by Lia Connor
All in all, some of her best work. Damon’s face was strained by the time she’d finished. He leaned forward and seized her mouth again in a second ravenous kiss, as if he’d devour her from the lips down. His tongue was more forceful than Devon’s, but still no jackhammer action, and Erin relished the challenge. She clashed back with her own tongue, feeling his muscles ripple with the effort not to groan out his pleasure. Good times.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Devon chanted, scrambling up from his position on the blanket. Erin frowned, then figured he’d be getting out of there. There was only so much a person was willing to share, after all.
But no, he knelt behind Erin, lifting her head and shoulders to rest on his lap. Nestled so between his legs, Erin could feel that he’d grown hard again, ready for action even though he wouldn’t be getting any at the moment, poor guy. “Now,” he said hoarsely. “Damon, do it. Join us as a unit.”
“A tripod,” Damon murmured, reaching out a finger that shook only slightly to trace the line of Erin’s jaw.
“You’ve already got one of those,” she shot back, moving impatiently. The weirdest night of her life? Yes. Also the best. And damned if she was going to let things grind to a halt now. “Move, Damon. Fuck me. Move!”
At her words, he did release a groan. And true to his promise, rather than sliding in gently, he only took the time to position the tip of his cock in her pussy, and then slammed in with a thrust that sent her back hard against Devon’s lap.
Erin let out a high, delighted cry. Yes, yes, that was exactly what she wanted! “That was hard,” she goaded him. “Now how about fast?”
Damon finally grinned, even if it was tinged with darkness. “Like you say. Hang on to your balls.”
And he began to move.
Now there was jackhammer action, but the kind Erin appreciated. He thrust in and out of her channel in slick, smooth thrusts, pushing her back and back until she raised her legs to lock around his waist. At the same time, Devon took a tighter grip on her, holding her steady. Damon grunted his approval at the moves, and pressed on, as it were, plundering her depths as if he knew there was gold at the bottom. Fast enough to set up a delicious friction, and hard enough that Erin felt it in every muscle of her body.
Despite his attitude, he wasn’t inconsiderate. Every push was angled against her pubic bone, hitting that lovely G-spot she and her toys had discovered a while back. Felt much better with the real thing, she had to admit. He pressed kiss after kiss on her, some landing against her mouth, where they fought a battle of wills with tongues and teeth, and some on the curve of her neck, her breasts, her shoulders.
Erin figured for Damon, this was real passion. Actually, it was for her, too. So why not return the favor? Sneaking her hands down, she managed to seize his balls in her fingers, and rolled them carefully in time with his thrusts. Damon nearly let out a shriek when she began doing that, but she could feel him grow even harder and bigger inside her, and he didn’t stop for a second, so she figured the sex tip books were right about that little move. Behind her, she could hear Devon’s delighted laughter. “Get him, Erin!” he hooted. “That’s one for her!”
“We’re not,” Damon growled, “keeping score.” He thrust against her, slick and hard, biting down just firmly enough on Erin’s nipple to make her jump and moan. “But if we were, that’d be one for me, so now we’re even again.”
As for Erin, she was torn between laughter, ecstasy, and never wanting this to end. So what if this had been the last thing she’d ever expected to happen? Devon’s warm arms and chest held her steady, Damon was fucking her wild as an animal, and her whole body felt afire with the pleasure of it.
Too soon, Damon’s movements began to falter, to grow choppy. His face drew tight and shuttered. “Going to come,” he panted. “In this damned condom. Think you’ll ever let me fuck you without one of these?”
Erin laughed at him. Damon snarled, and thrust harder. In retaliation, she clamped down with her pelvic muscles, squeezing tightly around his cock. He moaned and nearly lost his rhythm. Ooo, fun. She did it again.
Damon dipped his head and whispered in her ear: “Now. Now you get to know what it’s really like for a king of the sea and his chosen mate.”
Excuse me? Erin would have questioned that, but Damon gripped her hard, his hips pistoning against her, and she could feel pulses of liquid heat filling the condom as he came in an orgasm that seemed to go on forever. Not to be outdone, he managed to bring his hands up and tweak her clit just right, pushing her over an edge she hadn’t realized she was approaching, and send her flying again, braced by warmth, but soaring all the same. She felt warm wetness against her back, and realized that Devon had come, too, at the moment they did.
God, I bet we’re a sight, she thought dizzily. One big mess of orgasm.
She was the first to settle to earth. Well, quick reaction time was part of her job. As a bonus, she got to watch Damon struggle to recover. Erin got the feeling not many people ever saw Damon lose control, and it was pretty sweet to know she’d gotten him there. Behind her, Devon shivered as if he were freezing, his muscles twitching in a rhythmic pattern that ever so slowly ceased, until only his chest was heaving in time with the ocean waves. Damon’s breathing came to match his own, twin rasps in and out, echoing the sea.
Erin decided that was what she liked best about those guys. Somehow they were tied to the sea. From the sea they had come, and she suspected they’d return to it as soon as they calmed down, splashing away into the soon-approaching dawn.
Still, they’d given her her independence. She’d never have had the courage to try something like this at home. As for relaxing, sex beat hell out of the lotus position.
She giggled. Even though she knew Devon and Damon had no idea what she found funny, they laughed, too, weary and sated, but amused by the sound of her giggle. “Erin,” Devon said, stroking her shoulders.
“Erin,” Damon echoed, his fingertips tracing a pattern on her belly.
She felt, rather than saw, the twins look at each other. It still surprised her when the pair rolled and twisted, taking her with them to the blanket, and holding her close in the center. Their warm, ever so slightly rough skin felt better than any heating pad in the chill of the pre-dawn, against the wind off the ocean, and better still was the way that they nuzzled and petted her. Erin closed her eyes and sighed happily, soaking up the affection.
A girl could get used to that.
Maybe it didn’t have to end after that night. Maybe they’d stick around. If she tried, maybe she could convince them to go for coffee and a bagel, yes, with lox on it even. There was a great pub in town that opened early. It didn’t have to end.
She didn’t want it to end.
And she was just about to open her mouth and suggest the pub when, without any warning, another voice sounded like a whip-shot, startling holy hell out of them. “Knew I’d find you here,” it said, harsh, with a wicked little twist. “I didn’t expect to see such a pretty picture, though.”
All three sets of eyes flew open. Erin spotted the speaker first. The tattooed man she’d seen the night before, standing on top of a sand dune. In either arm, he held a huge seal pelt, weighted down by the things but holding onto them for dear life.
Devon and Damon dropped her like a hot potato. The look on Damon’s face was a terror to see. “Give those back!” he thundered. “They’re ours!”
The tattooed man cackled. “I don’t think so. These go for a good price on the black market,” he said. “The one who holds them owns them, and I’m not letting go. Too bad for you, selkies.”
Selkie? Erin’s lips parted. Twins she could handle, but… selkies? “I don’t believe in this Irish fairy tale crap,” she chanted to herself. “I don’t believe, I don’t believe, I don’t believe…”
Chapter Four
Erin hadn’t gotten to be a good paramedic, the best of her kind, without being able to think fast on her feet. She’d suspend her disbelief for the moment, ho
ld off on the freak-out, and concentrate on one thing. Those skins mattered to the twins, her twins, and damned if she was going to lie there and let Mr. War Dogs flaunt his stolen goods.
She scrambled to her feet, nakedness be-damned, snatching her cell phone with one hand and her pepper spray with the other on the way. “Drop them,” she said, waving the device. “I can either chase you down and zap you good, or make one call and have the cops here in minutes. Selkies or not, I bet they’d love to know what you’re doing with the skins of two protected animals.”
“No cops, Erin!” Devon yelped, tugging the phone away from her. “Don’t make him mad,” he pleaded.
“Hey!” she protested.
Mr. War Dogs laughed. “Lover-boy’s got it right, little girl,” he jeered. “He don’t want the cops any more than I do. They’d take the skins away from me, sure, but he wouldn’t get his back. And he needs it, if he’s ever going to swim those seas in his true form, doesn’t he?”
Damon’s face looked like a thundercloud. Even naked, he looked like a man you didn’t want to tangle with. “Drop them,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “We have friends in many places. Elementals, even. We can make your life hell if you don’t drop the skins and walk away.”
“We’ll let you go,” Devon added. “You give us back our skins, and you can leave. We won’t punish you.”
“The hell we won’t,” Damon growled.
“Damon!”
“The bastard pays for even daring to touch our skins,” Damon said viciously. “I’ve heard of this happening before. And the selkies who’ve vanished? What do you want to bet this is what happened to them? No. We catch him, and he pays the price. Justice. Our brand of justice.”
Erin’s head swam. Reaction time, still holding, and suspension of disbelief, check, but this was starting to be a little more than she could reasonably handle. Still, she knew a nice, hearty “what the hell are you talking about?” wouldn’t help her boys out, so she settled for clenching her hands into fists and glaring at Mr. War Dogs.
He laughed at her. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you?” he asked. “Come out here for a little pick-me-up and grease the pig-pole, and look what you wind up getting involved in, huh?”
“You prick!”
He groped himself. “Yeah, I got one. You got two. Looks like you win out there.”
Erin sputtered.
Mr. War Dogs shouldered the seal pelts with an effort. “Go ahead and call the cops, if you like. I have a nice old mini, looks like a hundred others on the road, and it’s parked close enough for me to be inside before you finish dialing. Me and these pelts are headed on a little trip to a buyer I know.”
“Buyer?” Damon went pale, white dents appearing by his lips. “What buyer? Where?”
“Nice little Gypsy woman. She pays a good price for were-skins, even selkie. Figure this job’s gonna keep me in gas and smokes for at least half a year.” Mr. War Dogs leered at them. “Even paid in euros, I’m headed for a fortune. And just to make sure you don’t come after me, I had her give me just a little mojo in advance…”
He dug into one pocket, came out with a fistful of a powdery substance, and blew it at them. The wind caught the white stuff, settling it over them like a cloud of talcum. Erin inhaled and went into an instant coughing fit, nearly doubling over with the force of her spasms. From the sound of things, her twins weren’t faring any better. She recovered just in time to hear a car door slam and wheels burning rubber off the beach.
The nice, private beach, where no one would be around to play eyewitness.
Damn it!
Still choking a little, she turned to Devon and Damon and put her hands on her fists. “Selkies, huh?”
Damon looked pissed, Devon shamefaced. “Well, we never said we were human,” he pointed out. “You just sort of assumed…”
“Well, it’s not like I expected to run into any fairy tale creatures. We need to talk about whether or not I believe you in the first place, but we can do that later,” she said, exasperated. “It’s not like I expected to run into anyone at all. I was just going to un-kink myself from that pretzel and go on home, but then you come along oozing sex and charm, and what exactly is a liberated woman supposed to do?”
“Say no?” Devon tentatively offered.
Erin rolled her eyes. “You haven’t looked in a mirror lately, have you? No, never mind.” She waved her hands. “All right, we don’t have time to argue right now. Selkies, fine. Are all the seals on the beaches -- never mind.” She started to pace. “Problem. That bastard has your skins. If I remember my grandma’s stories right, you can’t change back into seals without them, right?”
Damon nodded, still tight-faced with fury.
“And the only reason you shrugged them off and came playing around as men is to find a mate. Also right?”
The twins glanced at each other. Devon nodded sheepishly.
“So I’m your mate?” Erin tried to make the question sound bold, but her heart fluttered in her throat. Damned if she knew why it mattered so much, after a single night that was meant to be a quickie fuck and a goodbye, but it did. She cared about these two. Enough to do something crazy… if they’d let her, that was. And if they still wanted her.
Damon was the one to answer that. Bending to her, he savaged her mouth with a kiss, then thrust her into Devon’s arms. His lips soothed away the heat of his brother’s kiss with a gentle butterfly touch.
“I told you,” he said, soft and low, “we share everything. We should have figured we’d share a mate.”
“It’s the selkie way,” Damon said, still furious but willing to talk. “We take human women as our partners, and leave them on land while we return to the sea.”
Erin bristled. “Not this woman, buster! You want me in a relationship of any kind, we have some talking to do.”
“Is that a fact?” He loomed over her.
She faced him down without fear. “Fact.” Reaching up, she gave as good a kiss as she’d gotten, startling him out of his anger for a moment. He blinked at her. “Deal?” she demanded.
Damon eyed her, exchanged a look with Devon, who grinned and shrugged, and nodded. “We’ll talk about it. But later. First things first, and that means getting our skins back.”
“You want your skins back? No problem. Well, okay, yes, it’s a problem, but we can do this.” Erin flipped out her phone. “My bosses are going to do cartwheels when they hear I’m extending my leave of absence. And Mr. War Dogs said the woman’s a Gypsy. How hard can it be to track down a band of Gypsies these days? We’ll get your skins. And on the way, we will have a discussion or two about leaving me high and dry while you two frolic in the waves. Understood?”
A slow smile dawned on Devon’s face. “Then you will? You’ll be our mate, I mean?”
Erin studied him again -- adorable, long, lanky, muscled, bed-headed, boyish, eager, loving, and loved. She laughed. “I guess I already am.”
“Good,” Damon said roughly. “That’s settled. Do you have a car? We can start by following his tracks out of the sand.”
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” Erin hit speed-dial. “Just let me call the Personnel Office, and we’ll be on our way.” The phone rang a few times, and she got a machine. A few words of a message, and she was done. They’d be doing little happy dances that their paramedic supervisor wasn’t going to wind up in the psych unit after all. She clicked her cell shut, and tossed it toward her knapsack. “So much for that. We ready to go?”
She felt a hand steal down and clench her own. To her surprise, it was Damon’s. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but it gave her hope. “You’re a special woman,” he said, very serious. “Stay with us. Be a part of our lives. Come with us, and help us find our skins so we can swim free once again.”
Erin regarded him through narrowed eyes. “Deal,” she said after a moment.
“You’re serious? You’ll abandon your job -- everything that has
been so important to you in the past?”
“For this kind of tradeoff? Hell, yeah. What, did you think I’d take off without you? No way, buster. We’re in this together.”
Damon grinned -- actually grinned. “Then let’s go, Erin. You too, Devon. We have no time to waste.”
Hand in hand in hand, they headed up the beach. There’d be a long journey in front of them, but Erin figured they were up to the task. They had each other’s back, after all. And their fronts, and sides, and hands and knees…
Seemed she had a lot more to learn about relaxing.
The End… for now.
Lia Connor
Lia Connor supposedly lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but there. Her laptop is her best friend as she travels. She’s thrilled to be working with Changeling Press. She loves to write about BBW’s, hot, hot, hot threesomes and were-animals. Lia would love to hear from you. You can contact her at [email protected].