Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (8 page)

Her knees clamped around his waist, holding tight as she grasped his hair in both hands, demanding a proper kiss after all the teasing. Gods above, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get close enough. Koba’s tongue stroked inside her mouth in a rhythm that promised sinful things to come, and Moira willingly surrendered, eager in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Maybe it was too fast, too soon, but who cared? Her entire life, she’d lived by a strict code, keeping to a rigid plan so as not to endanger those around her. It was draining, and for once, she wanted to be reckless, spontaneous, and forget all of her responsibilities for just a few moments.

The beast that lurked deep within battered against her, recognizing Brock and Koba as her mates and demanding she seal the unbreakable bond between them. It was written in the stars, fated from birth, and the one thing she couldn’t control.

She was theirs and they were hers. What was the worst that could happen?

Moira went reluctantly when Koba pried her from his chest and lowered her to the ground. Instead of the packed dirt of the barn floor, however, her feet landed on a black sleeping bag, unzipped and spread open. One of Brock’s team members was not going to be happy.

Brock leaned back against one of the floor-to-ceiling posts with his legs spread wide and his enormous cock in hand. The muscles in his arms, chest, and abs rippled beneath his sun-bronzed skin as he stroked the turgid length in slow, controlled glides from base to crown.

Sitting up a little straighter, he held his hand out in offering. Once she placed their palms together, Brock grabbed her wrist and tugged her into his lap. Moira’s back pressed against his dewy chest, and her head fell back to his shoulder as Brock settled against the post once again.

“Look up, Mo.” He spread her legs, placing them on the outside of his thighs as he waited for her compliance. “See that rope?”

A frayed length of rope hung from a nail above their heads. “Yes.”

“Reach up and take it.”

Her heart thundered wildly against her sternum as she lifted her arms above her head and wrapped her fingers around the rope where it looped at the end.

“Now don’t let go.” Brock bent his knees slightly, spreading her thighs wider and locking her in place.

It was easier said than done when his hands groped her breasts, kneading the flesh and tugging at her sensitive nipples. Moist lips journeyed along the curve of her throat, ending at the shallow indention behind her ear. Abandoning her hard and swollen nipples, Brock gripped the inside of her left thigh with one hand and dipped between the parted folds of her soaking pussy with the other.

“Ah, fuck, baby.” His breathing accelerated, and his cock flexed, rising up to brush against the crease of her ass.

Two fingers stroked her from perineum to clit until they were coated in her slick juices. Each brush over her throbbing clitoris made her body jerk and her head spin as she struggled to draw in air to her aching lungs.

“Watch,” Brock murmured in her ear before nipping at the lobe.

Like a predator stalking his prey, Koba crawled toward them, his eyes full of heat and passion as he watched Brock press his fingers over her clit and rub in tight, fast circles that nearly sent her careening over the edge. Her orgasm raced toward her, speeding like a runaway locomotive, and Moira was helpless to stop it.

Just before she could take the leap, though, Brock’s hands vanished from between her legs, only to reappear once more at her breasts. Groaning in a combination of need and frustration, she grasped the rope in a white-knuckled grip and arched her back, rubbing against her mate like a cat in heat.

Firm lips wrapped around her clit and sucked, causing her to cry out and shudder violently. Koba didn’t stop there, though. His tongue darted out, flicking against the hard nub until she didn’t think her pulse would ever return to normal. Brock continued to touch and grope every inch of flesh he could reach while Koba moaned and lapped at her dripping cunt, his long, silky hair tickling the insides of her thighs.

Forcing her eyelids open, she peered down at Koba just in time to see him wrap his glistening lips around the tip of Brock’s dick where it jutted out beneath her body. A tidal wave of indescribable ecstasy slammed into her at the sight, and a long, strangled moan bubbled up through her parted lips.

Then Koba’s talented mouth was on her again, sucking at her pink folds like a starving man. When Brock insinuated a hand between their thighs so he could push two fingers into her aching pussy, it was too much for her to fight. Her inner walls gripped his digits like a vise as her climax slammed into her, rocking her body and tilting the world on its axis.

Koba nibbled along the inside of her thigh, sucking the flesh into his mouth and marking it. “Are you ready for more, kitten?”

In answer, Moira released the rope with one hand, grabbed the back of his head, and forced it back between her splayed thighs. Brock chuckled quietly, placing a light kiss on the side of her neck. “That’s my girl.”

His thick fingers pumped into her opening and pulled out to skim along her crease and circle the fluttering muscles of her back entrance. Over and over, he used her own juices to slick her back door, making certain of an easy, slippery glide before pushing in slowly with one finger.

“Breathe, baby. Just relax and breathe,” Brock coaxed as he sawed in and out of her hole, stretching her gently.

With Koba’s mouth alternating between her nipples and his fingers rubbing relentlessly at her swollen clitoris, Moira was so swamped in pleasure that she barely felt the burn, though. A second finger was added, and after a few moments, a third. The pressure was intense, but not unbearably so, especially when Koba changed tactics, slipping two fingers into her eager cunt.

“Please!” she begged in a voice she was sure had never escaped her lips before.

The short clicking sound drew her attention, and her eyes snapped open to investigate. Where Koba had found the small bottle of clear lube, she didn’t know, but she was very interested to see what he would do with it. Pouring a generous amount into his palm, he tossed the plastic tube aside and reached beneath her to coat Brock’s rock-hard dick.

Brock reclined a bit more and lifted her from his lap by her hips. He didn’t let her go far, though. “Deep breath, Mo. Just tell me if I need to stop.”

Moira nodded firmly, wanting to feel both of her men inside her more than she wanted her next labored breath. When the spongy crown nudged against her back entrance, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing every muscle in her body to relax.

Inch by torturous inch, Brock lowered her over his impressive length until her ass cheeks nestled firmly against his groin. “Fuck, I’m not going to last.” He held her snuggly against his chest, groaning raggedly against the back of her head.

Knowing she’d elicited such a response from her mate made her smile, but she really needed him to move. Moira teetered on the edge of another mind-numbing orgasm, needing only a slight push to send her tumbling over the edge and into bliss.

Fitting himself between her thighs, Koba held his own erect shaft poised at her gleaming pussy and watched her carefully. “I won’t take what you aren’t willing to give, Moira.”

“You’re mine, Koba, mine and Brock’s, just like we belong to you. This is right.” She felt the truth of it wrap around her heart and burrow into her soul.

Koba palmed the side of her neck, his other hand gripping Brock’s lean waist, and surged forward, filling her depths with his thick length. Moira moaned in wanton delight, wanting to be nowhere else on earth than right where she was, sandwiched between her hard-bodied mates.

It took a couple of starts and stops, but eventually the two men found a rhythm, pounding into her body with each forceful snap of their hips. Moira clung to Koba, panting against the side of his neck as she clawed at his back. If he minded, he didn’t show it. If anything, it seemed to spur him on as he drove deeper into her convulsing pussy.

Brock grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back on her shoulders as he thrust up into her ass and smacked the side of her thigh. “Who do you belong to, Moira?”

“Say it,” Koba demanded when she didn’t respond. “Tell me who you belong to, kitten.”

Moira couldn’t speak, though. Two shadowy figures had emerged just beyond the barn door, watching them in the waning light. She couldn’t see them clearly, but she felt sure one of them was her beta, Rip.

Her brain screamed that she should be mortified at being watched, but her body erupted into a firestorm of heightened arousal. It was so naughty, so utterly taboo, and her belly clenched as her second release took her captive. “You, both of you,” she whispered before crying out to the rafters.

“Mine,” Brock growled, pushing up and sinking sharp canines into her shoulder.

“Ours,” Koba amended right before his eyes shifted to their lupine equivalent, and his own fangs pierced the side of her neck.

There was no pain, no discomfort, only an erotic pleasure so unimaginable that Moira gasped and shuddered through yet another orgasm. Power flowed through her, the long-dormant beast gnashing its teeth and screaming in victory.

Pointed fangs burst through her gums, the room came into sharper focus, and scents she’d never smelled before assaulted her. Acting on instinct, she bit into the salty flesh on Koba’s shoulder, groaning at the sweet taste of his blood.

Satisfied that her mark would last for all to see, she extracted her canines and whipped her head around, striking at Brock’s neck and claiming him as well. Her mates growled and groaned, bucking against her in jerky movements until fiery wetness filled her depths to overflowing.

“That’s my bedroll, you asshole!” Moira recognized the voice of Casey Marsh. He didn’t sound angry—maybe a little breathless and tortured, but definitely not angry.

The other man spun on his heels and stomped out of the barn, driving his fist into the wood of the door as he went, confirming Moira’s suspicion that the figure was Rip. “Oh, god,” she moaned miserably.

“Stop,” Brock chastised. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know.” That wasn’t the problem at all. “An unstable, pissed-off wolf is the last thing we need right now, though.”

“He’ll get over it,” Koba said without a hint of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Strange. Different.” Unmitigated power crawled over her skin and sparked inside her body. “Amazing,” she added with an uncharacteristic giggle.

“Dude!” Casey called. “I don’t want to see your ass, Koba!”

“Then stop looking!”

“It’s right there, though. How am I supposed to not look?” He paused for a moment and pointed to a space just to the left of their trio. “Is that my lube?”

“Get out!” Brock barked.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Koba asked, ignoring everyone else. He stared her up and down for a long time before speaking again. “You’re not a lycan.”

Shit!
“I, uh, I meant to tell you. I was going to tell you. I…”

“Easy.” He dipped his head and brushed their lips together. “Just tell me now.”

Taking a deep breath and girding her proverbial loins, Moira held tightly to Brock’s hand for support as she looked up into Koba’s eyes and prayed her confession wouldn’t blow up in her face. She tried several times, but she couldn’t get the words out. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t she just say it?

“Moira, just tell me.”

“It’s okay, Mo,” Brock said reassuringly. “Just say it.”

Swallowing loudly, Moira tried once more, and though her voice came out small and weak, she finally managed to say the words. “I’m a demon.”

Koba had taken the news in stride, just as Brock had known he would, but they hadn’t really discussed it, either. After Moira’s announcement about her demon parentage, Koba had simply nodded, kissed her chastely, and told her that it didn’t matter.

Forty-eight hours later, they still hadn’t talked about it. Actually, they seemed to be going out of their way to not talk about it. He and Moira had been together just shy of a year before he’d been driven out of town, and it had been a test in strength to resist claiming the golden-haired beauty.

Moira had trusted him with her secret fairly early on in their relationship, and it hadn’t made him love or want her any less. She’d been completely against taking that last step and binding them forever, though.

Much like lycan females, demon females were little more than human until claimed by their mates. Before being claimed, a demoness was stronger and faster than a regular man, healed faster than humans, but had no other supernatural abilities. Brock didn’t know why that was, but it had been that way for as long as he could remember.

“Do I smell different?” Moira tucked her long legs under her as she curled into the corner of the sofa. “I think I smell different.”

“Yeah, you do.” It wasn’t unpleasant, though. “It’s kind of like a campfire without the smoke.” He didn’t know how else to explain it, but that was pretty close.

“Is that bad?” Moira pressed her nose to the top of her shoulder and sniffed. “I can’t smell it.”

Brock laughed and shook his head as he moved to sit on the cushion beside her. “No, baby, it’s not bad.” Taking her hand in both of his own, he squeezed gently, coaxing her to lean against him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m old.”

“You aren’t old.” Naturally, Moira would pick this moment to act like a total girl. “Although, I think I see a gray hair.” He plucked at her hair playfully and grunted when he caught an elbow to the ribs for his efforts.

“I do not have gray hair! Take it back.”

“And you’re kind of wrinkly.”

“Brock Jacob Lancaster, you take it back!”

“Moira Diane Gilson,” he mimicked. “Stop acting like a girl.”

“I don’t know if you noticed this, but I happen to be
a girl
.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re cool.” She wasn’t at all like most of the girls he’d met over the years. Moira cared very little about her hair, makeup, shopping, or what she ate. It was just a few of the things he adored about her.