Chapter Twenty-Two
‡
The next day, on the way to the car, Owen had told the little cat to find him. If he watched closely, maybe he could figure out why she was such an inept feline.
Lying on a comfortable branch, Owen licked a wayward patch of fur on his foreleg. Having the pretty panther searching for him gave him an odd sense of satisfaction.
There she was.
He had to suppress his purr. Although she was still tiny—not much bigger than a teenaged shifter—the time in Cold Creek had been good for her. Her fur had a sheen, and her flanks were no longer hollowed. Smooth padding covered her ribs, although she had a few more pounds to go. In all reality, she was far more than the “pretty panther” Gawain called her—she was beautiful.
She went past the place where he’d left the trail, halted, and retraced her steps. Finding his trail, she headed into the underbrush. Her paw almost landed on a shrew. Its angry squeak and skittering retreat made her freeze, consternation in every line of her body.
Owen had to smother his huff of amusement.
But—good girl—she hadn’t jumped a couple of feet into the air as she had the first few times. Instead, she sniffed and relaxed.
She continued on. Slowly. Really, far too slowly. When he and Gawain had played these games as cublings, they’d loped along, sniffing the air, ears swiveled to catch any sound. They hadn’t gone into stalk mode unless they found an active scent.
At this rate, she’d be searching for him for hours.
His tail impatiently flicked up and down as he realized her every step was planned out, as was each pause to sniff.
Planned? For fuck’s sake, she was in animal form. Animals didn’t plan. Admittedly, a shifter needed some control. The human side never disappeared—unless feral. Part of being an animal was letting instincts rule, allowing the magic to have its sway, and taking joy in the sheer physical nature of a beast.
Darcy, however, was all human and merely clothed in the body of a panther.
He saw the moment she caught his scent and again overruled her instincts. She didn’t crouch. She used her eyes instead of her other senses. Following his scent, she should have launched herself into the tree and jumped him. Or chased after him if he’d leaped away first.
But no, she pushed away those urges because she wanted to use her eyes. To see him before acting.
With an annoyed hiss, he sprang. In two bounds, he hit her and wrapped his forelegs around her shoulders so he could bite her ear in a reprimand. Then and only then, he trawsfurred.
After a moment, she did the same. As she lay, flattened by his weight, she glared at him.
She pleased his eyes.
Her hair was the blackest of blacks and made a lush waterfall over her high, pert breasts. Muscles flowed in her shoulders and arms. Whatever she’d done in that prison, it hadn’t been sitting around on her ass.
Grumbling under her breath, she squirmed out from under him, which he enjoyed more than he should have. Herne’s hooves, this wasn’t the time to give in to his attraction. It sure wasn’t appropriate to remember the last Gathering—taking her, mating with her, how she’d felt around him.
How she cried out as she gave in to her passion.
That thought reminded him of why he was angry. He rose to his feet, folded his arms over his chest, and scowled at her. “I’ve seen better hunting from thirteen-year-olds with only a day of being a shifter. You caught my scent. Why didn’t you attack?”
She jumped to her feet and scowled back “I had to find you first.”
“No. Your nose told you where I was, and your body wanted to spring. I saw your muscles tense. But you didn’t.”
“I… I wanted to see you. To make sure.” She looked confused. Adorably confused.
He sighed and motioned her toward a log. “By Herne’s holy antlers, Gawain should explain this. I’m not used to having to…”
“Talk rather than kill?” Anger gone, she grinned at him.
“Impertinent cub.”
“I’m no cub.”
His hand reached out of its own accord, and he traced his fingertips over her shoulder, heading toward the valley between her breasts. Her skin was warm and soft with a mesmerizing silkiness. Her scent was a light musk, holding a whiff of pine from the trees.
As he breathed in, he caught the first hint of her arousal. She enjoyed his hand on her.
“No, he said huskily, “you’re no cub.” With an effort, he took a step back and dropped his arm.
Lesson. This was a lesson. Think, Treharn. Having lived with intellect-driven humans, she wouldn’t easily relax into being an animal. Daonain cubs grew up around shifters—Darcy hadn’t. “You need to let your animal instincts handle your body.”
“But, I thought… Don’t you kill Daonain who go feral and let the animal control them?”
He heard Gawain cross the meadow, but kept his eyes on Darcy. “With ferals, the human half is gone and only rage remains.”
When she paled, he knew she’d seen a feral in her past. “In animal form, if really needed, the human side can take charge. It’s…” He scowled, searching for an example. “When I learned to drive, an instructor sat beside me. I steered—did the driving—but if I screwed up, he could tell me to pull over, and he’d drive.”
“Oh.” Her brows puckered. “You’re saying I should let the animal drive and keep veto power.”
“Exactly.” Gawain sat down beside her. “You need to sink into the wildness and trust it. This is part of who you are now.”
She bit her lip. “I…don’t want to let go. I need to be in control.”
Owen snorted. “Sounds like our mother.” He regretted the words even before she glared at him.
“I am not your mother. I’m me, not any other female—any more than you are Gawain. I can tell each male is unique. Why can’t you see that females aren’t identical?”
He blinked. By the God, she’d delivered a verbal disembowelment—which was exactly what he’d asked her to do if he made an idiot of himself. “You’re right; thank you for reminding me.”
He couldn’t keep from smiling. “You’re definitely not like anyone I’ve met before.”
Her glare faded. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I enjoyed it,” Gawain said. “But, sweetling, can you tell us why you won’t let go?”
Her color grayed, and fear scented the air. “No.”
Owen frowned. The same scent of fear had clung to her last night after the nightmare. She didn’t frighten easily, this little female. Had something happened in the past when she lost control? Something that, even now, gave her nightmares? How could he help if he didn’t know what was wrong?
By the God, he couldn’t stand it when she was frightened. Needing to protect her—even from her own past—he moved closer and put an arm around her.
She gave him a surprised look, then leaned against him and put her head on his chest. Letting him give her comfort. Finest feeling in the world.
As her muscles relaxed, he nuzzled the top of her head and figured some kisses would put her right. He hadn’t had a kiss for hours, after all. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and kissed her, teasing her lips open, then delving deep.
She tensed for all of a moment before melting against him. When he tipped her back into the soft grass and flattened her with his weight, she made no protest. Her arms came around him.
At least she had no trouble losing control when mating. Perhaps because she had no bad memories to overcome.
Owen lifted his head to glance at his brother.
Despite the slight worried crinkle of his eyes, Gawain gave him an amused look. “My turn.”
Obligingly, Owen rolled to Darcy’s right and propped his head up on his hand.
On her left, Gawain stretched out and, before she could sit up, rolled on top of her. “Kiss me, sweetling,” he murmured.
She frowned and looked at Owen.
Ah. She’d been in human hands for too long. “Kiss him, Darcy. We both like your kisses.”
Her look of delight was endearing. And then ever so sweetly, she wiggled her right arm under Owen to stroke his back and keep them connected.
Curling her other arm around Gawain’s back, she gave him her lips.
Owen smiled. So sweet.
As Gawain kept her occupied, Owen deliberated. Acknowledging she had to give the animal control wouldn’t work if her past blocked her. She needed to face her fears to move past them.
Talking was the first step. After all, they were her mentors, the ones she trusted, but apparently, not enough.
Mating could break down barriers and increase trust.
Then mating it would be.
The detour for her lesson had brought them up a steep climb no human hikers could manage. This meadow was private. The grass was soft. The sun was high and warm against bare skin—and there were no shadows to frighten a little female.
Aye, this was the time to deal with nightmares. Lying on his side, he caught his brother’s attention with the subliminal hum that meant I have an idea.
Gawain lifted his head and waited for Owen to indicate what the plan was.
Darcy was on her back. Owen slid closer until he pressed against Darcy from the side. A glance ensured that Gawain would do the same. Owen set his free hand on her breast, cupping it, kneading it, enjoying the softness that fit in his palm so nicely. It made an excellent way to keep her in place.
Gawain’s eyebrows rose, then he simply followed suit.
What were they doing? Flat on her back, Darcy looked up at the two males who were studying her carefully. Their warm, hard bodies pushed against her. Owen had a hand on her breast, holding her firmly, and obviously enjoying himself.
Gawain’s hand was broader. As his callused thumb rubbed over her nipple, her whole body tensed. Anticipation simmered deep in her core.
Two males. She could smell their interest, could feel their erect cocks pressing against her hips. But why were they watching her like that? “No more kisses?”
“Aye. In a bit.” Owen’s voice was deeper than normal. Huskier. His gaze never left hers as he stroked her breast until her toes curled. “It’s daytime, kitten. Warm and quiet and far from anything frightening.”
“Ah.” Gawain’s expression changed to one of comprehension. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. When she looked at him, his gaze was both stern and sympathetic. “Owen’s right. It’s time to tell us about your nightmare. What haunts your trail, sweetling?”
“No.” Instinctively, she tried to sit up, but…the hands holding her breasts simply pressed down. She’d put her arms around them earlier, and now her elbows were pinned under their bodies.
Owen had the nerve to caress her again. “We’ll continue kissing after we talk.”
She glared. “I’m not in the mood, not anymore, and I’m not going to talk with you. Let me up.”
“Sweetling,” Gawain said softly. His eyes were the same clear blue as the vast sky behind him. “Didn’t you agree to tell us about your nightmare today?”
She had agreed. Her voice came out almost a whimper. “I don’t want to.”
Gawain nodded. “I know. But fears are best faced in the light of day—and with someone beside you.”
She had two concerned someones. The ice of fear was in her veins, but the sun was hot on her skin, and the males were unmoving guardians on each side. Talk, Darcy.
She wet her lips. “My nightmares are memories. Mainly one.” She stuck there.
“When did it happen?” Gawain asked. “In the last year?”
The question helped. “Way back. The adults had all died, and they brought us up out of the basement and cages. They were afraid they’d lose us all.”
The deadly growl from Owen shook her bones…and was the most heartening thing she’d ever heard.
“We did the yard work, cleaning, gardening, but weren’t allowed to talk to each other—to anyone, really—and couldn’t touch or be together.” Do the work. Be silent.
“By the God.” Owen looked at Gawain. “Can you imagine what that kind of isolation would do to wolves?”
Gawain’s jaw clenched. “Did you talk?”
“Not me… Margery did. She was whispering to Barbara and got caught. The guard—they all carry canes—he started hitting her.”
The whacking sound against flesh, Margery’s cry of pain. Her begging. I’m sorry. Dropping to her knees.
As Darcy went silent, sliding down into the nightmare, Owen cupped her cheek and turned her head. His eyes were a stern, compelling green.
“Talk to us,” Owen said. “Get it out, little cat.”
She pulled herself back to reality. “Another guard came and joined him. Having fun, hitting her over and over. She was sobbing, curled up in a ball, and they wouldn’t stop.” Darcy spoke around the knot in her throat, blinking her burning eyes. “I…I couldn’t take it. I knew better, and I still tried to get them to stop.”
“Stop it, just stop!” Knocking one guard away. Standing between them and Margery. So angry. Hardly feeling the blows of the canes. “Leave her alone!”
“Of course, you tried to stop them.” Gawain wiped tears from her cheeks. “What did they do?”
Sickness curled in her belly, and she shook her head.
When she didn’t continue, Gawain’s voice held as much steely determination as Owen’s. “Give us the rest, Darcy.”
Her voice came out a whisper. “They beat me. Broke my arm. My ribs.” A crack. Horrendous pain. Blow after blow. “Then they kicked me to the ground and went back to Margery. With their fists. Their boots. One held my head up, made me watch. Said she was paying for my interference.”
“By the God,” Owen muttered.
Darcy swallowed. “They beat her until…until her arms and legs were broken, her ribs, her face. She stopped screaming, and they kept hitting her. I was begging and crying and…”
Snarling, Owen yanked her into his arms, and behind her, Gawain pressed closer, growling low and deep.
The sound of his anger shattered her barricades, and she started to cry. The ugly sobs surged from her depths, spilling out in painful sounds.
Eventually, she realized Owen’s embrace was crushing her ribs—and was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Gawain was stroking her hair in long slow strokes.
With a shuddering sigh, she laid her cheek on Owen’s wet chest. “I didn’t mean to…weep all over you.”
“Sounds like you had some stored up,” Gawain said. “Anything else in there?”
She pulled in a breath. “A couple of times after that, I acted before thinking, but at least I was the only one to get hurt. Eventually, I learned to restrain my reactions.”
“Control. I get it.” Owen kissed the top of her head. “Holding back won’t serve you well as a shifter. You’ll have to find a balance, cariad.”
Cariad. Gawain had called her that. And it was what Calum called Vicki. What did it mean?
“Time to wash your face and get a drink.” Gawain rose and pulled her to her feet. “I hear a stream over there.”
Wiping her face, she took a step. Her legs shook. All of her shook.
“Come.” Owen put an arm around her waist and held her steady as they followed Gawain to the trickling creek. The water was crystal clear with a bottom of rounded river stones.
Gawain stepped in and splashed his face and chest.
Holding onto Owen’s arm, Darcy put a toe in. The icy water bit her skin, and she yanked her foot back. “Are you crazy? It’s freezing.”
“Glacier water.” Owen grinned. “Go on. Be a brave kitten.”
She stiffened. “I’m not brave.”
“Yes, you are.” He studied her. “I’ve seen you fight”
The hellhound. “That was different.”
Gawain turned. “Different how?”
“There was only one of him and in Cold Creek. The Scythe…they terrify me.” She looked down, regretting her honesty, yet they needed to know how much of a coward she was. “When the Cosantir said the cahirs would rescue the females in Seattle—and that I didn’t have to go back—I…I almost cried with relief.”
Return to the prìosan. Just the thought formed a knot of fear in her chest.
“Easy, sweetling,” Gawain murmured.
“Being afraid doesn’t mean you’re not brave.” To her surprise, Owen leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Being brave means doing what you have to do in spite of the fear.”
She looked at him in surprise. The cahir didn’t despise her?
Jumping into the freezing stream, he melodramatically peered all around. “I don’t see any Scythe in here. Get in, tiny tinker.”
“You… You are so…” She glared at him, unable to believe he’d tease her about her fears. Yet the knot in her chest loosened.
“I am.” He grinned. “Get in.”
“Not in this lifetime. I’ll hold out for a hot shower when we get to the lodge.” Males really were insane, weren’t they?
Owen glanced at his brother. “Who could resist?”
She frowned. “Resist what?”
The two males bent down with cupped hands—and a wave of icy water drenched her. She shrieked. “You dumbasses. You stupid…” She couldn’t find words nasty enough.
“Excellent scream.” Gawain was grinning.
“Like a hawk. Very nice.” Owen eyed her as if he planned to yank her in.
She hastily backed up.
The male didn’t laugh often, but when he did, her heart actually danced. “We won’t splash you again. Promise.”
Gawain grinned and held out his cupped hands. “You need to drink, Darcy.”
They’d never lied to her…and she had screeched loud enough to wake the gnomes in the city. She advanced and sucked the water from Gawain’s hands. It was cold enough to make her teeth hurt.
The sun was already drying the water from her skin.
Jumping up onto the bank, Owen used his wet hands to stroke the last of the tears from her face. “There. All better.”
“Thanks.”
A grin warned her a second before he put an arm behind her back, lifted his other hand, and circled her nipple with a freezing cold finger.
The nub puckered into an aching peak. She tried to jerk away, and his arm curbed her.
“Look how it jumps to attention,” he told Gawain. He teased the nipple to a long peak.
“You’re impossible.” She glared up at him.
Bending, Owen took her mouth, pulling her against his rock-solid body.
Her insides went into a meltdown.
He lifted his head an inch and whispered against her lips, “Now we can go back to kissing.” Slowly, holding her gaze with his green eyes, he lifted her wrist to his face, inhaled…and smiled.
There was no denying the scent of her arousal. Against her pelvis, his cock was thickening, lengthening. And oh, she remembered how he felt. Her core dampened, preparing for his entry.
He turned her, and Gawain took her into his embrace. He lifted her chin and smiled into her eyes, watching her carefully as he lowered his head.
Her mouth opened to him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He followed Owen’s lead, sniffing her wrist, and satisfying himself she wanted them both.
“You could just ask,” she whispered.
He nuzzled her temple and whispered back, “Words can be misleading. Scents don’t lie.”
Moving in behind her, Owen sandwiched her between the males. As Gawain kissed her, she felt Owen playing with her breasts, teasing them, rolling the nipples.
Heat sprang to life within her. Between her legs, she was tingling, swelling, needing. She wiggled against the rigid cock in back, and made a sound. An urgent sound.
“Oh, not yet, little cat,” Owen murmured, kissing the curve between her shoulder and neck. His teeth nipped, and his lips soothed the tiny sting.
Gawain framed her face with his hands as he teased her lips and fenced with her tongue. Against her soft belly, his erection was hard and thick, a promise of more.
Both of them would take her.
Her hands closed on Gawain’s forearms. “I’m…I don’t know how to do this. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Cariad, don’t you know we’re worrying about the same thing?” He traced a line from her crinkled brow down her nose to tap her lips. “But there is no right or wrong here. We’re going to go slow…and simply enjoy what happens. Aye?”
A sigh escaped her. She could do that. “Aye.”
Before she could move, Owen scooped her up, holding her cradled against him like a cubling. She grabbed him around the neck and growled.
His grin flashed. “Choose a place, brawd?”
“Over to the left. It’s flat with good grass.”
“Perfect.” Effortlessly, Owen carried her there and laid her down on the lush, cool creekside grass. He knelt beside her on her left. Smiling into her eyes, he laced his fingers with hers, raised her arms, and pinned them over her head. “Here you go, brawd. Enjoy your treats.”
“What do—” Before she could finish her question, Owen took her mouth, his tongue plunging deep. He didn’t release her hands.
A second later, Gawain caressed her breasts. “These really are a treat.” He closed his mouth on her right nipple. His mouth was hot and wet, and he sucked lightly while fondling her other breast. When he rubbed his beard on the underside, the light scratching curled her toes.
Urgency wakened inside her, and the feelings were strange and almost overpowering. She tried to move, but Owen had her hands trapped.
He made a reprimanding grumbling sound and simply kept kissing her.
Gawain switched to her left breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue. He stroked down her waist, over a hip, between her legs.
Her center throbbed in response.
His finger slid between her folds, and she could feel how slick she was.
When her hips lifted and her legs opened to make room for his large hand, Gawain made an approving sound. He kissed her breasts and sat back. “You know, I’ve missed your taste.”
What?
Slowly, he kissed his way down the same path his hands had taken. Her stomach muscles quivered under his soft lips and teasing nibbles.
Owen pulled her arms down and set her hands on his shoulders. “Keep your hands here, kitten. I want to feel your claws.”
She stroked over his contoured iron-hard muscles with her fingertips. Why would he talk about claws? She’d never scratch him.
“Nice. Feels good.” He licked over her lips.
As he kissed her jaw, his beard scruff scraped her skin, rousing more sensations.
Ignoring his order about keeping her hands on his shoulders, she tangled her fingers in his long thick hair. “Are you—”
Gawain took her clit in his mouth, and the excruciating pleasure consumed her.
“Ooooooh.” Her back arched, and her hand fisted in Owen’s hair.
Laughing, Gawain licked over her folds. “That was even better than the scream.”
“Aye.” Chuckling, Owen pushed her breasts together and sucked one nipple, then the other. “Do some more.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Gawain bent his head, tracing his tongue in circles around her clit. When he stopped to flick right on top of her clit, she started melting into the ground beneath her.
He circled her entrance and then pushed a thick finger inside, stretching her, reminding her of that night when she’d been taken so many times.
Owen closed his lips around her nipple and sucked forcefully on the peak.
An electrifying sensation surged outward.
Before she recovered, Gawain began to suck in light pulls on her clit, and her entire core tightened with need. With urgency.
“Breathe, cariad,” Owen murmured.
Opening her eyes, she saw he’d lifted his head and was watching her. His hand on her breast sent small zings of pleasure through her with each caress.
She drew in air and lost it again when Gawain licked and flicked his tongue right on top of her clit. Her eyes closed as all of her muscles tensed. Her fingernails dug into Owen’s shoulders, and he laughed.
As the pressure in her core increased, every cell in her body quivered, waiting for more.
Gawain didn’t stop. His tongue circled her clit slowly, danced over the swollen top, circled, flicked.
A quaking started in her center.
“Now, brawd,” Owen murmured. She felt his fingers on her nipples, pulling and rolling them, and the sensation zinged downward, even as Gawain set his tongue over her clit and rubbed mercilessly.
Everything…everything within contracted into a ball, exploding outward in massive waves of pleasure. She felt Gawain’s hands on her hips as his tongue teased out more spasms of pleasure until even her fingers tingled with sensation.
“Oh my Gods,” she whispered.
She felt Owen’s hand against her cheek as he kissed her lightly and gave her a hug. Gawain lay down on the other side, and she loved the feeling of being between them, bathed in protection and…and affection.
They cared about her. She really was certain of that.
She turned to her right, lifting a shaking arm so she could stroke Gawain’s face. Touch his tan cheek, run her fingers through the soft short beard framing his strong jawline. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her and kissed her fingertips. “You are very welcome, sweetling. It was my pleasure.” She could hear his sincerity—he’d enjoyed himself.
She bit her lip. During the full moon, taking Owen in her mouth had been amazing, and he’d seemed to enjoy it. Would Gawain? “Can I do…? To you?” What was it called?
“Use your mouth on me?” Gawain’s smile grew. “Oh, aye, you certainly can. It’s one of the ways two males can share a female at the same time.”
Her eyes widened. Oh…my. At the Gathering, Owen had mentioned males shared in various ways, and she’d tried to imagine exactly how it all worked. “How, um, where does everything go and who does what and…?”
Owen laid his callused hand on her cheek and turned her to face him. A slight smile softened his hard face as he ran his thumb over her lips. “Darcy, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
His green eyes lightened, and his voice was gruff. “Thank you. Then, let me arrange everything—and we’ll all be happy, aye?”
He’d be in control, not her. She wouldn’t like letting him take over…would she? The memory of the full moon night made her rethink. When she’d mated Owen, there had been no question as to who was in charge. Did she want that again?
Oh, yes. As she met his steady, confident eyes, any thought of refusing melted right out of her. “Yes.”
He smiled slowly and met her lips with his. His scent filled her with each breath, and he purred as he nibbled on her lips.
When Gawain started playing with her breasts, she felt as if her body was slowly sinking into the grass.
Gawain teased his tongue around Darcy’s velvety nipple, enjoying the sound of his littermate’s purring. Finally, finally, they’d get to share Darcy—he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be right now.
With a sigh, Owen lifted his head and sat up. “On your back, brawd. This little cat has work to do.”
Gawain glanced at him and caught on. “Work is good for a soul.” He lay back in the grass, put an arm behind his head, and smiled at the perplexed look on Darcy’s face.
“Kneel between his legs, cariad.” Owen positioned her.
To Gawain’s delight, she was completely acquiescing to his littermate’s directions. Yes, she was perfect for them.
Owen took her hand and wrapped it around Gawain’s cock.
As her flush deepened, her fingers curled in a snug grip.
Gawain inhaled sharply. His cock leaped at the heat of her palm, at the feeling of her small fingers around him.
“There’s a good female. You did a bit of this at the Gathering, remember? Now, you can lick and suck, but no biting or teeth,” Owen told her. “The more you can take into your mouth and throat, the happier he’ll be, but don’t go farther than you’re comfortable with.”
“But, how exactly do I…?” Her worry was obvious. She was so sweet—a female who wanted to do everything perfectly when making someone else happy.
As deep into her need as she’d been for her first Gathering, he doubted if she remembered much of what she’d done.
Gawain reached down and covered her fingers on his cock. He moved her hand up and down, and rumbled in pleasure. “This is the movement, whether you’re using your hand, your tongue, or your lips. If I’m purring, I’m enjoying it.”
Relief filled her eyes, before she bit her lip. “But what if you’re not enjoying it? Or I hurt you? Or…”
Such a worrier. Gawain hesitated, unsure how to reassure her.
With an evil grin, Owen handed a handful of her hair to Gawain. “There. He has a leash to tug if he needs your attention.”
The concept would have annoyed some females. Darcy’s lips curved in a pleased smile. “Perfect. I can do this.” As she regarded him, heat kindled in her eyes.
Elation hummed in his veins at the knowledge that the sight of his body pleased her. To see her arousal as she looked at him was one of the finest compliments he’d ever received.
She stroked his cock, very tentatively. When he didn’t scream in agony, her grip firmed, and she pumped slightly more vigorously.
Simply having her hands—Darcy’s hands—on him at all thrilled him to the depths, but he managed to hold himself to a light purr.
She bounced in excitement, bent, and licked up his dick. “Mmm.” As her small hands played with the fuzz between his legs and around his balls, she inhaled and took him deeper. Her tongue teased his shaft as she clamped her lips around him.
He might combust from sheer overload.
Why didn’t she move?
Laughter in his voice, Owen reminded her, “Up and down.”
She grunted an acknowledgement and began to move, thank the Mother, and the feeling was…sublime. Without even thinking, he purred louder—and was startled to hear a light purr from her in return.
“Someone likes this…even without the full moon heat,” Owen said softly.
Thank fuck.
Why was this so…exhilarating? Darcy took more of Gawain’s cock in her mouth. Each breath brought her his masculine, musky scent, so much stronger around his groin. She stopped to nuzzle the soft hair between his hip and thigh. With gentle fingers, she caressed his testicles. They were round and hot and heavy.
His purring never slackened.
She ran her tongue up his cock, teased out the fat, winding veins, and licked away the drop of moisture at the top. The taste, like the deep forest at night, made her insides clench.
All right, enough playing. Gripping the base, she tried bobbing up and down. Licking. Sucking.
Gawain’s purring grew more intense.
And for some reason, heat engulfed her. Her pussy felt drenched, and her breasts throbbed.
“Don’t stop,” Owen said, even as he moved her right hand to the ground beside Gawain’s hip. The pat on her fingers let her know she should keep her hand there.
Don’t stop. She sucked lightly on the head of Gawain’s cock, and his breathing hitched. Oh, nice. Trying to add variation, she took his shaft almost all the way in her mouth, compressed her lips, and bobbed up, faster than before.
Hard hands lifted her hips up, forcing her to balance on her knees and one hand. When Owen’s fingers ran between her folds and over her tingling clit, she gasped.
She lifted her head and looked back. “What are you doing?”
“Seems I’ve heard that question before.” Kneeling behind her, he grinned. “This time, I’m playing with a little female’s body while she plays with my brother’s body.”
Securing his grip on her hip, he teased around her clit so knowledgeably that a seething tension began to build low in her pelvis. His eyes darkened, his gaze holding her. “And I’m going to take you. You’ll have both our cocks in you, so be prepared.”
Her breathing faltered to a halt. Take her…while her mouth was around Gawain’s cock. Desire built to a steady pulse between her legs.
She looked at Gawain.
He smiled at her, eyes half-lidded, and with a tug on her hair, directed her to resume. “No biting. But you can lift your head up if you need to scream.”
To scream. A shiver seized her. Setting thinking aside, she tried to concentrate on sucking and licking—even as Owen pressed a finger inside before running the slick finger around her clit again.
Hunger churned as the sensitive nub swelled. Her legs started to tremble.
Gawain tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her head down on his erection.
Even as more heat washed through her, she sucked on the thick shaft. Licked. Sucked. Lifted her head and slid him partway out.
Behind her, Owen moved closer. His cock pressed against her entrance, and even as she took Gawain’s shaft deeper, Owen pressed inside.
Oh my Gods. She thought she’d remembered what he felt like, but she hadn’t. She was slick with need, and there was no pain, just overwhelming pleasure as he breached her entrance.
As the head of his cock pressed in farther, and her swollen tissues were forced to stretch around him, she felt helpless in his grasp.
Lifting her head, she gasped for air.
He paused for a moment, another, then inexorably continued to advance until he filled her completely. When he stopped, his long shaft was planted deep within her.
As her core throbbed around him, she needed…needed more. She wiggled, gasping as his cock moved.
Laughing, Owen pushed her head down, reminding her of the erection resting against her cheek.
With a giggle, she turned her head and took Gawain’s shaft back in her mouth. Sucking lightly, she tongued him, loving the velvety texture.
Owen started to move, in and out, slowly, letting her adjust.
And the feeling…oh, the feeling. Forget adjusting. She rocked back onto him hard and swayed forward to swallow Gawain’s cock.
Both males were purring.
So was she.
Fingers curved unyieldingly around her hips, Owen penetrated her, withdrew, and continued, slowly, relentlessly increasing the speed.
Stone by stone, her need built to a mountain in her body.
Then Gawain made a low sound and twisted her hair around his hand to hold her still. “Give us a second, brawd.” His voice was hoarse.
Owen paused.
“Sweetling, if you continue, I’ll fill your mouth with my seed.” Gawain’s heated gaze met hers, giving her time to object.
Oh yes. She wiggled her delight and nodded.
Gawain’s eyes lit, and as he tugged her head down, he pumped in and out of her mouth in short fast strokes. As Owen held her hips still, Gawain’s cock hardened, thickened. She heard a rumbling groan of pleasure, and then his shaft was jerking in her mouth. The taste was intense, salty and musky, and she swallowed it down.
The grip on her hair loosened, and he stroked her head gently.
Lifting her head, she used her tongue to capture the last drops and lick him clean. “Mmm.”
His eyes were half-lidded and satisfied. “Thank you, pretty panther.” He guided her head down so she could rest her cheek on his flat belly. Closing his hands on her shoulders, he said, “Go, brawd.”
Owen chuckled and lifted her hips higher for still greater penetration. He pulled out, sank in, and slowly, steadily increased the pace.
As the driving rhythm set up a merciless throbbing, she clenched around him. She wanted more. Wanted to rock back and forth, but he gripped her hips, and Gawain held her shoulders. As the exquisite torment grew, she could do nothing but moan.
Leaning forward, Owen bit the nape of her neck, holding her lightly with his teeth. His hand reached between them down to her clit. His finger slid roughly over the sensitive nub with each plunge of his cock.
Everything faded except his thrusts and his finger on her clit. Every stroke and thrust increased the pleasure until she hovered at the heights of the most devastating sensation she’d ever known.
Then, he somehow rotated his hips, and his shaft struck a new place inside her. His ruthless finger pressed on her clit.
Everything within her stopped—even the planet came to a halt, then her world erupted into great, glorious spasms of pleasure, exploding outward until the very sky seemed filled with stars and the earth itself disappeared from under her.
As her core spasmed around the hard shaft, Owen pressed deep, deeper, and she could feel him inside her, filling her with his seed.
In the high mountain valley, the air was chill, yet the sun beat warmly against Owen’s skin. Sound asleep, Darcy lay with her head on his brother’s shoulder, pressed against his side, her breathing deep and slow. Cupping Darcy’s soft breast in one hand, Owen was curled behind her. He propped his head up on his free hand and drank in the moment. Each breath brought him the fragrance of sex, of this little female, of his littermate, mingling in a way that sent an ache through him. This was why a male lived. Why he fought. To win a female’s love and keep her safe.
For this female—for Darcy—he would willingly fight the entire world.
As he looked at Gawain, his contentment deepened. An arm behind his head, his littermate was watching Darcy, satisfaction almost humming from him.
They’d not only shared a female for the first time in decades, but that female was Darcy. She’d liked being with them both. Had cried out her pleasure. And snuggled between them with as much trust as an unweaned kitten.
Had any female ever trusted him so deeply? Had he ever wanted one to?
But Darcy…she was special. So amazing. He loved her ability to laugh, even at herself. Her courage to stand up to him when he was wrong. Her honesty. Her intelligence. Her loyalty to the people she’d left behind. She would show that same loyalty to her cubs. What a fearsome, amazing mother she would be.
What a mate.
But…would she want him? For more than just being God-chosen? Owen wasn’t charming. Wasn’t particularly good-looking, especially with all the scars he’d accrued over the years.
Then again, Darcy knew him better than any female ever had. She’d seen past the cahir legend to the grumpy, blunt male beneath, and she’d still mated with him when the moon wasn’t full.
Did she realize he’d give her the same loyalty he wanted from her?
“I want to keep her,” Owen said, his voice barely audible even to shifter ears. “Make her ours.”
“Yeah,” Gawain whispered. “We should keep her. She needs us.”
“Do you think she’d want to…? Does she…? How do we make her want to stay?”
Gawain’s lips tipped up. “The question she’ll ask, brawd, is if you love her.”
Darcy was having a happy dream, playing near a lake with two big males. The three of them were chasing each other’s tails, batting at ears with soft paws. Hiding in the grass and playing pounce.
A hand jostled her. “Darcy.”
One male caught her between his huge paws and the other leaped over her. So fun. Her heart swelled because these were her lifemates, the ones she’d dreamed of forever.
Only…they weren’t. These panthers weren’t average-sized and sleek. They were huge.
She frowned as her shoulder was shook again.
“Wake up, kitten.”
There was such a lovely scent around her. Musky male scents were blended with the fragrance of mating. Mating? Her eyes popped open.
She was lying in the grass on her back. Owen lay beside her.
On her other side, Gawain had his hand on her shoulder.
“Ah.” She felt her cheeks heat as her body reported in with the sensitive tingling in her nipples and how swollen her breasts were. There was an aching burn between her legs…and her jaw muscles felt tired. Her gaze dropped to where Gawain’s shaft lay quiet. It was still big, actually.
Her lips curved. Mating was amazing. Her whole body felt limp and thoroughly satisfied.
“Darcy.”
She jerked her gaze up. “Um, yes?”
Gawain’s cheek creased with his smile. “Time to go. The Cosantir needs to set things into motion, now we know where the shifter-soldiers live.”
“I’m sorry.” She sat up. What was she thinking to have fallen asleep? “We shouldn’t have—”
“It was time for a break.” Owen rolled up onto a knee and tucked her hair behind her ear. The tender look in his eyes made her breath catch. “We’ll eat on the run and make this a long day. You’re in better shape, so we should reach the car tomorrow morning.”
Gawain rose, pulled her easily to her feet, and did the same for his brother. “Grab a drink, rinse off, and we’ll be on our way.”
Beside her in the cold water, the males washed themselves off. She managed to stifle her squeaks at the icy water as she cleaned up, moved upstream, and drank her fill.
On the bank, Owen stopped beside her, his expression serious. “While we’re running in animal form, I want you to sink deep into the wild.”
Let go of control. Apprehension constricted her lungs.
“We’re your mentors. We won’t let you get so far you can’t return.” Gawain stood beside his brother.
She shoved the fear down. They were right. Fighting against her animal instincts made her clumsy. She refused to go through life falling off of branches. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” Owen squeezed her shoulder in approval.
“We’ll play a game.” Gawain grinned. “Follow-the-alpha. You simply do whatever Owen does.”
Owen’s smile was almost a smirk. “I’ll be jumping into trees, off boulders, over logs.”
Oh, goody, her favorite things. Not. “And you’ll be doing all this leaping and jumping, too?” She gave Gawain a skeptical look.
He only laughed. “Not a chance.”
Owen turned and jogged toward the forest, shifting into cougar without missing a step.
Wow. She tried the moving-trawsfur—at a fast walk—and her four feet almost tangled into a knot.
“Sink into the wild, catling. Let go.” Gawain shifted and ran easily beside her.
At an easy lope, Owen sprang up and into a tree, leaped off the lowest branch, and was back on the trail.
By the Mother, I can’t do that.
Yes. She could. She would.
Darcy shut her mind down and let the cat take over…all the way. She looked at the tree. The branch. Her body tensed, sprang, clawed up and onto the branch, then she was down and running the trail.
Taking a moment for a happy spin, she flirted with her tail and heard the low chuff of Gawain’s laughter.
Happily, she darted after Owen.