Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (20 page)

For the week leading up to the confrontation, they’d practiced having the hybrids shift into their demon forms, going under the assumption that Moira could draw them back to light with her powers as an omega. They’d worked with only Damon and Tate at first, surrounded by a battalion of guards. Since Ryah had already been successful in bringing Tate back once he’d unleashed his demon, they had her on standby as well.

None of it had been necessary. A demon omega was not the same as a lycan omega in several different ways. The main difference was that a demon omega was the most powerful of their species, ranking higher than even a lycan alpha on the proverbial totem pole. One word from Moira, and her brethren were utterly at her command.

When she released whatever freaky mojo that was near the river, disabling everyone with that zap of electricity, the need to control her fellow demons had been moot. Once they all stopped jerking and flopping around on the ground like fishes out of water, everyone had reverted back to their human skins without coaxing.

The lycans and vampires had been turned over to different packs and covens for punishment. Brock had been more merciful with the Shadow Walkers, however, since none of them had a choice in what they’d become. Those who wished to surrender and pledge loyalty to the Red Moon Pack had been welcomed to stay without persecution.

Unfortunately, out of the thirty-three only twelve had taken him up on his offer. The remaining Walkers had been transported to different packs up north under heavy guard. Brock doubted any of them had lived to see the sun rise the next morning.

The only thing left to do was repair the lycan-human relationship with the townspeople. With the removal of Xavier and the Shadow Walkers, the attacks on the livestock had stopped, but the ranchers were still up in arms over the entire thing.

Brock wasn’t overly concerned, however. The men weren’t actively searching out wolves or other predators with bows or shotguns. They were just trying to protect their lands, and he couldn’t fault them for that. It would take time, but without anything further happening on their properties, it would all blow over.

There was still one other thing bothering him. If Moira’s father had been in on the plot from the start, why hadn’t any of them known that a demon needed to be claimed before they came into their powers? Xavier was not only a demon, but royalty, and Brock couldn’t fathom that the man hadn’t known that about his own kind.

Maybe it was because he was a sadistic bastard and enjoyed watching people suffer. Perhaps he didn’t want to divulge too many secrets to his cohorts. Or maybe there was something even more sinister behind it. Brock didn’t think he’d ever find an answer to the mystery, and as long as Xavier kept his word and stayed far, far away, he guessed it really didn’t matter.

Somehow, he didn’t think they’d seen the last of Xavier Zasio, though.

“Did you go shopping? Did I remember to change the sheets? We have the crib all set up, right? Where are the toys we bought? Should we disinfect them?”

Brock chuckled and wrapped his arms around Moira’s waist, pulling her to him and silencing her with a kiss. “Relax, Mo. They won’t be here until tomorrow.”

He was beyond happy that Moira and Ryah had kept in contact since the woman’s departure. Hell, they were like a couple of teenage girls, jabbering away on the phone for hours on end. Moira finally had the sister she’d always wanted, and in less than twenty-four hours, she was going to meet her niece for the first time.

“Is Jasmine walking yet?” Koba asked as he jogged into the living room, looking very frazzled. “I picked up everything from the floor, and covered the outlets. There are locks on the cabinets and bumpers on the coffee table. Do you think I should get some of those covers for the doorknobs?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that.” Moira pushed out of Brock’s arms and twirled in a circle, obviously looking for anything else she might have missed in her baby proofing endeavors. “What about those baby locks for the toilet seats? Should we get some of those, too?”

They were adorable, and Brock’s heart swelled with love for his mates. “I think you both should take a break. You’re starting to make my head spin with all this baby talk.”

They’d all sat down and had a very serious discussion about their plans for the future. Since Moira was sterile, there was no chance of them conceiving children. So the question became if they wanted children enough to seek out other ways to become parents. In the end, however, they had all three decided that they just weren’t cut out for parenthood. Still, Brock was looking forward to being an uncle.

“You’re just jealous,” Moira said and stuck her tongue out at him. “You want to be the center of attention.”

“I’m not denying it.”

“Oh, is someone feeling a little neglected,” Koba teased him, but his fingers were already working the button on his jeans. “Do you need a little love?”

“Little.” Brock shrugged. “A lot. I’m not picky.”

“Mmm,” Moira purred as she pulled her top off over her head. “I think we can handle that.”

 

* * * *

 

There was a lot of movement, and Moira wasn’t a hundred percent sure how she’d ended up naked and bent over the back of the sofa. Her breast tingled, and her pussy throbbed, clenching greedily in anticipation. The nectar between her legs dripped down her thighs, allowing a slippery glide for Koba’s fingers as they plunged into her aching cunt, pumping hard and fast until she thought she’d lose her mind with the pleasure.

Digging her fingers into the upholstery, she bit her lip and groaned when Koba’s fingers disappeared and his much larger cock slammed into her slick entrance. His groin rubbed over her ass cheeks, his coarse hairs scratching at her skin, but he didn’t thrust.

Looking over her shoulder, she started to demand he fuck her, but one look at his face had her pressing her lips together firmly. The most mesmerizing look of pleasure-pain covered his features, and his chest rumbled with a low groan as his fingers dug into her hips. “Hung like a fucking horse,” he mumbled.

Just knowing Brock was buried deep inside Koba while Koba was inside her sent a spike of arousal straight to her belly, and her pussy convulsed around her lover’s hard length. Koba groaned again, and smacked her on the outside of her thigh. “Be still.”

She had no intentions of following that order. Using the sofa for leverage, she pushed up and back with her arms, fucking herself on his cock, making sure it rubbed against all the right places inside her. Her mates’ growls and grumbles spurred her on, and within seconds they found their rhythm, all moving together like one.

It wasn’t slow and tender, but it was just what she needed. Hard, fast, down, dirty, and spontaneous, she lived for moments like these. She craved the times when their love and lust for one another became too overwhelming, and they simply combusted from the heat and desire burning inside them.

Brock was always so proud of his control and stamina, but this time, he was the first to tumble over the edge with a loud roar of completion. Koba followed quickly on his heels, and for once, Moira was the last one standing. Her pride in her minor triumph was short lived, however, when Koba pushed two fingers into her drenched cunt alongside his cock, and found her pulsing clit with his other hand.

Two thrusts was all it took to send her careening out of control, bucking and screaming as her climax rolled her under a wave of unimaginable pleasure. Coming down from her high, she slumped over the sofa and panted for air, though she knew she wore a goofy, well-fucked smile on her face. “You better not have gotten cum on the carpet,” she warned.

“Uh, no promises,” Koba mumbled, easing out of her and caressing her upturned bottom with tender strokes. “There might even be a little on the back of the sofa.”

“I’ll get the cleaner,” Brock offered, sounding much too satisfied with himself. “You just stay right there.”

Considering she could barely feel her legs, it wasn’t exactly a hardship. Maybe it was because her brain was still floating somewhere above her body, but she saw the jizz-covered couch as a metaphor for life.

Sometimes they were fucked and things got messy. With a little help from the people she loved, though, everything would come out squeaky clean in the end. With that thought in mind, she rolled her head on her shoulders and smiled up at Koba. “Wanna scrub my back?”

“I have a better idea.” Koba snatched her up off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the front door.

Leaping off the porch, he knelt down in the grass and dropped her into a nearby puddle. The rain fell in sheets around them, cold against her overheated skin. Pushing her wet hair out of her face, she glared playfully and lunged for her mate, rolling him beneath her and straddling his hips. “You suck.”

“Only if you ask nicely.” Koba wiggled his eyebrows and tickled her ribs, sending her into unrestrained laughter.

“Why wasn’t I invited to the naked party?” Brock called, tackling her off of Koba. His arms formed iron bars around her, absorbing most of the impact so that she was barely even jostled. “You know these are my favorite kinds of parties.”

Like a couple of pups, they whooped and laughed, rolling around in the mud as the rain pelted against them. It was the most fun Moira could remember having in her entire life, and she looked forward to a thousand more days filled with moments like these.

Her life hadn’t been an easy one, but she was better because of it. If Koba and Brock were her rewards for a lifetime of loneliness, she’d suffer every one of those days again without complaint.

As the thunder rumbled overhead, Moira just smiled. Nothing could ruin her good mood, not even the rolling clouds overhead.
Bring the storm.
Whatever came her way, she’d be ready for it. “Yeah, bring the storm.”

 

 

THE END

 

WWW.GABRIELLEEVANS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Gabrielle Evans grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma. We are talking one red light that may or may not work depending on the day of the week. She married her high school sweetheart and the rest is pretty much history. They have two very active boys and one high-strung wiener dog that keeps her constantly on the go. For now, she parks her car in central Indiana, but who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Gabrielle believes in love at first sight, falling hard and fast, taking chances, and grabbing your happy-ever-after with both hands. Most importantly, she believes that a great cup of coffee can cure anything.

Also by Gabrielle Evans

 

Ménage Amour: Wicked River 1:
Keeper of the Light

 

 

For all other titles, please visit

http://www.bookstrand.com/gabrielle-evans

 

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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