Sanibel Heat -Werewolf Menage Page 23

  Arching her ass to meet Jayce’s cock, Tatum silently begged for mercy. Jayce, ever so attuned to his mate, drove his dense sex into her core. The warmth of the water, the added lubrication, helped her achieve a near painless entry. Now if he would move. Wait, he was supposed to take her ass. Bren positioned in front of her, as if he were ready to plunge into her pussy. She pulled her head away to question, but Bren – his beast- wasn’t in a talkative mood.

  Bren spread her nether lips away from Jayce’s cock. Not only did Jayce not pull out; he drove deeper. That’s when the thought hit her. Bren wrapped her legs around his waist, effectively lifting her onto his waiting dick. Problem was; Jayce wasn’t pulling out. Another fight, she tensed. Another fight was coming since neither werewolf was backing down. It didn’t happen, since Jayce stilled his body, and Bren started pushing into her opening.

  “Two there,” she gasped. She was scared and thrilled. It started to feel better. That meteor sized need that she had felt earlier, was beginning to look like a thing of the past. “Don't hurt me,” she hitched.

  “Made for this,” Jayce started to pull out as Bren seated fully inside her. They used the same rhythm as earlier, one in one nearly out. If the world stopped, she wouldn’t have cared. If this were, as she had feared earlier, the last night of her life - that would be okay. Since, she had the two men whom she loved and was connected to body and soul, as they fulfilled her unknown fantasies and satisfied her insane cravings. At that moment, life couldn’t get any better. Until they stopped, slid home, and started thrusting in unison. They made one giant shaft in and out of her swollen center. The climax was lightning fast, startling, and nearly unbearable, blinding. It was a sudden storm on a languid night.

  Her lovers tightened on her. Bone crushing, seed pumping; mind altering orgasms overwhelmed her body. Her vaginal walls, her cervix, her pelvis drank them in. Pulsation after pulsation of hot, liquid ejaculated into her sheath. She was spent. Gone. Her body was absorbing their seed, their power, and love. She released Bren’s neck and lay back onto Jayce’s chest. The beat of his heart calmed her. They were still inside, still hard, and she met Bren’s face under the vision of his wolf. They were unquestionably satisfied. Their look said it all. Bren curled the edges of his lips into a cocky, self-indulgent smile. She laughed and drifted away.

  Epilogue

  “So….” The morning light danced across Tatum’s well-loved body. “That was interesting,” she eyed her mates. “I‘m glad you didn‘t explain things beforehand. I didn‘t need to know what was coming.”

  “Coming,” Bren’s voice was raspy, “is an exceptionally poor choice of words right now. He clutched his erection with a white knuckled stance. She never saw him coming. He threw his hulking, magnificent body across the bedroom and landed squarely on top of her. With the agility only an animal could pull off; she remained unharmed. However, a crackle, groan, and loud snap led her to believe that the bed hadn’t survived. As it waved its white flag, the mattress met the floor.

  “Okay, so that was the bed I was birthed in, asshole,” Jayce closed the door behind him with a tray of food in hand. “You’re fixing it. I won’t have our pups being born in any other bed or on the fucking floor.”

  “Pups?” she squeaked as Bren rubbed her hip. The telltale sign of bruising littered her skin.

  “Settle down, hellcat,” he took a disgusted look at the splintered side rail. “You aren’t pregnant, yet.”

  “Why does that sound ominous?” Gooseflesh ensued.

  “You won’t literally birth pups. You must know that by now,” Jayce placed the tray on a nearby table and lifted her in his arms. “I love it when you’re naked.”

  “That appears to be my main wardrobe around here.”

  “Uh huh,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “Who’s complaining?”

  “Not me," Bren reached her other side and toyed with a sore nipple.

  “You need a bath,” he grinned.

  “You just want to play,” she laughed.

  Bren was elated to see that warm smile play at Tatum’s lips. She was happy. He had waited for a lifetime to see that look of satisfaction on her face. To think that he and Jayce had put it there, that was as good as it got.

  “You have a human wedding to plan,” he nipped her tiny ear.

  “It’s so weird how you say that,” she batted away the strawberry that Jayce was slipping past her lips. She was horny, not hungry. He knew that. He could smell it miles away.

  “What we did last night was our wedding ceremony. That’s the one that counts,” Bren continued. “This one will be for family and friends.”

  “How do you know I’m not pregnant?” She questioned Jayce.

  “You will become pregnant on the second full moon mating. It’s quite a production and quite different, as I’m an Alpha,” he drew his lips in a tight line. “We’ll discuss it then.”

  “You’re hiding something,” she pushed.

  “No, not hiding. No one hides around here.” That was the only hint that he was giving her. If she knew what she was going to have to do…well, they would avoid the subject, for now.

  “Where’s Renee? The last time I saw her was at the hospital with Bane,” her eyes narrowed.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Tatum had the stinking suspicion that her mates were up to something.

  “She’s under our protection. Wonderfully fine. Wonderfully safe. Wonderful in every way,” Bren reached under her backside to remind her about her arousal. The scent was driving him mad. The taste scraped his tongue in the most obscene way. To top it off, he could coerce her to a much-needed distraction. She didn’t need to worry about her sister. Renee was in capable hands.

  The hands of the Beta….

  Please, enjoy this excerpt from Sanibel Burn coming Valentines Week 2012.

  Sanibel Burn

  (Vampire Werewolf Ménage)

  Fanged Ménage Book Two

  Talyn Scott

  He might as well be on the moon. He was that far from her. No, he didn't love her, not yet. Yes, he couldn't leave her. No, he hadn't tasted her. Damned if he didn't want to. He wasn't human; yet, he was behaving with human decency or morality or something that he couldn't yet name. Not that humans were anything to emulate, they weren't. An innocent, a virgin, had subdued his demeanor. More than it seems, more than can be denied; he didn't want to scare her. Bane was the Beta of the North American Pack that scared the hell out of everyone. Him. The werewolf with the soil of hell under his claws hadn't marked what was his. She belonged to him and no one else, or so he hoped. He wanted to break the rules, wanted to keep her from the others; but no that wasn't happening. She would be exposed and hunted, just like any good little innocent that didn't know there were other worlds intertwining her perfect human existence.

  Dragging a black claw across the Spanish, clay tile, Bane prowled the roof of his mate. She was dreaming again. Dreaming of the hunt, he assumed. Bane wished that he could count the number of beasts pursuing her in her dreams, and then he would know. He had his unique ways. Entering dreams, that wasn't his forte. Without a doubt, he was a monster. In all forms, he was cold, calculating, bestial, ruthless, and sexually devastating. So, how was this whip of a girl going to compete with any of that?

  “You could always back off, then she wouldn't have to compete with your darkness,” his voice preceded his body.

  “You fucker, get off the damned roof,” Bane expelled a warning growl. In half transition, he had somewhat control over his werewolf. Somewhat. The beast didn’t want another male around what was his. Obviously, what shouldn't be around her was a leech.

  “We're not doing the whole 'You're a Beta; I'm a Vampire' thing again tonight, are we?”

  “We could make it our last night,” Bane bared his face to the moon, canines elongating. “Have you tapped her vein? I swear to you, truce, or no truce; I'll risk the wrath of your coven and stake your sorry ass.”

  “I coul
d ask you the same,” Dru stepped forward, studied his competition. Night after night, they had been meeting like this. Neither one of them ever backed down. Both could easily kill the other.

  “No I haven't tapped her,” Bane's teeth interrupted the quietness of the sleepy neighborhood, a strong snap that would break the neck of small prey or an annoying vampire. “I don't live off the blood of others.”

  “Of course you don't,” Dru lifted a broad shoulder and let it drop. “You just suck for sexual gratification, sorry that my appetite offends. Really, sorry that I drink to survive, not conquer.”

  Bane wasn't playing any longer. “If you aren't going to cooperate and be useful,” he threw a knowing glare at the leech. “Then go away. A fall from a roof may not kill you, but I'll enjoy it immensely.”

  “Cooperate?” Dru ignored the rest of Bane's useless mouth dribble.

  “You,” Bane slashed a claw in the dark air, “can get in her head and count the beasts. I'm sick of waiting for the moon to claim my right.”

  “I can get in her head,” Dru met the cold steel of his blue eyes. “But you, my friend, can get into her body without as much as a touch. Who truly has the advantage?”

  Bane tried to bring it back to casual. No point in letting the sucker know how desperate the beast was tonight or every other night since smelling Renee's arousal. “An agreement then,” he conceded. Took a deep breath and tried again, “I will enter a contract with you.”

  “Finally,” Dru rolled his tongue over his left fang, his favorite. “It's been done before,” he shook his head and reached out a palm.

  Reluctantly, Bane pushed his wolf down and righted himself to meet Dru, other to other. “To my mate, Renee Shirley,” he bared his canines.

  “To my bride, Renee Shirley,” Dru fang flashed.

  “To share forever,” Bane fought to tamp the ire of his animal.

  Dru found that amusing, “After we find the other.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bane fully transformed, leaped off the roof, and avoided a stupid act that would inevitably be caused by the beast.

  “Werewolves and their drama,” Dru rolled his eyes and watched Bane's wolf disappear into the night. “I have to share my bride with two, lucky me,” he glided off the roof and entered Renee's dwelling, if you could call it that. He hushed the barking canine. How he wished he didn't have to deal with canines. Now, he had to share the only bride given to him by nature with two werewolves. He wondered if the other was as much of a selfish asshole as Bane. Then, after stepping into the threshold of his bride's bedchamber, he didn't care. There laid the woman whom he loved. Yes, he loved her. It happened when a vamp found his bride, instantaneously. His stomach twisted in anticipation. Her pets left quietly. They knew better than to mess with him, and just how many were there?

  He shook his head, avoiding counting heartbeats, and brought his concentration back to the arch of her pale throat. Lying on the pillow, her pulse slow and languid called to him in a silent scream. Drink of me, and he would.

  His first taste of her, he salivated.

  It was a private moment that he would never share with a Were, a fellow mate or whatever they were going to call it. It was between him and his bride. He wasn't drinking for nutrition tonight, not filling his belly. He was drinking for pleasure in its purest form. He was drinking for solid communion with his beloved. After she awoke from her scattered dreams, the ones speaking of wolves chasing her through the wetlands, she would feel a slight sting in her vein. A warmness that would not be overshadowed by any other. It would be a heat of the flesh, a binding. A raw oneness that would meet them soul to soul, it was just one taste.

  Dru flicked his tongue over his parched lips. Not from hunger but from mouth-drying, blatant lust, he bent forward. Inhaling sharply, he fully scented her. His love, his bride, his sexual novitiate was warm and fragrant. Her blood called to him on levels that he was only beginning to understand. Brushing a raven lock of hair from Renee's throat, he nuzzled her jaw, slowly licked the line of her jugular, and penetrated her body. Buttery flesh, hot tang, wet passion dripped to the depths of his throat. No other taste, no one had been this delicious, this satisfying. He knew beyond a doubt that the only thing that could make it better; he took another swallow – couldn't help it, would be if his cock had penetrated her as well. That would come soon. Now, he would sate himself.

  Reaching his zipper, not relinquishing his oral hold, he pulled out his aching shaft. He touched the supersensitive skin of his over-tight sex. So enlarged, so engorged he was hardened to a ruthlessly impending orgasm. Near time, oh yes, he elongated a fingernail and raked it on the underside of his cock. It was a tear of his skin, a bite of pain, another lap at his bride, a streak of red and then was an explosion of seed. Lost, he was so lost to her. Lost and found forever, Dru shuddered and released his bite. Licking the wound closed, he knew. He would do anything that she asked, anything... except let her go.

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