Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series (13 page)

“God, yes.” She wanted this, wanted them.

~*~

Lark was here.

With him.

With his brothers.

In their arms and in their bed.

Her back pushed against his chest, her sweet ass grinding against his cock. She was beautiful. Brown hair tumbled about her shoulders, and arousal pinkened her face. When her lashes drifted down, hiding her eyes as she enjoyed their touch, that primal side of him wanted to demand she watch. He wanted to see the pleasure take her just as Dag did.

This was the fantasy.

This was the reality, and from the hot feminine cream he scented, she wanted this every bit as much as they did. Her pussy was swollen and needy, begging for their touch.

His fingers cupped her hips, holding her steady.

Dag’s hands braced on the bed, his sun-darkened skin a stark contrast against the white cotton. “I’m comin’ in now,
sha
.”

“Yes,” she demanded. His
chère
was all done waiting, and Rafer’s cock jerked at the feminine demand in her voice. “You do that. Now.”

Dag pushed slowly in, and Rafer held her, his face pressed against her throat where he could catch her low keen of gratification. She was so very hungry for this. For them. Her need fed the erotic hunger burning in him. He’d shocked her and he’d pushed her, but she wanted this too, and there was no ignoring the fierce satisfaction filling him. She’d taken all of them. Accepted them. And her acceptance was a precious gift.

His cock felt heavy and thick, his balls tight with an agonizing need. He’d never wanted anyone, anything, so much. He could feel her pressed against every inch of him, her body shuddering as Dag pushed carefully into the sweet, hot depths of her pussy.  Each brush of her skin against his further sensitized that already too-sensitive part of him. He’d never be close enough.

Dag’s face was all fierce control, the other male lost in the hot bliss of Lark’s pussy, his fingers clenched in the sheet beside her head as he moved carefully, deliberately.

Rafer wanted those feelings for Lark.

He could come like this, sliding his cock against the dark crease of her ass. Sinking just those scant inches into her flesh. But he wanted more. He wanted to lose himself deep inside her, mark her as she’d marked him.

Dag found a sensual rhythm, pulling out of her tight pussy before easing forward again. Driving her closer and closer to the feverish edge of pleasure and orgasm. And his
chère
, she liked it all right. She whimpered, her breathing ragged, as she pushed her back into the pillows and Rafer. His hands held her steady for Dag and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so damned beautiful.

“More,” she demanded throatily, her nails carving crescents into Dag’s shoulders as she hung on to his brother, rode his cock. Dag had her stretched, burning around that large cock working inside her. His brother was enjoying the delicious spasms of Lark’s pussy clenching, working towards her own release.

Rafer would give her more.

“How much more?” He whispered the words by her ear.  “Dag, he’s workin’ himself deep in your pussy, and Dre and Landry, they got their hands on your breasts. You know where that leaves for me.”

“Please,” she demanded, and there was nothing shy about her now. “You do it now, Rafer.”

Good enough for him. Jackson passed him the tube of lube, and Rafer got his hand between them, found the tiny puckered hole, and pushed. She gasped and pushed right back, so he added another finger beside the first, gently working the lube into her ass as he watched her face. She’d feel that bright pop of pleasure-pain as her other opening stretched, accommodating him. Knowing what he was preparing her for and what was coming next.

“You don’ like this,” he whispered against her ear, “you just tell me. This is about you feelin’ good. We can stop anytime,
chère
.”

Dag kissed her, rolling onto his side. His hips drove harder and faster, burying himself in her.

“God, yes,” she whispered. “Give me more, Rafer.”

That was all he needed. He tucked the head of his cock against her snug little opening.

~*~

She could feel Rafer. Dag. Too much and yet not enough, the exquisite sensations tearing through her had her aching for more of their touch. This was her fantasy come to life.

Rafer’s cock stretched her rear.

Dag held her steady, while the loving hands of the twins and Jackson braced her.

Dag paused, looking down at her face. “You okay,
sha
?”

Sweet concern filled her tough, hard Dag’s voice as he fought for control. She wanted to stop, they would. He held on to her like she was the center of his universe.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All she could do was ride the searing waves of pleasure.

Rafer moved inside her; Dag pushed back. A fiery maelstrom of sensation tore at the sensitized nerve endings in her core. Both men were so large. She’d never imagined feeling so
taken
. Dominated.

She arched up into Dag’s hold, and a masculine groan tore from his throat. She was sensually aware of the power she wielded over these men. Of the give and take between them.

“You feel so good.” Dag muttered the words roughly against her throat and thrust harder, his hips driving into the cradle of her thighs. Deeper and faster. Determined. She held on to him and on to the twins, her breath soughing out of her in a needy moan. Each deep thrust pushed her back to meet Rafer’s erotic penetration. Filling her with heat and pressure. Glorious need.

“Come with us,
sha
,” Dag demanded. His hands gripped her hips and drew her up to meet his next thrust. Oh God, she’d had no idea she could feel so much.

Rafer and Dag moved inside her, working to pleasure her, and all she could do was hold on and ride the waves of sensation. The fierce edge came closer and closer, each deliberate stroke pushing her nearer until she came, convulsing around them, coming apart as their hands held her steady, anchoring her.

“Ours.” An exquisitely primal possession marked Rafer’s voice.

“Mine,” she returned fiercely.

Sleep came fast and hard. Dimly, she was aware of Rafer sliding out of her. Someone washed her tenderly, gently, and then she was tucked up in a pile of male bodies, someone’s hands stroking her hair and back as she drifted off.

The sun had barely cracked the horizon, but already the bayou air was warm, a lush weight against Lark’s bare skin. Her wolves were piled over and around her in a sleepy, sensual heap, tangled up together in a cozy cocoon of sheets and bodies. She stirred, and Dag’s head lifted, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pulled her down for a slow, heated kiss.

“Remember.” One big finger traced the outline of her mouth. “Whatever
you
want,
sha
. You don’ have to decide now. You take all the time you wan’.”

He dropped his head back onto the pillow and closed his eyes, but he wasn’t sleeping. He was giving her space. Time to get used to the delicious strangeness of this new relationship.

Luc and Rafer were already gone. The twins were sprawled on one side, with Jackson curled up against their legs. She’d need a larger bed.  Just remembering last night had a blush heating her face, even though no one was watching, but this felt right and she was okay. She and her wolves would explore their new relationship together. Stake their claims on each other.

Wrapping the sheet around herself, she got up and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly. She didn’t want to disturb her wolves. Although maybe they were playing possum like Dag. Hunters. Predators.
Protectors
. Not much got past them.

And they were still making sure she had what she needed.

Her bare feet hit the cool hardwood. The kitchen door opened at the far end of the hall, and Rafer padded towards her, gloriously naked except for a pair of black sweats. He held out a steaming cup of coffee to her, her white mug with bluebells absurdly feminine in his large hand. The coffee was good, but the kiss was better.

When he finally let go of her, his slow smile lit her up. She wanted this man close. “You always plan on waking me up this way?” she asked.

His fingers traced the sheet, dipping beneath the lacy edge. “I could do that.”

Her imagination took them straight back to that sleepy, tumbled bed. She could reach out, take his hand and lead him back there. Wake up the others and start last night all over again.

Unfortunately, she was out of time. This was the last morning the farm belonged to her. By tonight, there would be a new owner—one of the cash bidders the bank had made it plenty clear were waiting in the wings.

“We have to leave here.”

Sadness at the reality of losing the farm warred with unexpected contentment at being part of a
we
. She shot a glance towards the bedroom where the new rumble of masculine voices promised the others were waking up and getting ready to start the day. Her Pack. Warmth spread through her.

Rafer frowned. “Here?”

“This house. The farm.”

“Your home.” He set the cup to one side, then his fingers gently speared her hair. For a long moment, he rested his face against her skin, a reassuring weight against her neck. She breathed in and then out.  Losing the farm, starting over with the Pack—this would come out right even if she went with her Pack somewhere else.

“Our home.” She turned her face against his, inhaling. Rafer smelled wild and smoky, like the bayou he loved so much. “Or so I’d hoped.”

She’d wanted a place to belong and people to belong with. Somehow, unexpectedly, the bayou had given her that with the Breaux brothers. She’d gotten more than she’d hoped for, but she wouldn’t be starting that new life with them here.

He smiled. A guilty male smile.

“You don’ have to go anywhere.”

“I do. We do.”

He stroked a thumb along her jaw. “Is this about what happened last night?”

“Last night was special.” Head back, watching his face, she didn’t miss a flash of something dark in his eyes. He was no tame wolf, no matter how gently he treated her. He was and always would be wild at heart, and she loved that about him. “I want us to stay together. Wherever that is.”

“You’d wan’ me here?” he asked. “You have the room for this?”

“I’d need a bigger bed,” she acknowledged with a smile, “but, yes, Rafer. This is my home. I want you in it. I want your brothers with us. I’m Pack too now.”

A blinding smile lit up his face. God, he was beautiful. He held her heart in his big hands.

His teeth nipped her ear. “That’s good. You’re sure?”

“More than sure, but…” she paused, “…this place won’t be mine for much longer. The bank’s taking it, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  I have to let go.”

“There’s always the houseboat,” he said and then tightened his arms playfully around her when she mock-growled at him.

“That’s not a house,” she teased. “That’s a hunting camp. We’re going to be doing some serious redecorating.”

She hadn’t known her wolf man could look guilty. Or that the sheepish expression would be so endearing. “That’s not a problem,” he admitted. “I paid off the note on this place yesterday. You don’ have to leave. Not until or unless you wan’ to.” He pressed his fingers against her lips when she would have said something. “Let me do this for you. Not because you can’t handle things somehow, someway, on your own, but because you’ll trust me to do what needs doing for the both of us.” His fingers stroked down her arm. “This is your place. Your lair. You decide who goes, who stays.”

Instinct warred with desire. She’d stand on her own two feet. Always had. And now he tempted her with an impossible gift. “Are you going?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere unless you tell me
go
. But you be sure about what you want.” His heated, possessive look made it plenty clear what he wanted.

Mama Jolie’s words danced in her head.
You wan’ be real careful, sha. You got a decision to be making. Stay. Go. You’re choosin’ now.
” 

Mama Jolie had been right.

Lark was staying right here in the arms of her wolf.

~*~

Rafer didn’t want Lark taking him because she felt she had no choice—he wanted to be
chosen
. She’d picked him last night on the bayou, when Luc had pressed her, but that wasn’t the picking that mattered most. Last night she’d chosen with her body.

Today she was choosing with her heart.

“Did you choose me?” Those brown eyes watched him like she could see straight inside him.

“Hell, yeah.” He nipped her ear, the gesture rough-tender. “You bet I did.”

“Without the blue moon?” she gasped. She squirmed, trying playfully to get away, and his hands grasped her hips, holding her still for his erotic punishment. He’d never get enough of her.

“That moon was just a convenient excuse,” he growled.

“You did come out here before,” she agreed, not hiding the hunger in her eyes. A smile curved her lips, an invitation to play.

He loved her sexy games. “I bought you flowers.”

“The flowers were for me?”

There was no stopping the answering grin tugging at his mouth. “Sure they were. Even though you wouldn’t let me pay for them,
chère
.”

“You can pay me back in other ways.” Her throaty whisper promised a sensual retribution.

“You got it.” His arms braced her, his head lowering.

“I’m all yours,” he declared. “Blue moon or no blue moon, I love you.” His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his hard body where she wanted to be.

She was his heart. His soul. Without her, he was the animal and not the man. What he wanted from her was more than he’d wanted from any woman before. He wanted her words and her promises. He wanted her love.

He wouldn’t take.

But he would have to ask.

“You sure there’s a chance you could love me back?” he asked. She’d given him those words, but in the heat of passion. He wanted to hear those same words now, when they weren’t in bed.

Her arms tightened around him. “Chase me and find out,” she teased.

Ducking under his arm, she danced away from him. Her playful laughter set him on fire, and her heated glance had his wolf on the prowl. “I’m thinking loving you is going to be all too easy, Rafer Breaux. You come catch me again. See if you can remind me why hunting is so much fun.”

Still laughing, she darted outside, running towards the stand of cypress trees, delighting both the wolf and the man. He ran after her, but not too fast because he didn’t want to end their game. His feet hit the ground, the steady rhythm echoing the drumbeat in his heart. “I’ll always come for you,
chère
.”

She was theirs to hunt.

Theirs to love.