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When the Starrs Align: (A paranormal menage romance novella) Page 3
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He broke the kiss, panting. “Shit. I knew it.”
“My turn,” Chance growled.
Before she could form a coherent thought, Warrick moved aside, and Chance kissed her. Just like his twin, Chance stole her will to do anything but moan and arch into his touch.
Sweet yet hot. Passionate and tender while still managing to turn her panties into a wet mess, the man had the art of the kiss down to a science. Down to magic…
He pulled away, and she saw a flash of green in his pupils. Wow. That she’d never seen before. But it disappeared before she could blink, and she wondered if she’d really seen that or was seeing stars.
“Your nipples are hard,” Warrick mused and cupped her breast.
Her breast. She wanted to deny him, to tell them both to stop playing with her like this, but then he rolled his thumb over her nipple, and her head fell back. His name slipped from her of its own volition.
Chance put a hand between her legs, increasing her arousal. “I know we tied you up and all, but we definitely don’t want to do anything to you that you don’t want. Regan, are you willing to let us make it up to you? All that bad shit we did back then. We owe you.”
Warrick pinched her nipple, and she moaned. So embarrassing. But when she dared a look at him, she saw a smile reflected in his eyes. “Yeah. We owe you big time. Let us show you how sorry we are.”
They sat there, not moving. Warrick’s hand on her breast, Chance’s between her legs. She was in heaven and hell, because she wanted a crack at them before they took their power to heart and left her and the other peons far behind.
But what if they didn’t mean it? What if it was all just a joke to them? Taunt the stupid shifter girl, the one with magic all locked up inside her. As a feline she could kick their asses. As a witch? She sucked. And not in a good way.
“Come on, Regan. Say yes.” Chance leaned in to kiss her again. Then he removed his hand and stood, and she saw up close that he wasn’t kidding. He wanted to show her something, all right. A huge erection filled the fly of the jeans. “Look, we want you. Have always wanted you. What do you say? No strings, just good fun. And I swear, you’ll come at least twice before we do.”
We. Both of them. The fantasy of every sexual woman and gay man in covens from here to Alaska. “This isn’t a joke?” she whispered, looking from Chance to Warrick, wanting badly to believe, if only in the now.
“No, sweetheart. Not a joke.” Warrick untied her restraints. Then he whispered a few words, and the bands keeping her from shifting let go.
“Oh, much better.”
The brothers stood next to each other, waiting for her. No sudden moves. No bullshit. Nothing but sheer need.
“You want me?”
They nodded in unison.
Decision time. No regrets. Time to go big or go home.
After a few moments, she made her decision. “Then show me what I’ll be getting. Time to get naked, boys.”
5
Expecting them to balk at her orders, Regan couldn’t stop staring when they undressed right in front of her. The entire time they kept their gazes fastened on her face. She should have told them to stop, that she’d had enough, accepted their apologies, and would be on her way. But she could only gawk at perfection.
“You’re…hard.”
Thick and long and hung. Dear God. Now what?
“For you.” Chance didn’t blink.
Neither did Warrick. “All for you. So yes or no?”
“Because we have a lot of groveling and pleading to do for your forgiveness.” Chance winked. He held himself, and she licked her dry lips, encouraged when his stare fastened on her mouth and stayed there. “Say yes.”
“Better yet, let us convince you to say yes.” Warrick took a step forward.
“Convince me how?” she breathed.
“Say yes and find out.” Chance pumped himself and groaned, the head of his cock slick.
So incredibly sexy. “Okay. Yes. But anytime I say no, you stop. I mean it.” Like that would happen. But they needed to know this wasn’t about putting another notch on their bedposts. This was about Regan finally getting what she wanted.
“We swear,” they said in unison.
“Then show me why I should forgive you two.” She put her hands on the hem of her aunt’s blasted sweater and yanked it off. Then she removed her slacks and breathed easier. Standing only in lacy panties and a matching pink bra—and thank God she and her aunt were pretty much the same size there—she stood waiting.
“Christ. I’ll be lucky if I don’t come right now.” Chance let go of himself and looked even larger than he had before.
“Yeah,” Warrick agreed, his voice hoarse. “Um, Regan? You on anything?”
“Drugs?”
Chance laughed. “No. Birth control.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “Yeah.” She had been since she’d turned sixteen, wanting to be ready just in case. And five years later, she’d finally had her in case. Nothing to write home about. But this… She had a feeling today would certainly be a day she’d never forget.
She didn’t bother asking them about disease. She could smell their clean health thanks to her feline sensibilities, which were oddly active.
“So where should we—Warrick.” She gasped as he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her down the hall into a large bedroom with a bed built for giants. She didn’t get a chance to touch his tight, bitable ass because he tossed her on the bed. She’d barely caught her breath before he positioned himself on the bed between her legs.
Then all she could do was moan while he demonstrated why she should say yes to anything at all they wanted to do to her.
Chance watched as his brother finally took what they’d both been dreaming about for years. An intimate taste of Regan Riley. The missing piece of the puzzle.
It was as if someone had thrown a switch, and every nerve ending in his brain, body, and magic came to life. He could feel her, deep inside, the way he had that first time he’d laid eyes on her.
As a young girl of ten, she’d been so sweet and innocent, a hint of the beauty she’d one day become. He’d felt affection, protective even.
But to see her like this, her head back, her body flush with arousal while her legs spread wide for the powerful man between them…
“Oh God. Warrick, yes. More.”
The carnal need starkly outlined on her face riveted him in place. Until Warrick mentally nudged him. They needed an all-out, full-on seduction if they had any hope of convincing Regan to give them more than one night. Fortunately, the chemistry between her and them went both ways.
“I’m coming. Oh yes. Yes,” she cried and shuddered under Warrick’s touch.
They’d spent years perfecting their talents. Warrick drove women crazy with his mouth. But Chance had other skills.
He moved in, not wanting to give Regan an opportunity to change her mind. He still couldn’t believe he’d let Warrick untie her earlier, giving her a chance to escape.
Not now. Not any longer. He joined them on the bed, so hard he ached.
Warrick moved back and slid a finger inside her.
“She’s tight. And fucking hot,” Warrick growled, his eyes alight with a glowing green at their center. Interesting.
Chance wasn’t sure what it meant, but knowing he had to have her soon or he’d explode, he put his mouth to Regan’s breast and sucked the taut nipple, worrying it with tender bites until she was writhing once more.
He turned his attention to her other breast while Warrick continued to play with her.
“I feel so good right now,” she said on a moan.
Then, to his shock, he swore he heard a low rumble—a purr.
“Oh man. I’m so close to coming. I need to be inside her,” Warrick sent him.
“Me too. Let me taste that pussy.”
He felt Warrick’s grin while Warrick switched places with him.
Chance put his mouth over her slick core, and the taste of her sent
shivers down his spine. So sweet, and all theirs. He didn’t know how he knew, but the sense of possession lingered over her like a dollop of cream. Light and frothy but definitely there.
He added a finger, and this time when she moaned, he heard his and Warrick’s names on her lips.
“Yeah, sweet. That’s it. Let us take you.”
“In me. Fill me up, Chance,” she said and stared at him through slit eyes, the glow of energy in their depths mesmerizing. “No, Warrick. I want you in my mouth.”
Warrick moaned, “Fuck me.”
“I plan to,” she rasped.
Chance pulled her to the end of the bed then moved off it to stand between her legs. He positioned himself at her core.
Warrick didn’t waste any time, scooting to straddle her neck. A second later, she did something that made him groan.
“I’m gonna come so hard,” Warrick muttered. “Baby, if you don’t want to swallow, tell me soon.”
No longer able to see her face with his brother there, Chance edged into her warmth and pushed. Slick from having come once, she gloved him in one tight, wet grip.
“Hell. I’m not gonna last either. Oh God. Regan.” He couldn’t stop himself from fucking her harder.
By the sounds Warrick made, his brother felt just fine. Chance wanted her to ripple around him, to share in wave after wave of lust and affection and magic.
He rubbed her clit while he took her, and she moaned around his brother’s cock.
“That’s it. All of me. Yes!” Warrick shouted as he came.
Not able to hold off, Chance prayed he’d given her the second climax he’d promised before he jetted into her. By the blood. She tensed and shivered as he lost his mind and emptied inside her.
The orgasm shook him to the bone. Lights danced in the room. Real sparks of magic and energy wove through the dim light in their bedroom to brighten the space with fireworks.
Warrick moved off Regan and lay back on the bed.
Not wanting to but knowing he should, Chance withdrew and left to fetch a washcloth. He returned to see her lying next to his brother, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
He cleaned her with tender strokes, satisfied to know he’d left a part of himself inside her. His seed and his magic. And she’d accepted him.
Warrick too had given her more than just his physical essence, but an unspoken pledge of fealty, should she ever call on it. Chance wondered if she could sense the ties that had formed in this room, or if her bound witch magic left her unable to experience such a sharing.
After he tossed the cloth aside, he joined her on the bed. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Warrick murmured.
“Not you.” Chase chuckled. “I was talking to Regan.”
She sighed and turned to hug him. “That was absolutely incredible. I don’t think I can move.”
“So don’t.” Warrick spooned behind her, holding her between them. “Let’s take a breather. I’m not sure I convinced you yet to let us apologize.”
She laughed and started purring again. Chance kissed her while Warrick stroked her belly. And soon the sound lulled them into a light doze.
6
Chance woke sometime later, the room black except for the streams of moonlight coming through the curtains.
Something warm and wet engulfed his cock, and he left himself open to the experience, no safeguards or wards to stop this dream. If it was in fact a dream.
“Mmm,” Regan hummed. “You taste good.”
He thrust up into her mouth, not having expected her to take control.
Warrick, never a sound sleeper, moved around Regan and propped her up on her knees. Then without missing a beat, his brother thrust home.
“Oh yeah.” Chance groaned. “Do that again, Warrick. She sucks harder when you fuck her like that. All…fierce. Shit. I’m so hard. Please tell me I’m awake.”
“You’re awake,” Warrick said, his voice like gravel. “My dreams are never this good.”
Between them, Regan worked him with her mouth while teasing Warrick with her pussy. Chance tried to hold out, but she’d woken him out of a sexy dream with that tongue, and he’d been dying to have her for years.
“Swallow it all up. Oh yeah. Coming,” he managed and poured down her throat. Like a good kitty, she licked while purring. Then she sucked him dry before letting him go.
Warrick bellowed and released into her, clutching her hips like a lifeline. He didn’t withdraw when finished but eased a hand under her to rub her clit. She fucked herself with his cock, rocking back onto him while she stared at Chance. He’d never seen anything so erotic.
And when she closed her eyes and shuddered, her rapture once again lit the room in bursts of vibrant color.
“So fucking good,” Warrick rasped as he shoved deep once more.
To Chance’s surprise, his brother came again—he felt the link between them go taut as Warrick’s magic was pulled once more.
They’d had their share of sex over the years, but never had the union involved more than their bodies. This…whatever it was with Regan had them all reacting to each other on a deeper, more intense level.
This time when they all three collapsed to the bed, they fell into an immediate sleep. Chance had a few bad moments when he thought she might leave him, but the soft press of her lips to his chest eased him from the nightmares encroaching with the blood moon.
Regan woke the next day pleasantly sore in places that hadn’t seen use in more than a year. Not that she’d been celibate since leaving Darkton, but she’d been all of sixteen when she’d left. In the ten years since, only a small handful of men had ever measured up to her standards.
Her last relationship had ended a year and a half ago. The fun had lasted until he’d grown clingy, and by then the sex had long since passed its shelf life.
Had she ever seen stars before during sex? Stars from the Starrs.
The funny thought had her chuckling, and she looked around her for her new lovers, who had disappeared. Lovers. With an S. Plural. Didn’t see that one coming either.
Chance walked into the room wearing a towel around his lean waist that did nothing but show off his sculpted body. “Good morning, sweet. Hungry?”
“Is that a euphemism for sex, or are you going to feed me before I leave?”
Chance frowned. “Leave?”
“Well, uh, yeah. You have less than two weeks until the blood moon. From all I’ve heard about this big ceremony, you and Warrick have a ton of preparation to do.”
He grinned. “Oh. That.”
“Yeah.” She glanced around. “Where’s the dark brooding one? Off scaring children and kicking puppies?”
He laughed. “I always loved that about you. Your sense of humor.”
“You did?”
“Sweetheart, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Warrick and I had a serious case of the hots for you back in the day. When you hit your stride in high school, we lost our minds.” He sat on the bed beside her, all that gorgeous muscle just begging to be stroked. “We really are sorry about everything.”
“Even Leo?” she teased, seeing his guilt and still shocked to know it existed.
“Well, not him. He’s such a little shit. Even now, he’s strutting around town brokering to be mayor.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Rumor has it he’s been hitting up your dad for support. Everyone knows what a big influence Phil has in town.”
“Not as much as your parents.”
He made a face. “Yeah, about that. My mom is on her way over in another hour. And I need you to—”
Regan rolled out of bed and searched for her clothes. She found her bag—that she hadn’t brought yesterday—sitting on top of a dresser.
The thought of facing Lisabeth Starr after banging both her sons didn’t sit well. At all.
“Stop. Just stop.”
She ignored Chance and grabbed a handful of clothes then walked toward the source of steam entering
the bedroom from the attached bathroom.
Before she could reach it, a gaping black hole appeared in the bedroom, from which Warrick stepped out wielding a sword as long as his arm. He wore a pair of black leather pants and nothing else and had scratches and blood tracing down his chest, arms, and in two spots,on his neck.
“Warrick?”
“Fucking vamps. I hate fangers.” Warrick scowled, and a darkness hazed over him while the portal behind him closed. Then he blinked at Regan, and the darkness lifted. “Hey, you’re up.” He smiled.
That pleased grin, so opposite the menacing expression he’d just shown, shook her. She took a step back, clutching her clothes like a lifeline.
“Seems to me you two need a shower. Take one—conserve water,” Chance recommended and took the sword Warrick handed him.
“Good idea.” Warrick nodded to the bathroom. “Ladies first.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of getting fucked or cleaned, yeah. You pick.”
Seeing him sweaty, bloody and battle-hardened was a turn-on, no question. But the thought of his mother soon coming… “The shower.”
“Spoilsport.”
His sad face nearly had her reconsidering.
The brisk shower gave her no time to think about anything but getting clean. When Warrick had a mission, he went all out. He washed her hair, lathered up her body—lingering on her breasts—and tenderly saw to her lady parts. Such gentle care from a man sporting healing vampire wounds.
Vampires—a common enemy fought by mages and shifters alike. The undead were nothing like the romanticized fictional versions. They appeared human enough but were super-pale. Their eyes, though—it was like looking into hell, that oblivion tempered with hunger. And their bright fangs usually dripped with blood and flesh as they dug into anything with skin.
She let the water run over them both, soaping up his hair and rinsing it before she asked, “What the hell, Warrick? Since when can you open doorways to other places? The teleporting thing shook me yesterday. But this? Does anyone know you can do that?”