Anaya's Pride: Book Two (A Reverse Harem Love Story) (Beasts of Ironhaven 2)

by Chloe Cole

  And he was so right. Gatlin’s tongue flicked gently against me in a maddening rhythm that had me pressing closer to his face even as I wanted to thrust backward and take Connor deeper, beyond the shallow, teasing thrusts.

  “Please,” I moaned, digging my fingers into the rough bark. “Just do it. I feel so very empty without you.”

  My desperate plea seemed to snip that last thread of discipline as he growled low in his throat and thrust deep, giving me all of that hard cock at once.

  “You feel fucking incredible,” he ground out when he was buried to the hilt.

  But I could barely hear him as pain mingled with ecstasy.

  I hung there for a long moment, totally overcome with the sensation of fullness…of total rightness as my body adjusted to his massive girth.

  Still, though, I wanted more. I wanted to feel him moving in and out, deeper and deeper still with every thrust as Gatlin licked and sucked and pulled…

  “Oh, god,” I muttered, the blood rushing to my ears. “Connor,” I called, unable to help myself as his powerful thighs slapped against mine. “Gatlin!” I whimpered as I lowered a hand to spear into his hair, mashing his face against me as he sucked.

  “Come for us again, lass,” Connor encouraged gruffly, “I know you can. Let go.”

  The tension in my shoulders built, and then suddenly everything seemed to click into place.

  I closed my eyes and relaxed into them…the motion of Connor’s thick member, plunging wetly in and out. The sweet suction of Gatlin’s mouth as he groaned his own excitement against my flesh. I rolled my hips restlessly along with them until I lost myself in the smell of them, the heat of skin and tongue, the weight of Connor’s body as he bore down on me and the hard tension of his cock as he buried himself inside me over and over again.

  “Yes,” I breathed as he closed his teeth over my nape, pinning my hips in place as he thrust faster and faster still.

  “God, Anaya,” he growled against the shell of my ear.

  The pressure, the endless cords of tension, all snapped at once and I was free falling again, losing myself in lick after lick of fiery pleasure.

  I spasmed around his swollen length, and, as he joined me, I mindlessly reached down between my legs to drag Gatlin up. I was still coming, jerking and twitching and writhing as Connor jetted, hot and wet inside me. I pressed my mouth against Gatlin’s and fed him my scream as Connor’s orgasm set off another of my own.

  Gatlin tasted sweet and salty and hot as he plunged his tongue into my mouth. Desperate to feel him come with us, I reached down and closed my hand tight around Gatlin’s cock, groaning as I felt the silky bead pearled at the tip.

  I stroked him firmly, up and down, once…twice…then he stiffened. Hot liquid splashed against my belly as he quaked and bucked at my touch.

  My heart felt as full as my body, and tears pricked my eyes.

  This was life. This was living. Being with people who made me feel things. Made me love.

  And if it took treason to experience it, even for a moment.

  It would have been worth it.

  Chapter 3

  My heart was still racing when Connor and Gatlin pulled away, but there was no question that they were still with me. Tied to my heart in a way that I couldn't explain. A way that felt deep and profound. And a way that I couldn't wait to explore with Lucian and Michael as well.

  So this is love, then…I vaguely thought as Gatlin bent to retrieve a shirt from his bag and swiped it over my belly.

  "Are you sore, lass?" Connor asked softly, his eyes full of warmth as he handed me the clothes from my bag.

  I shook my head and bit my lower lip. Sore wasn't the right word for it.

  Achy, yes. But it was a good ache. A satisfied ache. Like a belly too full of meat pie and pudding. I wanted nothing more than to stretch back down in a pile with both of them and sleep.

  But then my stomach let out a loud gurgle and I winced, cheeks heating.

  "Sorry, I was just thinking of game pies," I said with a low chuckle as the guys both broke out laughing.

  "Well, brother mine, seems we might have to step it up next time if she was thinking about food," Connor said, bending to lay out my boots for me to step in.

  "To be fair," I added, nodding my thanks, "we haven't had a good meal. I promise the thought of food didn’t even enter my head until we'd finished."

  "That's something then," Gatlin said with a clipped nod. He stepped closer and peered at the wound in my shoulder that was now healed but for a pink scar that would fade by morning. "And it looks like you're no worse for wear after that boar decided he didn't want to get eaten tonight."

  I tugged my shirt on and glanced at the animal a half dozen yards away. "He put up a valiant fight," I murmured. We all bowed our heads, mentally thanking the animal for its meat and the nourishment it would provide.

  The brothers donned their clothes quickly and Connor collected the boar, opting to drag it by its legs so as not to wind up covered in the creature's blood.

  The walk back to camp was a quiet but amiable one. I was too overwhelmed by what had just happened to say much but inside, I was a riot of mixed emotions.

  Topping them all, though?

  Immense joy and gratitude. Whatever the coming days and weeks held, I knew I was in the midst of something most beings could only dream of. Love and passion and exhilaration. Not just with one man, but with four. All whom I was mad about. All whom I trusted, literally, with my life.

  The smell of woodsmoke tickled my nose and I knew we were getting close to camp.

  "How does this part work, then?" I asked softly, slowing when I saw the orange light of the fire in the distance. "I can sense that the four of you don't get jealous, but do we tell them that..."

  I trailed off, feeling suddenly uncertain.

  Gatlin took my hand and pressed it to his chest, before gazing down at me, his blue eyes glittering with intensity.

  "I don't know where you got the notion that we don't get jealous, but just so we're clear, that's not the case at all."

  Connor nodded as he released the boar and swiped his hands on his britches. "The thought of another male's hands on you makes every muscle in my body tense and my throat tight with the need for blood. But my brothers aren't other males. We are each a whole and then part of a greater whole."

  "We might bicker at times," Gatlin added, tightening his grip on my wrist until I could feel the beating of his heart, "or feel like one of us is getting too much of your time and attention, but there is no malice between us. Make no mistake, though, love. Our brothers will know exactly what happened the second we walk into camp," he said with a grin. "We all left tense and exhausted and now we're back relaxed and refreshed. Not to mention they'll scent us all over you."

  My body tingled as I realized that he was right. I could still smell their bodies pressed against mine and said a silent prayer that it wouldn't fade, comforting me as I slept, chasing the nightmares away.

  "The only thing on their minds now will be when they will get to do the same," Connor said, bending to pick up the boar again.

  "That's the truth," Gatlin said with a laugh. "Poor bastards. But at least we brought back dinner. And truly, Anaya, rest your worried mind. They won't think anything of it."

  I nodded and fisted my hand in his shirt as I rolled up onto my tiptoes and kissed his firm mouth.

  "That's good. Then I will try my best to let go of the guilt and just let it be what it will be."

  They chimed in with their agreement and, a moment later, we were on our way again.

  When we stepped into camp a few minutes later, both a seated Lucian and a busy Michael looked up, their gazes locked on the three of us.

  "Fire's ready," Lucian said, a wry grin tugging at his lips as his eyes roved over my body and face. I could only imagine I was a wreck. Sticks and twigs in my hair, flush from the stubble on both Connor and Gatlin's cheeks and my own embarrassment. But as he stood, that rare smile never w
avered. "You look well, woman. The hunt did you good."

  Michael tossed the log in his hand onto the fire and nodded before making his way over to take the boar from Connor. As he passed me, he leaned close, golden eyes narrowed.

  "He can scent your blood. He knows you were injured," Gatlin said softly.

  I quickly pulled my shirt to the side to show him the wound was healed and he nodded grimly, shooting a glare at both Connor and Gatlin before hoisting the boar up and carrying it off a little ways into the woods.

  "You're in trouble now," Lucian said, folding his arms over his chest. "She was injured on your watch and he isn't happy."

  Lucian didn't exactly look happy either but I slid between he and his brothers, hands perched on my hips as worry gave way to indignation.

  "I'm a lioness, not a mouse. I've gone on loads of hunts and could've been gored by a boar whether four of you were there or I was alone," I reminded him. "I love that you all care so much and want to protect me, but make no mistake. I'm strong in my own right and I'm going to continue to work with Michael on getting stronger."

  "She did kill that boar," Gatlin admitted grudgingly. "Not before it got a piece of her, but she dealt the killing bite."

  "This is all new to us, lass," Connor said, curling an arm around my waist as Lucian and I continued to stare one another down. "Usually, we care for the girls we tutor in the way you would care for a friend or acquaintance. This? This is different."

  My gaze wavered as the words hit home. He was right. It was all new for me, but it wasn't like they were pros at betraying their king and sharing a...what was I? Their lover?

  Their mate?

  I stepped back and cleared my throat, knowing that now was not the time for such discussions. We were running for our very lives and who knew if we even had beyond this moment.

  "I'll help Michael prep the boar," I said softly. "Thank you for taking care of me and standing by me. I can never repay you for what you've done for me."

  I hurried through the clearing and to the other side of the fire where Michael was making quick work of getting the pig ready for the spit.

  For the next few minutes, we worked in companionable silence and, soon enough, the scent of roasting meat filled the night air.

  Connor pulled out an old, worn banjo as Gatlin passed around a bladder of wine.

  We were far enough into the wilderness that we had no fear of being heard and the night became a revelry. We feasted on the oily, succulent pig as we shared funny stories of our pasts. I was eating a morsel of meat from Gatlin's fingertips as Connor made up the words to a bawdy reel, which we all sang along to, badly. It was a night of joy and laughter and I made sure to stay present for each and every moment of it. Every word, every touch, every taste. Etching it all into my memory as best I could.

  When our stomachs were full and the fire had dulled from a roar to a crackle, we settled down onto our blankets.

  Much like the day before, there was no discussion or arguments. Michael slipped in to my right, Gatlin to my left, while Lucian slept by my head and Connor at my feet.

  Michael pulled me close until my head was tucked into his chest, a firm but oh-so comfortable pillow. Lucian's hand slid into my cap of hair and stayed there while Connor's fingers traced shapes on my ankle. Gatlin was flush against my back, the heat of his body seeping into mine like a warm blanket.

  Tears filled my eyes as I realized that I was completely surrounded by Saint John males, and in spite of it all…being a traitor, on the run.

  I had never been so happy.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, we were up before the sun. Despite the joy of the night before, we were all in pensive moods as we packed up and prepared to go.

  As I looked around at the solemn faces of my companions, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were feeling the way I was.

  Like we were on borrowed time.

  For the next few hours, we ran as a pack, heading south, trying to get some more distance between us and the kingdom. It was only when we reached an overlook and saw a pair of villages in the distance that we slowed to a stop.

  We shifted into human form and tugged out our clothes.

  “High past time to see how far word has traveled,” Gatlin said, lacing up his pants. “You and Lucian head into the town to the left. Michael, Connor and I will head to the right. Keep eyes and ears peeled, and do your best to get the lay of the land.”

  I had pulled my shirt on but Connor moved closer and shook his head.

  “Sorry, lass.” He held out a strip of white cloth and I groaned.

  Somehow, without aid of a mirror and being surrounded by four men who wanted me anyway, I’d managed to forget that I was supposed to be a young boy in public. The breast binder made me cringe, but I held out my hand with a nod.

  “I’d forgotten,” I murmured.

  Connor pulled away and gestured for me to turn around.

  I sighed and lifted my arms up like a child as he slid the strip around my chest. He was gentle at first, but as he began to tighten it, I winced.

  “It’s a necessary evil, and believe me, we don’t like it any more than you do,” he grumbled. He tied the ends of the binding together and I glanced down to find my normally able breasts smashed flat to my body. There were still lumps to be sure, but nothing a loose fitting shirt wouldn’t hide.

  Connor dipped his head forward and pressed a kiss to my nape as penance before backing away.

  “All right, then,” he said, turning to face Michael and Gatlin. “Let’s head out. We meet back here tomorrow noon unless there’s trouble. If we lose one another, we meet thirty miles south east, in Cumberland.”

  We all nodded in agreement and I watched as the others began the trek into the village.

  “Better finish dressing so we can go,” Lucian said, his gaze wandering over my still bare stomach.

  My skin pricked into goose bumps at the heat in his eyes, but I tamped it down. We had a mission today and until it was complete, there was no time for games.

  The walk into town felt like a trudge to the gallows. On one hand, I was pretty sure I looked like a boy and wouldn't garner a second glance. But with each step closer to town, I grew more and more sure that there was no possible way my "transformation" was fooling anyone.

  "Stop fussing with your shirt," Lucian commanded, not bothering to turn around.

  I blinked at the back of his head and narrowed my gaze.

  "How do you even know that's what I was doing?" I asked suspiciously.

  "I know everything."

  To test that theory, I stuck my tongue out and waggled it at him. Without warning, he stopped short, sending me smashing into his massive form.

  "Ouch," I muttered, cupping my mouth. "You made me bite my tongue," I mumbled, my face stinging almost as much as my tongue.

  "No. The reason you bit your tongue is because you're a brat, and brats get punished," he said, his voice low and dark. "I wonder if you think it's wise to continue being bratty when you and I both know that we'll be alone tonight." His gaze traveled over my heated cheeks, down the front of my bound breasts, and lower before climbing back to meet mine. "All night."

  With that, he turned and continued walking, leaving me standing behind him, wide-eyed and blinking after him like an owl.

  Not good.

  Despite the sizzle of fear that rocketed through me there was another emotion I could barely describe. One that made my insides feel syrupy and hot.

  What would Lucian do as a punishment? I knew for certain he wouldn't hurt me. Not really, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't suffer.

  My mind instantly shot back to one of the few times we'd been together alone. It was a few days before we'd left. The night he'd played my body like a violin, but only after I'd begged. It was the most beautiful torture, and I'd wanted nothing more than to do the same back to him. And now, I was going to have him all to myself for the entire night.

  It would be good in the end, of that
I was certain. But there was no question, I would pay for my insolence, and I could hardly wait.

  I swallowed hard and touched the tip of my finger to my tongue to make sure I wasn't bleeding and then broke into a jog behind him.

  "Just so you know, I was only playing around," I said, nearly tripping over a branch in my rush to catch up and make amends. "To see if you could really see me behind you. And about that, how did you know I was sticking my tongue out?" I asked, chattering away to cover my sudden nervous anticipation.

  "Because I know you," he said simply, keeping his gaze trained on the dirt road. "And I would expect nothing less."

  I kicked a rock with the toe of my boot, trying to suss out whether that was an insult or a compliment. For the next while, we traveled in silence until we reached a carved, wooden sign and slowed to a stop.

  "Wilkenshire," he said with a jerk of his head.

  We stood side by side taking in the picturesque little village. Thatched huts were topped with squat, stone chimneys that blew out smoke in little white puffs. Horses tied to rails lined the dirt road as people bustled by carrying baskets filled with carrots, potatoes, and beets. Fishmongers held up the day's catch and called out to passersby.

  "Fresh trout and catfish. Get it here!"

  Lucian tipped his head back and sniffed the air as I followed suit.

  Lion shifters, but also a healthy dose of bears and a few of the smaller cats as well. The lot of them seemed at ease and comfortable and there were no kingsmen as far as the eye could see.

  "Seems all right," I said with a nod.

  "Keep your head down and don't speak unless you have to," he said gruffly, tugging his bag higher onto his shoulder.

  I blew out a sigh at the repeat reminder but managed to hold my tongue—mostly—as I bobbed a little curtsy. "As you wish, Your Grace."

  He rolled his eyes and started toward the village again, grumbling under his breath.

  I bit back a smile as I pulled up beside him.

  The banter between us still brought me joy, and I suspected he felt the same, despite his grumpy demeanor. I was feeling a little better about our journey into public, despite the shortness of breath this damned binder was causing, when a woman called to us.