shower.
How many memories could they create in a lifetime?
Lifting his nose, he sniffed and smiled at the scents from the kitchen. He’d done his part, whipping up the only two appetizers he knew how to make. Owen had added another. The rest they’d hired Bree and Angie to provide. Now, Darcy and her female crew were setting up trays and drinks.
With a cub in a backpack, Vicki walked into the living room and put a platter of mixed hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table. “Hey, Gawain.” She grinned. “Holding an open house is a great idea to get your businesses started. I think everyone in town—human and Daonain—plans to come by.”
“Good to hear.” Gawain appropriated the cub, checking the hair color. Black, so this was Toren. “I’m surprised Thorson let you hold his cubling.”
“I made her beg.” Joe Thorson stalked into the room. Even as he touched the cub’s round cheek, he frowned at Gawain. “I want a rematch.”
“How can you be upset about losing one game of chess?” Vicki snorted. “You’re always complaining no one can give you a decent game.”
Thorson barked a laugh. “You and Calum can. You’re just too busy.” He nodded toward Gawain. “This one loves the game.”
True enough. And Thorson hadn’t been easy to beat. Gawain anticipated many quiet, winter evenings with this canny cat. “I do love the game. Rematch tomorrow night? At the tavern?”
Thorson nodded, his lips twitching up in almost a smile.
As Calum came out to join his mate, Gawain seized the moment. “I’ve wanted to thank you, both of you.”
Calum raised an eyebrow.
“Sheltering Darcy, making us both feel welcome in town, offering us this house, rescuing her villagers, helping them find new homes. If there’s anything I—”
“No need.” Vicki shook her head. “There’s no—”
“Aye. A debt is owed,” Thorson interrupted. “Cosantirs don’t take payment, but for balance, you could make the Cosantir’s mate one of your fancy cahir knives. She lost hers in that Scythe demon hole.”
Balance—the age-old Daonain Law of Reciprocity. It’d been a while since Gawain had heard it invoked.
Vicki shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”
Actually, he rather thought it was. And from the way Vicki’s eyes had lit, he’d have made her a knife anyway. But it would be good to achieve balance as well. He bowed his head in formal acknowledgement. “The balance is fair. Accepted.”
In the kitchen, Darcy surveyed the wealth of appetizers and felt inadequate. “Gawain made food. So did Owen. I didn’t…because I don’t know how,” she grumbled. “I only remember a few things from when I’d help Mum.”
“I know the feeling.” Emma patted her shoulder. “But I found it’s not difficult to learn to cook the basics and, if you mess up, there’s Angie’s Diner.”
Angie chuckled. “True. But I’d also be happy to teach you. Anytime you’re at leisure, drop in. I love having minions to boss around.”
Bree popped a tiny quiche in her mouth. “Let Angie instruct you on the real food, and I’ll teach you how to make the sweet stuff. I miss having you around the lodge.”
Friends. Warmed, Darcy smiled.
Bonnie slid an arm around her and murmured, “I know a lot of Owen’s favorites. I’ll teach you those.”
Unable to resist, Darcy gave her a hug. “You’re all on.”
Owen had slid the barn door wide open, and he nodded in satisfaction. The three “shops” were ready for viewing. To the left were Gawain’s forges and metalwork—with all magical items tucked away. One of the forges was stoked up enough to warm the barn despite the snow outside. In the back right, Owen’s carvings filled the shelves and crowded the floor. Darcy’s front corner of the shop showed all the equipment and small appliance
s she was currently repairing.
“You got this?” he asked, looking at Hector.
“I got it,” Hector said confidently. Two days ago, the young shifter had appeared at the barn with Calum’s daughter Jamie and had asked Owen for carving lessons. Owen wasn’t calling him an apprentice…yet…but the kid had a talent.
And, since the cub was broke, they’d hired him to show off the barn during the open house.
“If Jamie’s at the house, I’ll send her over with some food and drink,” Owen said, getting a wide grin. Ah, young love.
At the house, Owen spotted Gawain in the living room, talking with a group of people. Bree was talking with Vicki, so Calum was probably around somewhere, too.
With a screech high enough to break glass, Tyler charged across the room followed by two more mini-monsters—Luke, and Ben’s cubling, Minette. All three were fucking cute.
A second later, they were climbing him like a tree. Smothering his laugh, he looked down at the three. “Who can show me where the Cosantir is?”
They dropped off with small thuds.
“I can.” Tiny chest puffed up with importance, Tyler took his hand and dragged him into the dining room.
Calum was there, talking with Wells and Tynan.
“Excellent job, young male.” Owen lifted his nephew, tossed him in the air, and got a screech of delight.
After a quick hug, the whirlwind dashed back to his friends. “Unc Wen threw me in the air and catched me!”
Turning, Owen gave a slight bow to the Cosantir and nodded to the other two.
Wells had baby Artair in one arm and was letting the cub suck on his finger. “Treharn.”
Owen looked at Calum. “Since we visited my cabin, then got buried in open house details, I haven’t heard what’s going on with the Scythe. Is Darcy going to be safe, or should we consider moving to Canada?”
Calum glanced at Wells. “I believe this question is yours.”
The spymaster looked up from his namesake, and his pale blue eyes turned cold. “Although there are no guarantees in a war like this, Treharn, we plan to locate all the members of the Scythe. And they will be weeded out by the appropriate people.” His gaze turned to the front door where Darcy’s brothers had just entered.
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