by Pam Godwin
“You’re right. It’s just…” I didn’t want this to change the way he looked at my other guardians. “It’s just a fantasy. It doesn’t mean—”
“Spill it.”
Ugh. So bossy. I cuddled closer to his chest, resting my cheek on his shoulder and avoiding eye contact like a coward. “I think about being with all three of you. At the same time. A willing union. You know, with no fighting. No angry glares. No shame. All of us coming together.”
He seemed to process that, taking his time in a thoughtful trance, his fingers roaming up and down my arm. “That’s not very graphic, darlin’.”
Not the response I expected. “I wasn’t sure how much imagery you wanted.”
“So when you say coming together, do you mean cumming together?”
I chewed on my lip. “Both.”
“Like three dicks in one hole?” He smirked.
“No.” I laughed, comforted by his lighthearted tone. “I have three holes.”
“Which one would I get?”
Wow. He was humoring me. And torturing me. I squeezed my thighs together to dull the damnable ache. An ache that could be soothed with so many possibilities. And risks. “Which hole? Um… Any? All?”
His hand dropped to the seam formed between my pressed thighs, his finger following the line from my knees to the crotch of the yoga pants. “The one I want I can't have.”
I swallowed, hard. “Which is why it’s a fantasy.”
“I want to be inside you.” The gentle cadence of his voice drifted around us, melding with the rain and licking my skin. “I want to make you come and see the look on your face.”
I lifted my head and peered into his hooded eyes, my heart thrashing with hope and wonderment and a whole lot of nervous energy. “Now?”
His jaw set, and he jerked his hand back, looking away.
“Have you ever seen me? Come?”
“No.” He lowered his head, focused on my lap, his muscles hardening beneath me. “Christ, I’ve been tempted to watch, but I won't. The first time I see you come, I want it to be with me, by me, and my eyes you’re connected with.”
My pulse sped into a wild gallop, and my clothes suddenly felt too heavy, too confining.
He pulled his hips back and nudged my ass away from his groin, but not before I felt it. Stiff and jerking beneath the denim of his jeans, his erection formed a long stark outline beside his zipper.
My breath caught, my tongue went numb, and my fingers curled against his shoulders.
“Evie.”
His voice cracked, snapping my attention to his beautiful face. Despite the dark surroundings, his eyes glowed like molten copper. His lips separated, revealing the tip of his tongue, and his body was so still, his chest and arms frozen with so much tension, I wasn’t sure he was breathing.
I wanted to drag down his zipper and release his cock. I wanted to look at it for the first time, hold it in my hands, and stroke it until his control exploded into frantic limbs, panting breaths, and slick skin. Fuck, I would’ve given anything to see him come. But if I voiced it, begged for it, would he run?
I pressed my lips together to trap the plea and uncurled from his lap, rising on wobbly legs. His arms fell to his sides, his eyes locked on mine.
Walking backwards, I stepped into the steady rain, beneath the cover of nightfall, holding his unwavering gaze.
His eyes followed me as I toyed with the hem of the tank top. As I bit my lip, pulled the material over my head, and bared my chest. As I trailed fingers over my collarbone, around the outer curve of my breast, and teased the waistband of my pants.
He didn’t look away as I drew a trembling breath and slid down one side of the pants, then the other, the sodden fabric sticking to my thighs.
His gaze darted between my hands, my breasts, the V of my legs as I guided the pants downward, exposing inch by soaking-wet inch of my body. I kicked the pants away and stood before him, nude, vulnerable, trembling head-to-toe in the warm drizzle.
I stood in the rain to remind him we were safe from aphids. I removed my clothes to prove I was safe with him. I held his gaze to assure him he was safe with me.
His eyes didn’t jerk away. He didn’t run. Didn’t speak. Instead, he slowly rose to his feet and stepped into the rain, his unhurried strides gnawing away the distance until he towered over me.
My heart slammed against my ribs, and my fingers twitched to reach out, to grab him, to pull his mouth to mine. But I was too wet to move. Too wet to blame it on the rain.
Standing a foot apart, neither of us spoke. But his eyes said everything as he drank in my nudity, his gaze touching every curve, every shadow and goosebump, openly devouring me. I shivered and burned all at once, watching him the way he watched me.
His soaked jeans clung to his powerful thighs and hung low on his hips, exposing the cuts of his abs and the rivulets of rainwater following the ridges. Shadows cast over his face, streaked by wet strands of hair that plastered his forehead and temples. And his eyes… They blazed with a look I’d never seen on him before. He looked consumed. Possessed. Starved.
Closing the final foot between us, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my hairline, to each of my eyebrows, and the bridge of my nose. With a hand on my chin, he tilted my face upward and brushed his lips over my cheeks, across my jaw, and the tip of my nose.
I held my breath, afraid I’d miss the sound of his, afraid one wrong movement would shatter the moment.
The rain immersed us, washing away the day’s regrets, oblivious of the night’s impossible choices. There was a limit to how far this could go. I closed my eyes and accepted whatever Jesse was willing to give.
His hands curled around my neck, and his mouth moved across my cheek, slow and teasing, lingering on the corner of my lips. It was too much.
I sank my fingernails into his biceps and centered my stance, fully aware that I, Evie Delina of Hornyville, was about to use a Kung Fu move with the intent to molest him. “If you don’t kiss me—”
He crashed his mouth against mine, his hands locking my head at an angle as his tongue plunged past my lips. I fell against him, adrift in the hard grip of his fingers, in his earthy taste, and in the ferocity of his aggression.
I returned the kiss with fervor, holding onto his arms with shaking hands, my feet braced in the wet grass, determined to stay upright. Though I knew, heaven help me, I’d already fallen.
My need for him burst into an insatiable hunger, jolting through my body and tightening between my thighs. Mouths locked in a frenzy, our lips mashed together, hot and wet and bruising. I hooked a leg around his ass and ground against him, wantonly, wildly, unable to relieve the demanding pressure.
Kissing was the ultimate sexual seduction, a man’s tongue an extension of his arousal. It mimicked the thrust of his cock like a warning, a promise of pleasure so intense it could stroke away all thought and leave a woman quivering and breathless and completely under his power.
Jesse had conquered the exquisite skill and made it his own. Each whip of his tongue sent electricity to my toes. Every bite of his teeth rang a tinkling note of pleasure in my ears. His full lips were everywhere, his gasps pushing me harder, higher, elevating me to a state of intoxication.
As the rain ebbed into a sprinkling shower and my lips smarted with delicious prickles, his hands closed around my shoulders. He sucked and nuzzled my bottom lip, his tongue sliding over the swollen skin. I could feel him preparing to pull away.
I dug my fingernails into his biceps, holding him to me.
He broke the kiss, breathing heavy and fast against my mouth. “This is a first for me.”
I stared at his hands as they glided down my chest, cupping and squeezing my breasts. I was lost, trembling, aroused to the point of insanity. “What?”
His caress became rough like his breaths, his fingers pinching and rolling my nipples then molding around my breasts and testing their weight. “I’ve never kissed in the rain.”
A first with Jess
e? This thrilled me to no end.
I stared at his lips. Swollen, perfectly-shaped, and beaded with moisture. Good lord, his mouth thrilled me, too.
“I’ve never done this in the rain either.” He dropped to his knees, bringing his hungry eyes inches from my pussy.
My hands sank into his sopping hair. My legs trembled so viciously I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to stand.
He’d never been this intimate with my body, and as his palms traveled down my sides, over my hips, and curved inward to part my legs, I hoped for a long night of firsts.
He ducked his head, pressed his nose against my clit, and stilled.
Oh God. Was he smelling me? When was the last time I bathed? I’d had laser-hair removal years ago, but I needed to shave the stragglers and—
“Heaven.” Arousal thickened his voice. He ran a finger up and down my slit, sliding deeper with each pass. “You’re wet.” His tongue darted out, teasing my folds. “For me.”
“For you.” My head dropped back, and the precipitation quickly formed a sheen on my face.
Like his kiss, his tongue dove between my legs without apology. He licked and sucked savagely, his groans vibrating against my soaking skin.
His hand clamped my ass, holding me immobile as he drove his fingers inside me. A cry burst from my mouth, but he didn’t relent. My inner muscles clenched around his maddening thrusts, and my clit pulsated against the assault of his tongue.
“Look at me when you come, darlin’. His southern twang was dipped in sex, his eyes like twin flames in the dark.
I gripped his hair and melted around his fingers. Pleasure coiled in my core as he strummed my sensitive nerve-endings, his head leaning back to look up at me.
Tingles scattered through my body, the intensity pulling down on my eyelids. But I concentrated on his beautiful face, his fierce expression, and the eyes that wouldn’t let me go.
That was all it took. I fell over the cliff as my release powered violently around his fingers and spread through every greedy cell in my body. And through the blinding ecstasy, I looked in his eyes and whispered his name.
He stared up at me with a staggering, all-American-rough-around-the-edges smile. "Wow," he mouthed. He cleared his throat, making a low, rasping sound. “Perhaps I’ve laid it on a little too thick tonight, but Evie, you really are beautiful.”
I held his gaze, completely and totally gobsmacked. I felt him beneath my skin, torching his way inside me, lighting me up with his smile, his husky words, and his diabolical touch.
He pressed his forehead against my belly, his fingers slowing inside me but not pulling out. “Is this…?”
I was overstimulated and sated down there, but I could feel the dull prod of his fingers against my cervix. “You feel the string?”
“Yeah.” He pushed deeper. “That’s the IUD?”
I ran a hand through his thick hair and held his head against my stomach. “Yeah. I check it regularly.”
He held his fingers inside me for a long moment. Was he playing with the string? Trying to figure it out? When he finally removed his hand, I squatted down before him, my attention zeroing in on the hard bulge behind his zipper.
“Jesse. I want to…” I reached for him, making a beeline for his cock, anxious to return the pleasure.
He gripped my wrist and used it to shove me out of the way.
I stumbled and fell on my ass. What the hell? I glared up at him, hurt, confused, but he wasn’t looking at me.
Crouched and motionless, he stared out across the field. The intensity etching his profile and locking his muscles made my scalp itch.
I followed his line of sight, but all I saw was pitch-black nothingness. “Jesse?”
“Do you feel aphids?” he whispered.
“No. Nothing.” Not a hint of vibrations. No neon-green silhouettes either.
The flicker of the distant storm pulsed the horizon like a strobe light, illuminating two glowing yellow orbs about fifty yards away.
The sky went black, as did the landscape. I waited for more lightning, waited in the dark, without breath, straining my gaze over the nebulous shapes on the foggy horizon. Smudges of trees, buildings, hills…nothing moved.
I focused on the vicinity of where I had seen the pair of reflective eyes. Had they belonged to a wild animal? A man? Were they moving closer? Fuck, where was the lightning when I needed it?
Digging deep, I searched my internal radar for some indication of aphids, the Drone…or Michio, but my nerves got the best of me, muddling my senses. Was I feeling things that weren’t there, seeing things that didn’t exist?
I was seconds from crawling out of my skin. “Jesse, what was it?”
“Don’t know.” He snapped out of his frozen crouch and gathered my clothes. Then he grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the porch, to our weapons. “Get dressed.”
The sound of rustling grass crept over my back. The squishy slap of wet footfalls drummed in my ears. I spun, facing the wall of rain and inky gloom and the undeniable pound of feet.
Something was running straight for us, and running fast.
Whatever was hurtling toward Jesse and me wasn’t going to wait for me to dress. Spurred by a rush of adrenaline and panic, I darted for the carbine on the porch. Fingers clenched around the familiar weight of the stock, I aimed into the inky darkness.
Behind me, Jesse pounded a fist against the door of the animal clinic and shouted, “Roark!”
Without waiting, he nocked a black and red feathered arrow and stepped beside my barrel, slightly in front of me. His expression transformed into a fearless mask.
The door opened and snicked closed at my back. Roark appeared on my other side, sword raised, his musculature flexed and exposed, encased in a flimsy pair of workout shorts. “Aphids?”
I shook my head, too afraid to make a sound. Could it be Michio? That hope rose and died in my chest. There was no electric hum in my veins. No shouts to warn us he was advancing. Unless…unless the Michio I knew no longer existed, and in his place was…whatever this was.
The footsteps in the distance softened, closer now, maybe twenty yards, almost stalkery in their approach. A reverberating, animalistic growl rumbled from its shadowy location, penetrating my chest like a slow, rattling bass beat.
Roark lifted the sword higher. “What the feck?”
Flashes of lightning forked through the sky, spotlighting not one, but two pairs of eyes. Two four-legged bodies, low to the ground and wolf-like in their shape, but the closest one was three times the size of the one trailing it.
That was all I could make out, before an interval of lightning flashed again. Ten yards away, I glimpsed one creature. Huge powerful muscles illuminated with the landscape. A thick, wet mane encircled a feline face. Huge shoulders seesawed atop a sleek golden back as it glided gracefully through the rain.
I frantically scanned the field behind it, searching for the other animal. But I wasn’t fast enough. The sky darkened, cloaking everything in shadows.
Dread and amazement gripped my insides. Where had a fucking lion been hiding all this time? I fingered the trigger, flinching like a tiny, cornered rabbit, and at the same time loathing the idea of killing such a majestic beast.
“Hold your fire,” Jesse whispered, his elbows locked with the stretch of the bow. “We’ll do this quietly.”
No doubt it was starving, and now that it scented us, there was no chance it would leave without a meal. Better to kill it now than to be trapped in the building while it waited us out.
I felt sick. How many lions were left in the world? What if this was the last one I ever saw? “There’s two…things out there.”
The massive cat bellowed a spectacular roar and charged. My heart stopped, and Roark’s arm slammed against my chest, shoving me backward.
I stumbled, trying to remain upright, and caught a glimpse of movement behind the lion’s sprinting silhouette.
Jesse released the arrow, and the beast jerked sideways, spinn
ing through the rain with a guttural howl. It recovered quickly, its shadow lurching into the air, in our direction, just as the smaller animal slammed into it.
Whatever had been chasing it—A hyena? A bobcat?—clung to the lion’s flank by its jowls, growling and shaking its head. The snarling figures tumbled to the ground in a blur of feral biting, claws, and snapping jaws.
What the fuck kind of animal would attack a lion? I trained the carbine on the wrestling bodies, unsure whether to shoot blindly in the dark or run into the building. Shit! I didn't want to kill a lion, and I definitely didn't want to shoot the other animal until I knew what it was. But if Jesse and Roark weren't running, neither was I.
Jesse didn’t waver, flinging arrow after arrow. He seemed to be hitting them, one or both. It was too damned dark to tell, but eventually, the thrashing slowed and the pained howls silenced.
Jesse glanced at Roark. “Get her inside.” Then he seated another arrow and cautiously stepped into the rain.
“Go down on yourself,” Roark huffed and followed Jesse into the dark, but not before giving me a once over.
I looked down and felt ridiculous, standing there nude and aiming an assault rifle I hadn’t had the balls to use. With my eyes on the black landscape, I snagged my clothes off the porch and dressed in record time.
The door opened behind me, and Shea poked her head out. “Evie? What happened?”
“I’ll explain in a minute. Go back inside.”
I waited for the click of the door then tiptoed into the rain with the carbine at high-ready.
Thirty paces into the dark, I froze. Up ahead, Roark’s silhouette bent over a huge lump, his hand moving along the dark outline. The lion lay motionless on its side, its flank and neck bristled with arrows.
My heart twisted then collapsed inward as Jesse carefully gathered something from the ground. Several feet from Roark, he rose, turning toward me with a bundle of black fur draped over his arms.
“Jesse?” Confusion spun through me. Why was he cradling a wild animal? “What is that?”
He bolted forward, and the urgency in his approach kicked up my pulse. As he ran closer, my eyes adjusted on his taut expression, then lowered, taking in the thing he carried so gingerly. Black hair. Long bushy tail. The triangular point of an ear.