Weeping Willow [Fang Fest 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

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Weeping Willow [Fang Fest 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 4

by Vin Stephens


  “Would my greedy puss like to give Garret fellatio, too?” She purred and was led to her next treat. Garret already had his member out and was stroking it vigorously. Willow licked her lips and feasted on his pulsing cock.

  At her master’s bidding, she sashayed back and forth between the randy men. She exploded while deep-throating Jhor. Altair slid down to chew on her clit, hungry lapping at her juices. He simultaneously finger pumped her pussy and vibrated the butt plug. A second climax followed hot on its heels as Garret dexterously slipped into a sixty-nine position allowing them to gorge on each other’s pubic domains with noisy tongues and bruising teeth. Altair’s harsh whisper, “I’m going tae fist fuck ye wee pussy,” was all the warning she got before he put his words to action. She was filled to overflowing, her tender tissue stretched to capacity. Nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught on tremulous sensations. Rippling orgasms crashing and colliding, one overlapped another, sent liquid fire from the depths of her womb to stream down her thighs. And not once had they inflicted the crippling pain and disgrace her marriage had been filled with.

  Tears trailed silently down her cheeks. She choked as Altair rocked her in his arms and whispered. “Tis good. Let it all out, mae sweet weeping Willow.” He cradled her until her tears were spent before tilting her mouth up for a hot kiss. With his tongue fiercely dueling hers, his warning penetrated her thoughts. “Now run. Flee mae pet fer the wolves must hunt. Be warned, my wee puss. We hunt as a pack. We’ll fuck ye as a pack.”

  * * * *

  Altair watched her carefully. Fear would do her good, especially once she did battle with and overcame it. But he did not want her petrified. She appeared, as he’d hoped, languid and lackadaisical from their foreplay. He marveled at her courage. She’d been through hell because of a man he was ashamed to call brother, yet her little body gave trust so quickly. It was so fragile, like a fluttering butterfly in the palm of his huge hands. It would take great restraint to never crush this precious gift—as his brother had done.

  “Rules, mae sweet puss. Ye’ll have a head-start of half the hour. Run. Hide.” Using control he allowed a single claw to extend. With infinite care he ran the nail over her pert nipples. Now his beast needed to earn her trust. “Ye’ll have the entire underground passageways as yer field tae escape. Ye willnae go above stairs. And ye’ll stay in role.”

  Her eyes were round, filled with inquietude. That would not do. He acquiesced a little. “When the time is up we come fer ye. If we doonae hunt ye down within ten minutes, ye win.”

  Jhor gave him a stunned look. “My Laird—”

  Altair shot him a lethal stare. “We willnae trouble Willow further.” To her he reassured, “Win and ye’re free tae go tae ye room.”

  “But if you do catch me?” Determination resonated in her tone.

  “Then my sweet puss ye willnae see ye bed until the sun reaches its zenith.”

  Her tenacity and willingness to try new ventures pleased Altair. The flicker of excitement and not so subtle challenge in her moss-green eyes inflamed his senses. “How will I know when my time is up?”

  “Simple.” He inclined his head to his brethren. As fluid as a single entity they transformed. Their huge beastly forms reached Willow’s chest height. “I’ll tell ye.”

  Willow’s jaw dropped to her chest. The trio froze, allowing her to look her fill. She would have to learn that as formidable as they appeared, control was etched within their cores. It bound them as brothers. He, as pack leader, would tear out the throat of any who overstepped the limits. Innocent humans were never to be harmed. And unlike the beliefs held by some barbaric sects of their breeds, they didn’t view humans as food. Succulent treats? That was another matter entirely.

  One minute flowed into two, and then another. “Can I touch you? My father isn’t as—” She swallowed and tried again, “Murdock wasn’t so—”

  “—large?”

  “—virile.” Her attention seemed to be riveted on Garret’s thick, snowy fur. “Will you bite? God, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Don’t fucking grin, ye preening imbecile. She willnae thank ye fer showing those fangs.” Jhor’s warning came in the nick of time. Garret remained stoic.

  “Firstly, I’ll accept Murdock’s name falling from ye plump lips only till I’ve eradicated him from ye mind. Secondly, ye can touch tae yer heart’s desire—after the game’s been played. And sorry lass, but aye. We will bite. Lastly. turn ye eyes tae Garret again and his blood stains ye hands. Brethren or nae, I’ll rip out his throat if he touches ye without mae permission.”

  Willow’s gaze flew back to him. “Are you jealous?”

  “Enough to murder.”

  “Then let the game begin. Firstly, Murdock who? Secondly, it’s not just my heart that compels me to touch your beast. Save your sorry. If your bite is half as pleasurable as that the first one, you welcome to it. And I find your possessiveness extremely arousing.”

  Altair growled softly. “Start running pussycat.”

  She crawled to the door and tossed down the gauntlet before exiting, “Lastly. I will consider if I want to win.” Her laughter echoed through the emptiness.

  Jhor kept his eyes on the vacant door. “I want to be in her mind Altair.”

  “Fuck. I need to be in her. Eh, Altair? Did she happen tae mention anything else about me, in her mind?”

  “Nothing. After I mentioned I’ll gladly decapitate ye pretty head should she look too close again.”

  The white wolf whined. Altair ignored him utilizing the time to grieve the pain he’d witnessed. Had he known Murdock’s crazed nature had extended to his wife, he would have put a stop to it earlier. Why had her father not intervened? Did the man not care or was he simply a coward? Murdock was beyond his reach. Lucien Catelli wasn’t.

  “Are you coming, my Laird?”

  She’d learned that trick fast enough. Having a woman’s voice in his mind was a potent aphrodisiac. His howl echoed through the maze of alleys. “The prey taunts us, brothers. Tonight we all get want we want.” Willow.

  A full twenty minutes before their time limit three wolves raced to the door. They sniffed, nodded to each other and took off in different directions. The hunt was on.

  * * * *

  Willow was naked, lost in the dark, covered in dust and had a stitch in her side the size of a football. She never felt better. Sitting on her haunches, careful not to let any part of her body touch the wall full of God knows what creepy-crawlies, she rested.

  The white wolf was a splendid specimen, fur as soft looking as fresh snow and crystal blue eyes. Even its mouth resembled the kissable sensuality of the man. Garret’s beast appeared the least intimidating. Perhaps that was because he looked so much like an Alaskan Husky, wild yet sweetly approachable.

  The black as sin creature could have passed for the hound guarding hell’s gate. He was massive with searing obsidian eyes, hard and intense. He radiated ruthlessness and masculinity.

  Oh and the gray. Conjuring up his façade made her shiver. On the wolf, thick ash coat and granite eyes, gray ceased to be bland. It represented an unquestionable foundation of discipline and authority. Standing proud at the center of his pack, wielding power and holding the reins of control with natural ease, he didn’t just expect respect and uncontested obedience. He demanded it. Being a leader wasn’t hadn’t been taught to him. He was born to it.

  Yes, Murdock had ruled her. But his weapon had been cruelty. Here three beasts, larger then life, siphoned her respect. God, they turned her on. She’d have to keep this physical. This was a trade-off, bartering her body for her people and a child. Business transactions involved the head—and body apparently—not heart.

  He rose slowly, mist stealing over unsuspecting darkness. She caught just a flash from the corner of her eye. She bolted. He was hard on her heels. Her heart pounded. He would pounce any second. But time ticked on. The distance remained constant. She took the bend sharply, scraping her elbow. She stumbled to a halt. Adren
aline heightened awareness. Instinct kicked in.

  “Five minutes, sweet puss. Can ye hold out? Dare ye?” teased Altair.

  Did she want to win? Winning actually meant losing didn’t it? That didn’t mean she intended making it easy for them. Her sixth sense proved right. Further down the dark alley the shadow moved. She’d almost run straight into a trap. Not yet. “You want me. You’ll have to work for it.”

  She faltered at the harsh growl in her head. It vibrated through her body like a lover’s stabbing cock. Partially crippled by the force he held over her, she was late in noticing the dark shape’s stealthy advance. Behind her, the white wolf progressed, seeming to derive pleasure in his steady capture. They were fleet footed yet they appeared to linger. They were toying with her. Unnerved, she rose to her feet. She stepped back, stopped, forward. Why didn’t they just end it?

  Her lower spine pressed into something round. Grappling, she discovered a door knob and twisted. Locked. “Doors. Doors,” she muttered desperately under her breath as she skimmed the wall, cobwebs and crawlies forgotten. Her hand curled around another. Rattled. Locked. “Dammit.”

  “Two minutes. Tick, tock, little pet.”

  No. I refuse to be taken on this filthy floor. The wolves were close. She could almost hear their breathing. Claw scratched against stone. She broke out into an icy sweat. She loped across the passage, seeking more doors. This one was unlocked, but jammed. Her shoulder hurt as she rammed against it. The wood remained wedged. “Damn you.”

  Amusement filtered into Altair’s voice. “We’ll fuck ye on the cold floor while the rats and spiders watch. One minute.”

  Willow backtracked, heading straight for the white wolf. The black was more impatient, ominous—threatening. Another locked door. She kicked. Wincing at her sore toes, she limp-hopped to the next. The knob turned. The wood swung open. Bright light blinded her.

  “Five seconds. Ye lose.”

  “No.” Willow scrambled in. “You haven’t caught me.”

  “Havenae I?”

  “Oh God.” She knew even before looking. He dominated the room’s center, a boastful alpha, savoring his victory. Her escape was cut off as white and black sealed the exit. “You planned it.” Their progress had been intentionally drawn out. They’d herded her. Altair had goaded her into clumsiness. She hadn’t stood a chance.

  “The pack always wins.”

  He leapt. Paws as huge as her face brought her down hard. Breath knocked out, scream logged in her throat, she stared up helplessly. His fangs were barred, nostrils flared. Ruthless eyes of not one, but three savage beasts bore into her. Hot breath fanned over her arms as the other two moved in. The gray inclined his stately head. They attacked as one.

  Razor points sank into her shoulders. Shards of pain and pleasure mingled. Liquid fire coursed through her veins. She screamed. They fed. She came. Her body jerked uncontrollably, over and over. The climax was powerful. It drained her.

  Willow came awake slowly. Hearing voices, she tried to move. She couldn’t. She tried to call out. It was impossible. Her shoulder stung. The smell of antiseptic and lavender-scented soap permeated the air. Suddenly Altair’s face appeared above her.

  His lips moved with excruciating tenderness over hers. “Welcome to our world, wee Willow.”

  “Are ye all right, baby?”

  Oh my God. That was Garret’s divine voice in her head. “Did you...Am I?”

  “Nay, Red. Ye cannae shift, but we can all communicate intimately now. Ye blood. Tis sweet excelsior.”

  “Jhor?” Having three voices in her mind was anything but intimate. It was crowded leaving little room for her own thoughts.

  “Hush sweetling. Doonae panic.” Altair kissed a sensual path along her jaw, nibbling at her as though she were a tasty snack. “Ye’ve been a naughty puss. Didnae I say stay in role? ‘Twas a two-legged kitty that waltzed in here.”

  “You made me nervous.”

  “Good.” He moved away, leaving her cold and abandoned. “It wouldnae be right tae leave ye unpunished.”

  The promise of punishment brought Willow to full awareness. “What the hell? You tied me.”

  “Naturally. I wouldnae want ye tae hurt yeself.”

  She wrenched but it was useless. She was fastened to a chilly metal table, hands and legs widespread. It was a vulnerable position. “Hurt me—or you?”

  He thought that was incredibly funny. Laughter clouded her thoughts as he picked up a flogger. Jhor and Garret appeared at her sides. They wasted no time. Her breasts were hungrily devoured, first with their eyes, then tongues and teeth. Willow arched into their eager mouths.

  Their bodies were glorious, tanned to golden perfection and sculpted with tightly packed muscle. They were beautiful creatures and even more magnificent men. Altair touched the flogger to her exposed clit. She moaned.

  The strike came fast. She gulped down a scream, which eventually released on a gasp. His wet tongue soothed the burning flesh. Widely stretched legs left her pussy uninhibited. He easily parted her petals for a deeper taste. His cruel tongue tormented her bud in quick succession He teased her entrance with the flogger’s stiff handle. She tottered on a precipice. The cunning mouth left her. Bereft, she wept in desperation.

  “Nay I willnae have ye cum on mae tongue. Tis Garret’s beautiful mouth ye crave sucking ye cunt?”

  “Yes. Oh yes, please.” His vulgar words and Garret’s sly smile turned her on.

  Garret’s mouth wasn’t just gorgeous to look at. It didn’t just sprout beautiful words. His talented plump lips and greedy tongue coaxed her once again to the edge.

  The strap came down hard, singing the tender flesh on her mons. Altair instructed, “Eat me, mae wee puss. I want my cock deep inside ye sweet mouth.” He lubricated her lips with sticky pre-cum and fed her a generous mouthful of delicious molten steel. Altair wasn’t patient. He grabbed a fistful of hair and aided as he pumped furiously. He tasted of wild-grass, exotic spice and pure man.

  Having had his fill, Garret slid over her body. Jhor left her breasts for Garret to feast and moved to the table’s end. “Fuck, Garret. I cannae wait all night.”

  Garret centered his throbbing erection and thrust into her starved pussy to the hilt. Willow whimpered against Altair’s thick base. He smoothed her hair back and ordered, “Mae naughty kitty has misplaced her tail. Jhor has something better fer yer luscious fanny.”

  Jhor pulled until her buttocks dangled of the metallic edge. He positioned himself and sucked his fingers. Sleek with saliva his digits tantalized her back entrance. His tip was blunt and burned his way into her. Each time he slipped out, he entered to explore deeper. Garret and Altair paused allowing her full attention to be held by Jhor’s invasion of her tight posterior.

  Finally he was fully submerged. Sweat peppered Willow’s flesh. Her every orifice was crammed. She was complete.

  “Ye willnae come until I give ye permission.” Altair splayed the flogger over her nipples, adding its torture to Garret’s bruising teeth. “Ye will wait for mae command, sweet puss.”

  Willow mumbled incoherently. It took all of her strength not to wiggle and encourage the men to move.

  “Nay, my puss. Ye will be patient.” The cold tip passed over her nipples—once, twice. Garret’s arms strained as he lifted and held his weight above her. His eyes were squeezed shut, the veins on his neck bulging. She knew he waited. They all waited. Their Laird master’s decree was held in an iron-clad fist. The anticipation built and burned to snapping point.

  “Now.” Tension broke as the strap whipped across her erect nipples. As one they withdrew and plunged, her ass, pussy and mouth—perfect synchronizing, sleek and fluid. Deep within her the pressure imploded. “Aye. Weep fer me, sweet Willow.”

  Heat poured from her as she yelled. The men didn’t lose focus. The abrasion of the triple cocks slammed in and out. Her climax kept going, trickling on and on. When she had nothing more to give, they exploded. Altair’s cock swelled. With violent throbs,
he filled her mouth. His seed trickled down her cheek. Jhor’s deafening roar shook the table. He grabbed her fleshy globes. Hot cum spurted into her ass. Garret withdrew at the very last second. He deftly plundered her empty pussy with thrusting fingers. His hard cock pulsed, spilling creamy juice over on her stomach.

  They remained as they were for a long, long time. Each petted or caressed her, calming the storm they created, then been overpowered by. Altair rained lazy kisses over her hair and face. Garret muttered gentle compliments that made Willow blush.

  “Ye’re perfect, sweetling. Relax. We’ll see tae ye now.”

  The scent of soap grew strong. A soothing hot sponge bathed her. She watched them with drowsy wonder. They washed her with the same keen intensity, worshipping her body as though it were yet another step in their lovemaking. She’d been aroused, used. Now she was being pampered. The novel experience was too wonderful to depart. But fatigue and sleep proved the more triumphant. They stole over her and lulled her into a dreamless abyss.

  Chapter 4

  The hours turned into days. Willow’s nights weren’t lonely for her lovers’ prowess never waned. The days, when she didn’t sleep were spent productively beautifying the castle and its impressive gardens. The staff readily accepted her dictates and now longer scampered to their van like cockroaches fleeing the light. In truth they seemed to remain later and later, much to Altair’s apparent disapproval.

  Willow laughed at his disgruntled features. “Scowl any harder and they won’t return in the morning.”

  “Struth? Tis worth a try. Nay.” He sighed, aggrieved. “Tis isnae working. Ye had the whole day tae prattle. Ye services are needed below stairs.”

  “Mayhap we should change form. They willnae tarry then.”

 

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