Tempted by Brothers [Temptation, Wyoming 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Zoey Marcel

  Dane massaged her cunt and played in her wetness, bringing her to orgasm quickly. He smothered her feeble outcry with his hand, growling against her skin at the brutal hold her thighs had his cock in. A heartbeat or so later he joined her in climax and pulled back so he ejaculated onto her panties. His creamy essence oozed and thickened in the cotton crotch, and she gaped in sexual bliss when he pulled her pants and underwear back up and then closed her fly for her. His blotches of cum smeared in her pubic hair and then in her slit when Dane grabbed her crotch, forcing his seed deeper into her wet, swollen folds.

  “Think of me, my girl,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I will,” she whispered back.

  They shared a sweet, torrid kiss before he left. Her vagina pulsed in the afterglow and slickness seeped from her.

  Amber wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her virginity a secret from them, but she knew sooner or later she would have to tell them.

  * * * *

  Amber walked into the magic shop after work. She knew Carson and Dane would rather she went home straight away, but she needed some answers.

  Hilary, the witch with a Scottish accent who co-owned the shop with her boyfriend, Cameron Hunter, was organizing a shelf when Amber walked in.

  “Hello. What can I sell you?”

  Amber smiled. Supposedly the curvy brunette was from another century, but she’d been raised from the dead or some such thing. Her dated choice of words at times betrayed this, though she only looked to be in her midtwenties.

  “I actually just had a question I was wondering if you could help me with.”

  Hilary got up and hurried behind the counter, straightening her blouse. “Speak, patron.”

  Amber grinned. “It’s about a friend of mine actually. She was attacked by a lamb with glowing eyes that breathed fire.”

  Hilary’s eyes widened and her face paled.

  “She was in a car accident because of it.”

  “Kate Kensington?”

  “Yeah, I guess you heard.”

  “The whole village knows of her misfortune, aye.”

  Amber smiled a little at the word village. “Anyway, when Kate regained consciousness the lamb was gone, but there was a rosary lying on her body.”

  Hilary looked somehow more pallid despite her tan.

  “My first boy—my friend, Oliver, had a rosary lying on him when he was found dead.” Amber lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “What does it mean?”

  “Well, I would have to look into it, but it sounds remarkably uncanny to a certain gentleman from hell.”

  “Satan?”

  The witch smirked before resuming her expression of apprehension. “No. The Preacher.”

  “What preacher?”

  A man’s voice interrupted. “The Chameleon Preacher.”

  Amber turned to see Joaquin Sullivan, one of the owners of The Gothic Angel, standing near whatever shelf he’d been looking at.

  “What is the Chameleon Preacher?” Amber dared to ask.

  “Trouble, from what I have heard,” Hilary said with a sigh.

  “He’s the least of your worries,” Joaquin said without any promises of sunshine in his smoky tone. “He’s evil, but he’s the mildest of hell’s triad.”

  “Aye, so I understand,” Hilary agreed. “They say the Chameleon Preacher can embody a lamb, a dove, and a lion whenever he chooses. Supposedly he leaves a rosary on the bodies of his victims and enjoys quoting and distorting scripture.”

  Joaquin nodded. “Yes.”

  Amber shivered. “What does he look like when he’s not posing as an animal?”

  “He never looks the same whenever he emerges from hell,” Joaquin said. “He kills a victim and then is able to copy the DNA, physical chemistry, and so on so that he looks exactly like that person. He doesn’t inhabit the corpse like a sanguinary vampire would. He simply mirrors the dead and walks among the living. He could be anywhere…or anyone.”

  Amber shuddered. “But if he killed Oliver, why didn’t he kill Kate?”

  Joaquin said nothing.

  Hilary shrugged when Amber looked to her for some kind of answer.

  Amber hated to betray a confidence, but she figured the information could help save her friend and Austin. “The lamb that caused Kate’s car accident, she said he looked at her vagina and then left. Why didn’t he rape or kill her?”

  Joaquin stilled, looking spooked. “Fuck.”

  Amber panicked. Joaquin struck her as a fearless kind of man and if he was nervous about this omen, then they were all in deep shit. “What is it?”

  “The blood moon is coming,” he said. “He’s looking for a virgin.”

  “Is that why he didn’t take Kate?”

  “If she had no hymen she’s not in danger. The Preacher kills men and women, but with the blood moon coming he’ll be looking specifically for a virgin.”

  “Do you think he is trying to summon them?” Hilary asked.

  “Yes, and if he succeeds Temptation is fucked.”

  “Summon who?” Amber had to know.

  “Ricin.” Joaquin got a far-off gaze, seeming to peer into another dimension. “Hell’s triad consists of three demons, the Preacher, the Poison, and the Blood. The Preacher attacks the body. The Poison, Ricin, fucks the mind before killing his victims, usually years after he seals them as his target. Head games are his favorite weapon.”

  “What about the Blood?” Amber asked, not really sure she wanted to know.

  Joaquin’s steel-gray eyes darkened and he seemed reluctant to discuss it. Still staring into another time and place, he finally spoke. “His methods are superior, far more destructive. He doesn’t kill his victims. He destroys them, starting with the heart. By the time he’s through with them, they’ll wish they were dead, and if they’re lucky he will grant them that mercy.”

  No sunshine and flowers with that man. Amber was beginning to wonder if asking about the ominous occurrences was such a good idea after all.

  Hilary cleared her throat, appearing nervous. “Perhaps it would be best for all the maidens in the village to surrender their innocence to the nearest lad.”

  “It would be wise,” Joaquin agreed, seeming less troubled now. “If there are no adult virgins in town, the Preacher, whoever he is, will be forced to look elsewhere.”

  “I could try a locator spell to find him,” Hilary suggested.

  He shook his head and took a few steps toward the door. “It won’t work on him. The Preacher was designed to hide, but I suggest everyone be on the lookout. Anyone religious or lascivious would be a prime suspect.”

  Hilary snorted. “Most everyone in the village would qualify as lascivious or religious.”

  “Then I suggest you trust no one until the demon is found.” Joaquin headed toward the door. “If he succeeds in obtaining the blood of a virgin and does the summoning spell, Ricin will be freed and carnage will ensue.”

  “Wait.” Amber was hesitant to ask the next part, but she asked anyway. “You said the Poison demon or whatever was named Ricin. What is the Blood’s name?”

  Joaquin stood in such a way that she had a profile view of him. His stormy eyes were downcast and took on a note of familiarity when he said the man’s name. “Nicolai.”

  He looked back at her with a chilling gaze that haunted her. Whatever he wasn’t telling her, had put transparent vulnerability in the eyes of a man who normally embodied a fearless composure of steel that was unreadable.

  “His name is Nicolai.”

  Chapter Ten:

  Mating Heat

  Everyone looked like a suspect. Frigging everyone. Amber had never been more afraid or more eager to give away her virginity in her life, save for the times she spent naked with Carson and Dane. Popping her damned cherry sounded like a fine idea to avoid being stalked by some lunatic preacher from hell.

  On the other hand, a million dollars was a million dollars.

  When Constantine Wrenwar walked into the coffeehouse to
order his usual latte of choice she nearly pissed herself.

  Oh god, a preacher. I wonder if that’s him. Can he tell virgins automatically? Probably not if he flipped up Kate’s skirt to check. Stay calm, Amber. Act natural.

  Constantine gave her a friendly smile. “Good morning, Amber.”

  She squeaked like a scared mouse, trying not to tremble. “Oh god, hi.”

  He gave her a funny look before brushing it off. “How are you this morning?”

  “Promiscuous.”

  Oh god, did I really just say that? What if Stan catches wind of it?

  Constantine blinked at this. “I never judge. I’ll have my usual, please.”

  “A virgin latte?” she whispered in fear.

  Brenda laughed from nearby. “Hon, we don’t have anything like that on the menu, but we should. That and a ho cappuccino. Ah crap, I’m sorry, preacher. I didn’t realize it was you.”

  He smiled and gave her a nod. “Don’t mention it.”

  “Just get him his usual,” Brenda said.

  Amber got to it. Constantine was the nicest of the pastors in town. He was probably innocent.

  Or was he?

  After she handed him his coffee he said good-bye to them and left.

  Brenda came up to Amber and draped an arm over her shoulder. “Is something up with you, toots? Got sex on the brain, huh? Hanging around hot men will do that to you. Wink, wink.”

  Amber blushed when Brenda laughed and got back to work.

  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today.”

  Brenda winked at her. “Yeah, I bet. Are you going on a picnic later with your sexy, striped, big cats?”

  Amber smiled. “Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. It’s kind of a hush-hush relationship.”

  “Oh hell yeah!”

  She cringed when Brenda’s yell of approval attracted attention. If she gained her fortune and managed to stay in Stan’s favor it would be a bloody miracle.

  Bathsheba Kensington came in, turning up her nose when she saw Amber. “I want a nonfat vanilla latte, half sweet. Do you think you can manage that?”

  The condescension annoyed Amber, but she nodded sweetly. “Sure. I’ll get started.”

  “That would be ideal.”

  How the hell did Kate, Austin, and their cousin Maggie turn out so sweet and Bathsheba end up being such a snobby bitch?

  “Someone saw you walk out of the club with the McCann brothers the other night,” Bathsheba accused with a testing scowl.

  Amber grimaced.

  Oh crap, does the whole town know? If so, that means Stan knows. I’m so screwed.

  “Oh.”

  “Are you fucking them?”

  Amber sped up the pace on making Bathsheba’s coffee. “No. W–we just went out a few times. Nothing happened.”

  Bathsheba sneered. “I didn’t think so. You’re not really their type.”

  Amber had a nice image in her head of dowsing the bitch with hot coffee. It was such a satisfying vision. Too bad it could land her butt in jail for a fancy form of assault or whatever charge they’d tack to her name.

  “Well, obviously I am if they keep coming around.”

  Bathsheba glared at her. “It won’t last. Carson is only using you for your freak-sized breasts, and Dane is too kind not to be charitable.”

  Amber’s mouth opened. She was so close, so close to accidentally hurling the scalding latte at the ill-placed other woman. “I assure you there’s nothing charitable about it. Dane claimed me as his life mate, not you.”

  Burn, bitch!

  Bathsheba fumed. “And Carson hasn’t. He’s a player.”

  “He’ll claim me.”

  The dark-haired woman turned smug. “Isn’t your guardian insanely overprotective of you? God, what is his name again? Stan Edwards, that’s right. Does he know you’re running around like a harlot with two men? Aren’t you supposed to be staying pure to inherit a fortune?”

  Amber froze. “How do you know about that?”

  “I know a lot of things. I would take care not to go too far with them if I were you,” Bathsheba warned. “It might result in your guardian hearing things about you that he’d rather not.”

  Amber almost dropped the coffee when Brenda took it from her.

  “You’re still new. You missed an ingredient.” Brenda took the cup behind the counter.

  Amber’s hands shook and she felt sick to her stomach. “I’m still a virgin.”

  “I figured, but a girl can lose her reputation hanging around raunchy men like the McCanns. If I were you I would take care to keep my name squeaky clean and win my inheritance.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  Bathsheba’s tone dropped to match Amber’s hush. “I have friends in many places, and I always get what I want.”

  Brenda cleared her throat and handed Bathsheba’s cup back to her. “Here you go, toots. Enjoy.”

  Bathsheba’s face turned smug on her way out of the coffee shop.

  Amber kept trembling while she tried to distract herself with organizing the counter.

  “You okay?” Brenda asked.

  Amber nodded. “I’ve made vanilla lattes before. What ingredient did I forget?”

  “Spit, hon.” Brenda tossed her a mischievous wink. “That one requires spit in her coffee every now and then when she gets too catty.”

  Amber smiled. “You’re the best, Brenda.”

  “That’s what the boys say when I’m good to them.”

  “TMI.”

  Brenda chortled.

  * * * *

  “You don’t have as many limits as I thought you would.” Dane looked over the list they’d had her fill out of hard and soft limits.

  “Our woman is a tough little bird,” Carson said fondly. “Now get naked.”

  Amber giggled. “Not very subtle, are you?”

  “Not in the slightest. Now start stripping before we tear the clothes off your hot bod.”

  She started to undress, but Carson helped her anyway while Dane made sure the rope hanging from the tree was secure. They pulled her to her feet once she was in the buff and locked her in fur-lined leather bondage cuffs and then threaded the dangling rope through the silver loops attached to the cuffs.

  “I’m glad you’re fine with flogging, Amber. We bought you something a while back, before we ever spoke with you.” Dane rummaged through the bag and pulled out what looked like an oversized black fork made of leather. The stiff strap had three floppy fingers attached to it like some kind of pitchfork and belt had fucked and sired this intriguing instrument of pain.

  “That’s cool looking. What is that?”

  “This, little mate, is a tawse.” Dane presented it to her. “It was handcrafted in Scotland. We ordered it just for you and had it shipped overseas.”

  Carson smirked. “Obviously.”

  Dane shook his head. “We all have our derp moments. What do you think, girl?”

  “I like it. Where are you going to use it?”

  “Just on your ass this time. No need to go crazy on the first strapping.” Dane nuzzled her. “Do you trust me?”

  “Completely.” She felt open saying that to him, as stripped bare on the inside as she was currently on the outside, but the words felt right.

  He planted a kiss on her forehead. “That’s my girl.”

  I’m his girl, their girl. Not anybody else.

  She immediately shoved Bathsheba from her mind lest this encounter with her men be ruined.

  Dane got another item from the bag, this one much gentler in nature. He rubbed the soft fur against her cheek and then glided it down her breasts. “This is a rabbit pelt. I’m going to alternate between the pain of the tawse and the caress of fur on your skin. You’ll love it.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

  “I’ve got plans for you, too, sugar lips.” Carson brought two thermoses over.

  She winked at him playfully. “Are you going to get drunk and watch?”

  He frowned and the
n his lips swiveled up to form a crooked smile. “Sassy little thing. I’m going to torment your sexy little cunt with hot and cold sensations until you’re either pleading for me to stop or begging for an orgasm.”

  She moaned, growing wet and tingly.

  “Remember our titles, Amber,” Dane reminded her.

  “Yes, Sir. What is my safe word?”

  “It’s still red.” Carson eyed her knowingly, undoubtedly catching the slip in her attempt to mask her disappointment. “When you’re completely ours you’ll get a personalized one.”

  “It feels like I’m completely yours.”

  The slight swish of his shoes kicking against green blades of grass when he closed the distance dividing them sounded soothing and sensual.

  “You’ll be completely ours when we have all of you.” Carson cupped her freshly waxed mons that had been turned to the texture of a Sphynx cat the day before. “You hold back with us, baby. When you truly surrender everything to us, then you’ll know what it means to be ours.”

  She wanted that now, but monetary reasons shot a hole in her sex drive. No matter how horny she got she must never forget the cost of giving up her virginity before her thirtieth birthday, as damned much of a hassle waiting was.

  Dane draped the rabbit pelt over her shoulder and then dragged it slowly down her back, across her buttocks, and finally down and back up her thighs. Amber moaned and spread her legs, letting the bunny fur seduce the nectar from her excited pussy.

  Carson ogled her nude sex with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. “Hot naked cunt.”

  “I know,” Dane agreed from behind her. “She looks so gorgeous and fuckable. I can’t wait to sink my cock up her pussy.”

  She gulped and licked her lips.

  Not for several months, gentlemen.

  Carson unscrewed the lid to each thermos. “You want hot or cold first?”

  “You pick…Sir.” She remembered the title when his predatory blue-green eyes warned her.

  Her obedience gratified him, and he took a drink from the thermos she supposed to contain a hot beverage judging by the foggy steam that rose from it.