Because this was about more than sex. This was about a sense of potential loss. They’d survived…again, but life as outsiders grew more dangerous by the day. They risked exposure. They risked their lives. Bobby’s decision on that score shone out from his eyes and later…much later, a talk was overdue. One involving their future and Sam. For now…she gave in to her animal and became what Bobby needed her to be. His mate.
His scent and the sound of his growl, spoke of the way he held himself tense. Bobby wanted to screw her until she sobbed. Until she came again and again and begged him to stop as the pleasure spilled her over the precipice where the delight was sharp and all the sweeter.
Though she hadn’t forgotten Sam, he didn’t need her in the same way. So, when he hooked a hand under one of her knees and helped Bobby open her, put her on display for her Alpha to use as he pleased, it didn’t surprise her. Instinct made her touch Bobby’s stomach, though whether to urge him on or keep him at bay, impossible to say. His muscles contracted, his breathing hitched. Unable to stay her hand, she took hold of Bobby’s cock, which jerked at her touch. His thrust into her grip was more from need than desire, a reaction beyond his control. Made him growl all the more, made her react, as she threw her head back, body curling, hips lifting.
She met Bobby’s intense stare, the tip of him nudging her entrance where she placed him, teasing him with the wetness there in a circular motion. Between her legs he trembled, trying to maintain control. Trying to be the Alpha.
“I took you long ago,” he told her.
The smile bloomed on her face, the laugh in her throat. “Because I wanted you to.” Yes, they’d fucked, made love, and mated; because she had chosen him, and she would never let him forget.
“Damn you, woman.”
Sam’s uncertain glance flicked between them. “What am I missing here?”
“A shifter-joke.” Chantelle didn’t want Sam to worry.
“Some joke.” Bobby at last dipped into her, withdrew a second later. Even now he tried to prove he was in control. He lasted several seconds before he moaned, pressing inside her. Froze, shivered…she was positive as he tried to withdraw…and sank home. Hard to crow like a winner when the sensation made every inch of her body tingle.
Hard to believe she…they…all three might have lost this. No. Had it taken. This connection went beyond the physical, which was the best thing about being a shifter. With strength only a shifter possessed, Bobby lifted her, filling her, making her yelp, not with pain but with overpowering sensation. She looped an arm around his neck but had little to do with the way he rode her on his dick. Sam moved behind her, hands going to her breasts, his mouth to her neck. His cock brushed her backside every time Bobby moved her to another stroke. God but she was so open, so exposed, so out of control. Sam caught her nipples between his fingers with a scissoring action as far from violent as it was possible to be. As though his touch was connected to the most intimate parts of her, the flicks sent electrical currents to her sex. Inner muscles clenched, making Bobby moan. The sound seeped into her ears, sparking in her brain, warming her heart, until everything overlapped. Touched. Hearts, minds, skin, flesh. Needs. Desires.
While Bobby concentrated on burying his cock, Sam’s mouth never left her skin. His kisses scorched a trail along her neck, over one shoulder. Then the second. He edged closer until her back met his chest, and he twisted, cupping her breasts and angling his head until he took a nipple into his mouth, releasing it when it became a hard nub.
“Lay her down,” Bobby ordered, and Sam did, at once covering her, treating her other breast to the same treatment. Working his way lower, flicking his tongue over her clit even as Bobby thrust into her, licking over Bobby if she wasn’t mistaken. Which meant…
Sam had crawled over her. His cock nudged her forehead. All it took was Bobby’s, “Take him if you want,” and she tilted her head and took Sam in her mouth. Opened her throat. Tasted him on her tongue. Almost choked as Sam’s tongue worked its magic, soft silken sensation made wicked with an added nip. Causing ripples Bobby surely felt.
* * * *
Bobby hadn’t expected Sam to join in so readily. He’d planned to take Chantelle and then Sam. His animal half wanted to push Sam off her but…the man had almost lost her the same as Bobby had. Bobby stroked a hand over Sam’s head, the other man freezing before twisting, seeking affection…like an animal striving for a pat. Even as he did, Sam flicked his tongue over Chantelle’s clit as Bobby so plainly saw, and she clinched, almost igniting Bobby’s orgasm. The way Sam’s hips bucked told him the man was close, too. Not surprising when Bobby knew the sinful things Chantelle did with her throat.
Time to move things around. He pulled out. Both Sam and Chantelle made sounds of complaint which ramped up Bobby’s need. He nudged Sam off, urged Chantelle onto her hands and knees.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Her expression was all sly and sardonic, but Bobby wasn’t fooled. At his urging she opened to him, head lowered, tilting her hips back. Bobby caught Sam around the back of the neck, kissed his mouth, lips and tongue, hungry, devouring before he whispered in Sam’s ear, aware Chantelle wouldn’t miss a word.
Her slight gasp filled the room. Sam went rigid in his grip.
“Are you sure?”
“Nevermore so.” Bobby pressed his lips against Sam’s temple. “She’s mine and you’re mine but we’re also yours. I need to take what’s mine. Take what’s yours.”
His mate was already wet and open to him. Didn’t take a second for Bobby to bury himself inside her. Sam took longer to search for lube, apply it, and ease himself inside Bobby, but Bobby kept still, braced with one hand on the bed, weight resting on Chantelle’s back. As a shifter he could accommodate Sam with more ease than a human, but the animal in him howled in denial. He was Alpha.
He was also human, and he wanted to belong to Sam, to give this to him, same as Sam gave himself to Bobby in so many ways. Bobby snarled at his own animal and allowed Sam to control the rhythm, pushing into Bobby, pushing Bobby into Chantelle. The sounds she made spoke of what they shared. His body came alive under the onslaught, the…punishment. He held his animal bound and as hard as the cock he thrust into his mate. Power, strength. The combination called to their animals so even as Bobby came on the waves of Chantelle’s orgasm, Sam’s snarl filled the room—inhuman…the man’s animal staking a claim in a way in which it was never previously capable.
* * * *
Magic. Chantelle wasn’t sure she believed magic was part of the reason they changed. To her the transformation touched something more primal. Some natural little known evolution. Still, as a second orgasm followed the first, and it occurred to her Bobby might never stop coming, Sam…roared, sending shock after shock through her body as though someone had plugged her into the universe’s power socket.
So intense was their sharing she was prepared to believe anything. No way would Bobby fail to knot inside her, so she cried out when his withdrawal was brutal. She fell, rolling on the bed covers, dazed, not knowing what she expected when she looked, but unsurprised to see amber eyes, Sam’s clawed fingers, hunched shoulders, ripe cock, still hard. Same for Bobby. He was more human except for the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze.
“Need…to…run.” The words came out behind teeth more canine than human, and at once her own teeth extended. Bobby was right. There was no fighting the change. Her mate’s need overrode everything. Called to her animal.
The next thing she knew they crashed through the undergrowth, lips peeled back, doggy grins flashing in the night as they glanced at each other. They broke off, parted, and came back together. Chased one another, fought over the lead, which Bobby won naturally. Though Sam was the odd one out, a hybrid, part human, part animal he ran as fast as they, nipped at Bobby’s ankles, rolled over and showed his belly when Bobby pretended to retaliate.
They broke into a clearing under a bright moon, pausing until Bobby took off again. They lost sight of him almost at once
. Stopped to listen, the night alive with insects, with creatures which only came out at night, with potential. They had survived, and they were a pack. The time had come to find a safe haven.
Bobby howled, and she and Sam responded to his call.
* * * *
The Pooch family sat around the table trying not to stare at the clock.
“Are they late?”
“No, Margaret.” Robert Pooch patted his wife’s hand. He was older now and though it was hard to have a younger Alpha in the pack, when it was his own son, he was both happy, and ready, to step aside. Being part human, he failed to shake all known ailments. Not even the change always sped his healing these days. His strength was no longer what it had once been.
“I never dreamed Bobby would come home like this. With a mate and a…a pack of his own.” Shelley, one of Bobby’s siblings, the youngest and a shy thing who had opted to stay at home, shredded a tissue between her fingers.
“Don’t say it that way. Like it’s a bad thing.”
She peered at him, gaze bright. “Oh, I’m not.”
“Why the fear then?” He’d caught it in her scent. She appeared embarrassed as she returned to studying the torn tissue.
“I…guess there’s…a little fear. I’ve never seen it done. Heard the stories but…” She gazed at him, her father, and he caught a sense of awe. Fear yes, but flavoured with wonderment. “I heard you attempted to change someone twice.”
He gave her a slow nod. Yes, he’d tried to save someone twice, succeeded once. To think…his son. This Sam was a hybrid. To bring about the transformation took power. Pride swelled within his chest. He longed to meet Sam. To have the man run with them, to witness first-hand the strength his Bobby carried in his blood and Chantelle…If there were pups in Bobby’s future they could be born, safely, at home.
The sound of a car pulling up to the farmhouse reached his ears long before headlights flashed across the windows. Robert stood, nodding to the two women at the table; Bobby’s mother and sister. No one spoke a word, but all three went to the door to welcome Bobby and his pack to their new home.
THE END
ABOUT SHARON MARIA BIDWELL
Sharon was born in London on New Year’s Eve. She has always followed many creative pursuits. Eventually, her love of books and a wild imagination compelled her to focus on writing. Her work has appeared steadily in both print and electronic publications. Her short story “Bitter and Intoxicating” was snapped up for inclusion in the anthology Red Velvet and Absinthe. This compilation, edited by Mitzi Szereto with a foreword by Kelly Armstrong, was designed to evoke the romantic ethos of classic Gothic fiction with a serving of eroticism. With a repertoire of tales and a love of cross-genre writing, it surprised everyone (including herself) when Sharon branched out into erotic romance. These works have been critically acclaimed and often described as “deeply passionate.” Sharon’s worlds are vivid, unexpected, and sometimes intensely magical. Sharon writes whatever her warped mind can come up with and is quite capable of writing something darker, grittier, and even outright twisted. She was propelled into the Steampunk universe of Space, 1899 and beyond, once shared a publisher with the creator of Roger Rabbit, and has lived in a house with a Harry Potter cupboard under the stairs.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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