Sanibel Burn Vampire Werewolf Menage
Page 3
“Mate you,” he snarled.
“We already did that, remember? I’m your mate...so continue,” she stirred her backside, naturally enticing him. At once, Bren’s beast rewarded her for naughty behavior. Maybe reward was the wrong term. Further spreading her legs with his strong knees, he nudged himself against her bottom. His fully transformed werewolf had never breached her there. Because of his size, that thought alone was alarming. While he was surprisingly gentle, she still freaked out. Tatum’s body went to lock down as she screamed hysterically for Jayce.
2
Six minutes had passed since Jayce heard Tatum’s cry for help. Anything could happen in that amount of time. Where the hell was Rock? He was the toughest son of a bitch besides Bane. He had fought wolf after wolf for his position to protect the queen, and now she pleaded for help. He rubbed his chest against the sensation of pure terror while the twigs snapped under his blurring feet. In mid-transformation, he quickly arrived at The Blue Pelican. Glamouring his body from humans, he smelled her in the corridors of the resort. Nondescriptly gliding through the mortal tourists, he headed in the direction of her scent. Puzzling the most was the lack of unknown scents around her. Sure, there were random humans, but no other Weres besides Bren and Rock. What was all the commotion about?
“It’s your entire fault,” Tatum snapped at Rock, deeply embarrassed by the bizarre domestic scene. Not to forget, while wearing her birthday suit, Bren continued to point his ‘hard-on rifle’ at her belly. Oh, so cozy, she thought, continuing to yell at Rock since he wouldn't go away. “He’s hell-bent on marking his territory since you’re guarding me. Just leave and he’ll snap out of it.” Did he need a car to fall out of the sky and drop on his head? Take the sodding hint, wolf.
Rock studied Tatum. Next to an overturned desk, backed into a corner with Bren’s wolf pressing her naked body against his naked body. One thing for sure: She wasn’t getting out of this whether he left or not. Obviously, this was a private matter between her and her mate. He would never interrupt such trivial squabbles and lovers’ games, but the queen was involved, which changed things. “I can’t leave you screaming and carrying on unless the Alpha says so.”
“The Alpha says so,” Jayce’s deep voice filled the doorway, followed by his massive body. “Take a run, Rock.”
“Sure, Alpha.” Rock took another quick glance at the situation and mentally locked the door behind him.
“Okay, Tatum,” Jayce stepped forward, only to receive a warning snarl by his best friend, “what started this?” He knew exactly what started it.
“I came here to talk to him…about, well…,” she pushed the sweat-dampened hair from her face.
“About your business,” he maintained eye contact with her while hardening at the scent of her wetness, “the same business you were asked to wait about?”
“It doesn’t matter because I haven’t even had the chance to discuss it with him. Bren became all wild…and irrational.” With a moist breath heating her dusky nipple, Bren's funky tongue snaked out, giving it a righteous flick.
“Irrational,” Jayce repeated, watching Bren’s wolf twist his tongue around their mate’s impressive breasts. Yeah, work could wait. “You didn’t have to talk it over with him since I already have. We’re on the same page.”
“I’m not on the same page,” her voice hitched when Bren’s mouth reached her navel.
“We’re not human.” Voice dropping an octave, his eyes took a walk over Tatum’s luscious body, and Bren’s current worship service, “we don’t share our mate with others, business or otherwise. Your diverted attention doesn’t sit well with us. The same collective agreement goes with any male of our species and his mate.”
“That’s so,” she was halted mid-sentence by Jayce’s kiss. One second he was in front of the door, next, he was against her without his clothes.
“Delicious,” he breathed over her heart-shaped lips. His friend hadn’t taken another swipe at him. Always forgiving to Bren’s wolf, but one more outburst, they would have to step into the marsh and settle things, Were to Were, away from Tatum. They had frightened her enough, and what Jayce needed to tell his love was shocking. Especially for someone brought up solely as a human. Temporarily, he tossed those thoughts aside and gave Tatum what she badly needed.
Tatum was sinking into the massive black hole of Jayce and Bren. She didn’t know how it happened or why it happened. What she did know was that this was diabolical distraction in a purely carnal form. Tatum also knew that she felt better with Jayce there since Bren still hadn’t called down the beast. Tongues, hands, and searing flesh overtook her mind…overrode her body. “Calm yourself, hellcat,” Jayce’s lips skimmed her shoulder, reminding her he was there, protecting her.
Jayce and Bren were objects of nocturnal fantasies. Seduction in its most lethal form, they ensured a double take – from women and men alike - wherever they went. Turned on whatever they walked by, and paid no attention to anyone but her. It was humbling, exciting, overwhelming, not to mention, inhumanly erotic. Tatum was a lucky, lucky girl. Better than their outrageous sexual prowess, they had bestowed their hearts upon her, which was what meant the most.
Werewolves weren’t the furry, overgrown German Shepherds of fairytales. They were monsters hidden behind folk lore legends. The more one dug into the birth of their existence, the more muddled the mind became, as if it were a long-ago spell cast for a diversion. Their bodies excluded ancient power, the beast – the Were when transformed – displayed a colored image, darkening the skin, over the corporeal form that housed it. With that body, it shared a brain, unanimous power, and an appetite of carnage. Werewolves walked upright, conveyed some verbal communications, sprouted claws, canines, and a wicked, wicked tongue. Among its hungers was the one most feral: its need for its mate. If anything got in the way of a werewolf and said mate, it was a signed death warrant with no trial or a jury of peers.
After a calculated repositioning, Jayce held her by her shoulders while Bren gripped her hips, floating between the two. If they dropped her... nah, they wouldn’t drop her. Dense flesh met the crease of her mouth. Clear fluid lubricated her lips, preparing her for a primal feast. Jayce was always tasty. Thanks to him, she was well versed in oral attentions. Tatum had learned to breathe through her nose, stay calm, and take him to the back of her throat while using various techniques that satisfied the beast. In a manner of two weeks, she had become quite the pro. If she weren’t mistaken, Jayce thought so, too.
“What a hungry little hellcat,” he inhaled sharply. “Let me know how much you like it.”
They mutually shook when she took him whole, all the way to her throat. Considering his size, blowing Jayce was an award worthy feat. Finally, Bren had returned inside, and she groaned her approval around Jayce’s cock while they held and invaded her from both ends. Giving up this kind of control was always necessary since Tatum needed a time to fall while they caught her. It was a counterpoint to her rebellious nature.
“We’ll always catch you,” Jayce answered through clenched teeth while reading the pathway of her thoughts. He could hear them, here and there. A mystical gift usually reserved for an Alpha and other strong ancients. “How many orgasms do you want?”
He didn’t release her to answer. Apparently, it was a rhetorical question. Bring it on, she mentally shouted. His answering laugh echoed Bren’s office.
Starting at her lower back, Bren scraped his canines along the divot of her spine while never breaking stride. He didn’t lick to ease the slight pain, but followed the same path the opposite way, which increased the pressure and the resulting sting. She knew he wanted to bite her. She knew she wanted that bite. A warning breath heated her skin before Bren deeply sank his teeth into the side of her breast. Liquid ecstasy traveled across her body, touching her everywhere it roamed. He hadn’t bitten her since the full moon, only a scrape or nip here and there. She wondered about this extra possessiveness but forgot it with each stroke of his body inside hers a
ccompanied by each draw of blood he swallowed.
“Damn,” Jayce hissed, while the back of his head struck the wall. “I smell her blood, feel her silky tongue, and hit the curve of her throat every time you thrust, man.” He braced eyes with Bren’s wolf. “I want to be in my female,” An Alpha’s orders.
Bren pulled Tatum from Jayce, spun her on his pelvis, and carried her through the doorway of the adjoining efficiency suite. Still attached to his body, the ride thrust mini orgasms to the opening of her cervix. In his bestial form, Bren reached seven and half feet and his sex expanded in proportion to that form. Hence, Tatum’s earlier reservations regarding his taking her ass while transformed.
“My sweet little mate,” Jayce’s kissed her cheek, noticing her body tremble. “The Alpha want’s out. Bren’s going to finish and start…”
“Not there,” she argued while Bren nipped the base of her throat and continued to move his body inside hers.
He let out a frustrated sigh. “You can’t deny him any longer. He has to live with that thing constantly growling for you in his head. Think about that the next time you say no. Think about having a monster beat the inside of your skull until you want to split down the middle. It won’t hurt. You know it won’t hurt. I’ll take care of you.”
“You’re going to change,” she whispered and clutched Bren’s massive shoulders. His wolf was too good at sex, though she just didn’t want him there.
Not answering, he showed her instead, releasing himself to the Alpha male. A jolt of red lit the room, rumbling threatened the walls, and then a drunken headiness entered Tatum’s body, pushing her to the Alpha’s will. His pull over his mate. Tatum briefly closed her eyes, not ready to see him. Jayce was quite intimidating as a human, but as the Alpha, well, horrifyingly impressive was a gross understatement.
Growling started between the two, and then wordless communication flowed efficiently, anchoring them to a shared goal. Tatum wasn’t privy to that; undoubtedly, the silent conversation involved her. It didn’t matter; she knew what was going to happen, couldn’t fight the Alpha’s celestial allure. While still holding her upright, Bren pushed her against the wall and plunged deeply, one ultra-slow, agonizing push after another with her ankles locked around his taut, sweat-glazed flesh. She loved digging her feet into his fine ass. “You’re making me crazy,” her breaths became shallow, tightening her chest. “Let me come.”
Bren’s fiery eyes met the dilated pupils of Tatum’s, declaring, “My female.” He ground his hips counterclockwise and hit her spot just so.
She’d asked for it but still tensed and fought, afraid to give in to that strong of an orgasm. They were the orgasms that made her faint, inducing sleep for hours. The werewolf narrowed his blazing eyes while Bren’s lip arrogantly curled at the corner, misting in and out. She knew that look. It was the ‘Daddy’s gonna get you’ look. “Oh, shit.”
Bren came. His full balls were heavy and his liquid possessive. It owned Tatum with every pulse, every magnificent hammer that hit her walls. She couldn’t hold on. Behind her eyelids, the stars called Tatum’s name. The atmosphere lightened around her body, carrying her to that forbidden place few mortals ever entered, only the fortunate mates. “Fuck,” she thought she heard someone say. Maybe she said it, who knew?
Now Jayce and Bren had what they wanted: two randy werewolves and an exhausted female. That was when they made their moves every time. Tatum’s back met the soft linens of the bed. Three breaths in one long push out. Doubled. Three breaths in one long push out. Another deep inhalation followed by an extraordinarily long exhale and a high-pitched groan. Heavy palms weighed down feminine knees, pushing them down in opposite directions, spreading them wide. Marked inhalations sniffed pink flesh. Both enjoying her scent mixed with Bren’s voluminous load. Parallel tongues trailed her inner thighs. Each had a leg while lapping towards the middle. After weeks passed, Tatum hadn’t gotten used to the erotic bliss, sensations of extra skilled hands, two potent tongues, and unnerving body heat delivered by two colossal bodies.
When tonguing her, Jayce’s near favorite part was the line that joined the thigh to the pelvis. Once, she complained the crease was where it grew the sweatiest and wanted to shower first. Jayce said it was best without the shower, since the musk of his mate grew the strongest there. He spent extra time nuzzling Tatum’s crease while Bren moved his crazy tongue over her sensitive lips. One long swipe, course tongue equals no mercy. Two long swipes plus a deep thrusting lick teased the spot experts, all men, still claimed women didn’t have. Three long swipes would’ve had her off the bed if not for their weight on her knees.
Fingers widely separated her labia as a strong palm lifted her bottom off the bed. She was entirely open and thoroughly soaked. The heavy fluid from Bren’s wolf journeyed to her back hole. A deliberate detour meant to lubricate and expand her other opening. As Bren continued to ready her there, Jayce gently slid his hands up her body, mindful of his claws. Stopping to lap at the dried blood that dotted her breast, his expression changed, filling with bloodlust, and the need for primal sex. Tatum’s blue eyes met his. He was hungry, craving her with every heartbeat that pulsed inside his cock.
Jayce could talk, didn’t want to. Actions met their desire as he turned Tatum in his arms and slowly eased her on his waiting thickness. Gravity speaks volumes. One thrust, an approval snort from Jayce’s beast, an aggressive pinch on her bloody nipple, another fang-fuck from Bren, and she tore at Jayce’s skin trying to escape the next ripple effect consuming her. Bren tightened on her throat, never giving her an inch to take back her jugular, while easing smoothly into her ass. His answering groan filled the room, pure pleasure in a bestial form.
A sudden pinch, a full burn, and an indescribable loss of control hit Tatum. Noises bounced off the walls, mostly animal. Bren’s incredible width slid in and out of her bottom, grinding against Jayce’s pulsating cock. A thin membrane separated the three. She could feel Bren’s pleasure. His craving rewarded. The dominion over his mate finally fulfilled. Slurping next to her ear, he released her throat and sniffed his mark.
Gathering the hair on her nape, Jayce delivered a hard kiss, claiming ownership. Canines scraped Tatum’s lower lip, and he zeroed in on the resulting welt. “Drink form me,” his guttural voice commanded while slicing his neck with a black claw. She had no choice; with his bloodlust, Bren had weakened her. Latching on Jayce’s throat, she closed her eyes, swallowing the warmth he offered. This time, it felt right to drink of him, letting him sustain her. Their three bodies worked in time. In and out, slide and pull, push and release, sparring and making peace, she relaxed against Jayce’s hard chest while drinking. Tightly clutching his shoulders with every draw, she gave her body away, sating the animals that were her men. They repeatedly rewarded her in return; Tatum’s heart was inseparable from them and forever would be.
“My mate,” Jayce licked the shell of her ear, gliding harder, faster.
“Love, mine,” Bren pressed closer, going deeper. Both males tensed, simultaneously shattering and hurling Tatum into an epic climax. When the stars made their second appearance for the night, she gave herself to the sky.
Deep in the Florida Everglades
Cool red nails clacked the mahogany desk that held the history of many generations past. Many generations now denied because of the deathblows delivered weeks ago. The North American Alpha, Jayce Jordan, had killed her babies. Mike had never swatted a fly, even refused to hunt as an animal. Jody, well she was another story altogether. Still, the pain was insurmountable. What it cried for was revenge. Principia’s children should have never set foot in America; neither should have any of the other family members. That move was becoming commonplace between the Scott and Irish Weres, influencing their young to leave. Males trying to find the mates they couldn’t locate on homelands and females eager for more independence, away from their overprotective fathers. Principia relocated with her grown babies, not wanting to separate, trying, in vain, to watch over them.
“I refuse to kill the queen,” he firmly responded, never once considering her illogical request. “Starting a war within this pack is not going to gain justice, but slaughter many of our own.”
“Then they die in honor,” Principia fiercely roared, her eyes pleading in contrast.
“There are other ways,” Ciaran followed the scope of the swamp, rubbing a fingertip inside his ear, wishing she wouldn’t bellow so. Turning, he met his aunt’s intense, possibly insane, gaze. “The queen has sisters,” he raked a hand through his coarse hair, some pieces longer than others and deathly black throughout. “To kill a sibling would not ignite an inner-pack war. A fight or a challenge yes, but no war could be sanctioned or legalized.” His shrug was casual; the light reflected on the face metal that pierced his angelic features – a contrast in pretty and terrifying. “Rumors are...”