by Maia Dylan
“Damn, Parris,” Rhys moaned from behind her, and she felt his fingers flex against her shoulder. “I can’t tell you how fucking good your ass feels. I can feel every quiver, every shiver you experience.”
His strokes became jerky, and she knew he was close to losing control. Jase had braced his feet against the edge of the mattress and was able to get just enough leverage to pound up into her, and she could feel him swelling within her. She knew he was only a few moments from giving into the pleasure that hovered over the three of them as well. Then her awareness of her surroundings shattered with an explosive orgasm the strength of which she had never felt before.
As if from a distance, she heard both her mates roar her name, and then the mattress lurched as both of them leaned into her and bit deep into the flesh between her shoulder and neck, each of them striking directly over the place they had claimed her before. This time, their bite threw her into another orgasm, and as unlikely and crazy as it had seemed just moments before, it was larger than the first. Her brain and body seemed to short out at the same time, and she slumped against Jase.
She struggled to draw enough air into her lungs and lay there completely boneless for what could have been hours, or minutes, she didn’t know. She recognized the feeling of her men carrying her into the bathroom and knew that it was Jase who carried her into the heated water of a luxurious bath, but it was still a few minutes before she could raise her head and contemplate opening her eyes.
With a deep sigh, she looked around her and saw that her men had lit the bathroom with a few sweet-smelling candles and were both staring at her with sated eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of smugness there, too.
“Hey,” she said in a raspy voice. Her throat told her that she must have screamed at some point during the most explosive sexual experience of her life, but she had no recollection of actually doing it.
“Hey yourself, sweetness,” Jase spoke from beside her. He held her nestled against his side, with her head on his arm. Rhys was on her other side but was slightly forward, stroking her legs beneath the hot water.
“How are you feeling, darlin’?” Rhys murmured.
Parris stretched slightly, grinning seductively as the move drew both men’s eyes to her breasts as they emerged from the water. “Hmmm, better than I ever have and extremely well claimed.”
They laughed softly, and Jase leaned in to press a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Yeah well, that seems only fair as Rhys and I feel just the same damn way.”
Parris frowned slightly as she thought about that a little. “Can I actually claim you, as in bite you both and put my mark on you?” Almost as if she had asked if she could walk around the house naked from now on, she saw arousal and desire flare in both their eyes. “I am guessing that’s something you’d like, huh?”
“Hell, yes that’s something we’d like.” Jase groaned, placed his mouth against the mark he had left on her shoulder, and bit it gently, making her moan.
“Yeah, darlin’,” Rhys added in a voice heavily mixed with desire. “That is not only something that we would like. It is also something the two of us would be honored to wear. To know that you would claim us, for everyone to see? That’s just so much more than we ever thought to have with our mate.”
Parris grinned as she looked up at her handsome mates. “I figure it’s a win–win kinda situation. I get to mark you like you’ve marked me, and if you feel the same way I did at that moment, it will rock your world! Then, once the marks are there for everyone to see every woman in this town will know that you belong to me.” That had her pausing for a moment. “Is that why you guys are so obsessed with the bite marks on my neck? Because it tells others that I belong to you?” She tried to put a haughty note in her tone, but she was too damn happy to pull it off.
Rhys winked at her and pressed a kiss to her nose. “Yep, pretty much.”
Jase chuckled as he pressed one last kiss against his mating mark and pulled back to look her in the eye as well. “That’s the trouble with you, Parris, my love. You are just too damn smart for your own good.”
Parris smiled slyly as she reached beneath the water and wrapped her hands around each of their suddenly hard cocks, making them moan and roll their hips to drive themselves into her grip. “I’m sitting here between two of the hottest wolf shifters in the world, wearing their claiming bites proudly, and about the claim them as mine for the world to see, so yeah, I would have to agree with you.”
She had been given the gift of unconditional love, and despite never thinking she would ever be worthy of such a gift, she was going to hold onto it for the rest of her life. And she was never going to let go.
Epilogue
Pain, sharp and unforgiving, made her head pound. Jesus, what she wouldn’t give for a Tylenol or a bullet, one or the other. The darkness was still there, all encompassing and surrounding her in a tomb of silence with nothing but the ever-present pain to keep her company.
A voice broke through the dark. “Bring…around.”
She shivered. She knew that voice. The fear brought with it robbed her of breath for a moment before her heart began to pound furiously. Why the hell couldn’t she put a face and a name to that voice? Surely if the sound of his voice inspired such a visceral response, she would be able to name and picture the man it belonged to.
A sharp sting on the inside of her right elbow had her flinching slightly, the cool feel of the medication moving swiftly up her arm and into her system a familiar one. Disorientation struck as her body flooded with adrenaline, and she was suddenly wide awake, blinking her eyes rapidly against the pain the light in the room caused. She was gulping in great gasps of air, fighting against the constraints that held her down on a…hospital bed?
Fuck, had she been in an accident? Desperately, she tried to remember the events that led up to her being here. But there was nothing. Nothing before the pain and the darkness. Her fear began to build to epic proportions as tears began to gather in her eyes.
“Wh-where am I?” She winced at the gravelly sound of her voice before she froze with a frown. She did not recognize her own voice. Her mind began to whirl as she tried to process what that could mean, and the answer came to her in a terrifying moment of clarity. She had no idea who she was.
“You’re in a facility that deals with people with a condition such as yours.”
The person speaking, someone different from the one that had inspired her fear in the first place, was on her left. Turning her head, she locked her gaze on the older male doctor who stood beside her. He must have been in his late fifties. His hair, what was left of it, was gray and swept over the top of his head in that style that men insisted on despite it fooling no one into believing that he wasn’t already bald on top.
“We have you restrained for the moment as we didn’t want you to hurt yourself anymore than you already have.”
She looked down over her body and saw bandages covering much of her lower arms as well as a cast on her left leg. “What the hell happened to me?
The doctor smiled in a manner that he no doubt thought was reassuring. “You were brought back to Parklands three days ago. You were found in a motel room three counties over, lying in a pool of your own blood.”
The doctor’s eyes flicked to someone who was standing on the left side of her bed, but she refused to look in that direction. The doctor nodded slightly then returned his gaze to her.
“You have wounds consistent with a suicide attempt on both your wrists. We believe that your broken leg and what looks like two bite marks on either side of your neck were wounds inflicted in the altercation with the man who was also found in that room.”
“What man?” She whispered.
The man on her left moved closer to the bed, and she had to fight to hold in the scream she could feel building within her. “The man has been identified as Grant Snow.”
His voice was slightly accented, but she couldn’t place it all. Steeling herself against her fear, she tu
rned to face the man. Her pulse skittered wildly when she met the man’s eyes. They were a startling blue that stood out starkly from the olive skin of his face. His cheekbones were high and sharp, and he wore a suit that screamed money, power, and success. “His condition was a lot worse than yours. He, unfortunately, died from his wounds.”
She felt a pang of loss that surprised her. Did she know this man? “How did he die?”
The man’s eyes seemed to narrow and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a look that could only be described as pride flickered through them. “Why, you killed him, my dear.”
She wanted to scream her denial to the room. That did not sound right. She would never kill someone…would she? Despite the debilitating pain it caused, she searched her anything that would tell her about who she was, who Grant Snow was to her, and if she really was the one that ended his life. “Why? Why would I do that? Who the hell am I?”
“Your name is Melissa Christianson, and you are my daughter.”
“Your…daughter?”
“Yes, Melissa.”
Her father stepped forward and placed his hand on her arm, and she had to fight the urge to scream at him not to touch her.
“You are my only daughter, and now that I finally have you back with me, I am never letting you go again.”
She turned to look up at the ceiling, trying to reconcile all that she was being told. Melissa. Her name was Melissa. And this man that made her stomach tighten in knots of apprehension and fear was her father. Somehow that made sense to her, but there was also a feeling within her that there was something very, very wrong here at the same time.
“We are only at day one of your treatment and recovery,” the doctor said, but Melissa refused to turn her head in his direction. She simply remained staring at the ceiling. “Perhaps it would be wise to simply let you sleep for now, and we can talk more about this in the coming days. As your father has quite rightly pointed out, you are back safe with us, and we can give you the help and support that you need.”
Melissa felt another flush of cold sweep up her right arm, and she knew that she had been given another shot of medication. From the sudden heaviness that invaded her system, she figured it was a fast-acting sedative, designed to knock her out completely. Anxious to not have to think about everything she had been told, she let the medication take her. Her last thoughts were ones of sadness and loss surrounding a man she couldn’t remember. Grant Snow was dead, and that made her feel cold and alone.
Just as she was dragged beneath the veil of unconsciousness, she thought she heard voices. Two of them, distant and filled with pain. They both seemed to roar the same word, and at the sound of it, her heart pulsed with an emotion she couldn’t name.
“Mate!”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Maia Dylan lives, loves, and works in beautiful New Zealand. She married her best friend, and they have two adorable, but stubborn children who obviously take after their father.
Maia’s career has featured a lot of travel, and she has filled her time at airports and in the air with books, books, and more books. Her love of erotic paranormal romance has seen her amass a huge library. She has been an avid reader and lover of ménage romances since she read her first book in this genre about three years ago.
In January of 2015, Maia submitted her first ever manuscript to Siren Publishing. She wasn’t at all confident that it would be accepted, and in fact, she was expecting a nicely worded email with a resounding no! Much to her surprise, less than two weeks later, she had an acceptance and a signed contract in hand, and since then, she hasn’t looked back.
Outside of writing, Maia loves to eat, so she loves to cook! Her herb garden is legendary, but she still has issues getting tomatoes to grow. She’s been a performer for years and has even sung on international stages. She would love to own a classic Ford Mustang one day and of course have the opportunity to race it on a race track without fear of a speeding ticket.
Although ultimately her dream is to be able to write full-time on a sandy beach with a Mai Tai in hand, she is quite happy to fit her writing in when she can. As long as someone reads her books, gets a laugh, and maybe comes to love her characters as much as she does, then she feels that she is living her dream no matter what!
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
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