by Desiree Holt
Hayden and Stafford’s reactions were both a fraction too slow to do them any good. A moment after the cuffs clicked closed, the two younger men reacted, trying to pull their hands apart, to pull away from each other.
Jasmine, unable to step away from them without permission was, caught in the middle of the struggle. She braced herself for a fall as the cuffed hands, swung towards her. Her training failed her and she stepped back, all thought of permission temporarily forgotten.
As if someone tripped a switch inside them, both men reached for her the moment she moved. One hand grabbed her arm, another caught her wrist and each man pulled her towards them.
“What is the meaning of this?” Stafford demanded.
Jasmine looked up at him, thinking he spoke to her, but he stared beyond her at the council.
“If keeping you apart cannot appease the differences between you, we will keep you together. The human woman belongs to both of you for the rest of the night,” one of the council said.
“A slave?” Stafford spat. “Even the damn dogs know better than that. What the hell do you mean, putting the girl in this position?”
Jasmine turned her gaze to Hayden. He frowned. “We don’t own people,” he said. In a silly way, it felt he was saying it to her—as if her opinion was the only important one to him right then.
“If neither of you will accept charge of her, I will take her back with me, there are plenty of human men who would jump at the chance of spending the night with her,” Mr. Washington said.
He made it sound as if the prospect didn’t appeal to her—as if she hadn’t chosen this way of life of her own free will—as if she hadn’t spent the last months and years looking for a master. His tone of voice made the statement barely better than a lie, but it did the trick.
“I will take guardianship of her,” Stafford began.
“Mine,” Hayden growled at the same time.
They glared at each other.
“Very well,” Mr. Washington said. “The rules of the challenge are very simple. She is yours to do with as you please. Make whatever use you want of her—but you will stay in this room and in those cuffs until you reach an agreement, so don’t waste all your time screwing her.” His tone of voice changed to the one he only ever used when he was addressing a submissive. “They are your masters—do as they command without exception.”
“Yes, sir,” Jasmine whispered in return.
The council filed out of the room. For the first time in a long time, she felt nerves as well as desire peak inside her at the thought of the scene she was about to take part in. Not sure what else to do, Jasmine lowered her eyes and waited for an order to be issued.
For several long minutes the two men just glared at each other.
The tension in the room doubled over again and again, but in spite of all that, Jasmine felt something settle inside her. She had her orders, she knew what was expected of her. If only for one night, she belonged to someone—to two someones actually.
Finally, one of those two someones moved.
Stafford released his grip on her elbow and put his arm lightly around her shoulders. Hayden slowly let go of her wrist. He stepped to the side to let Stafford lead her to the edge of the bed, but followed them closely.
Jasmine’s training prompted her to lower herself to the floor at the side of the bed.
Stafford’s light grip around her shoulder’s tightened. “No, on the bed,” he corrected, guiding her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
Jasmine did as he commanded, and waited for another order.
“You have nothing to be scared of,” Stafford told her. “I’ll see no harm comes to you.”
As Stafford stood in front of her, Hayden crouched down next to him. He shouldered the side of Stafford’s leg until the other man moved slightly to the side and made room for him to face her too.
“She’s not afraid,” Hayden announced.
“And what do you know about humans?” Stafford demanded.
Hayden shrugged. “If she was afraid, she would smell afraid. She doesn’t smell afraid, so she’s not.”
He ducked his head, looking up at her, making an obvious effort to catch her eye. He was right about one thing at least. She saw no reason to be afraid of them. She’d submitted to enough men during her search for a master to be able to read the signs of cruelty or sadism in her prospective partners. These two young men, for all the stories she’d read about their respective species, were neither.
They were simply dominants—inexperienced, as was to be expected when neither of them was far past their teens, but with the potential to become great dominants, great leaders of their respective species in the years to come.
Jasmine took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as they blossomed once more. They were just the type of men she’d had in her mind when she started down the road to find a master.
One more deep breath. Jasmine hoped like hell Hayden couldn’t scent arousal as easily as he would have smelt her fear.
“I won’t hurt you,” Stafford said again.
Hayden looked up to Stafford. “And you think I would,” he growled.
“Werewolves are still wolves, they are not a species known for their gentleness.”
“And vampires are? At least we have learnt not to bite our lovers,” Hayden snapped, jerking back to his feet and making the extended chain between their handcuffs rattle.
“Lovers? A pretty word for a species capable of nothing more than rutting like animals,” Stafford taunted. “Vampires are known for skill, subtlety, seduction when they take a lover to their beds. Werewolves are merely known for an inclination to do it doggie style.”
They were so focused on each other, Jasmine felt it was safe to look up at them. Squaring off against each other, they were glorious. Two dominant men, as different as could be, fighting over her. If she hadn’t been well aware neither of them gave a damn about her, she might have been stupid enough to feel flattered by the idea.
Hayden’s expression slowly morphed into a smile. “A man with a small cock can become a fantastic lover if he puts a lot of time and effort into acquiring a great technique, a guy with a big cock doesn’t need to know a damn thing to be bloody marvellous.”
His gaze dropped to Stafford’s trousers. He looked particularly unimpressed.
The vampire’s eyes narrowed. They appeared to be two seconds from launching themselves at each other when Jasmine slid to her knees between them.
That at least made them pause for a few seconds. She felt their attention turn towards her.
Hayden crouched down. He stroked her hair back from her face. “Hey, it’s okay…” he stumbled for a moment when he obviously realised he didn’t know her name. “No one is mad at you. What’s your name?”
“I’ll answer to whatever name you choose to give me, sir,” she said softly. “I belong to both of you and I will do whatever you want me to do. My name is your choice.”
“I meant what I said,” Stafford said. “I’ll see no one takes advantage of your position in this arrangement.”
Hayden spared one, annoyed glance at the other man. “She doesn’t just belong to you. And I know well enough how to be careful with those weaker than me.” He reached out to touch her cheek. His palm was rough and had obviously seen a lot of use as the surface of a paw, but in spite of Stafford’s predictions, his touch was the most gentle she remembered feeling.
Leaning in close, he nuzzled her neck. “You’re safe,” he whispered, softly in her ear.
“What name is written on your birth certificate?” Stafford asked.
Jasmine looked up at him. The vampire glowered at Hayden’s closeness to her. He obviously wasn’t in the mood for games or for naming anyone.
“Jasmine Neal, sir,” she said.
He nodded. “Jasmine, very well. In case you missed the rather inadequate introductions earlier, I’m Stafford Ingram. The pup is Hayden Griffith.”
Hayden smiled against her neck and pr
essed a kiss to the sensitive bit of skin behind her ear.
“For heaven’s sake, stop slobbering all over the poor woman.”
He pressed another gentle kiss to her neck. “She likes it.”
“Not believing she has permission to push you away is not the same as welcoming you,” Stafford snapped.
She felt Hayden sway as Stafford tugged on the cuffs, but he didn’t move away from her.
“You do like it, don’t you, Jas?” he asked her, softly, whispering the words against her skin. “I can tell by your scent.”
Jasmine swallowed. The gentle kisses were getting to her, calling to something inside her that had slept through a great many of the scenes she had completed over the last few years.
Such soft touches from a strong master always made her ridiculously eager to please and gain more of the same. She looked up at Stafford and saw his expression change as he saw the truth in her eyes.
“You are here of your own free will?” he asked.
Jasmine swallowed down her nerves. “Yes, sir.”
Stafford studied her very carefully. Seeing no other way to communicate the truth, she forced herself to hold his gaze and let him read the truth there.
“You want this, with both of us?” Stafford asked, almost daring her to lie to him.
Jasmine took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected it to be the entire truth, she hadn’t expected the misgivings she’d felt when she agreed to take part in the scene to fade away so quickly, but somehow when she nodded it was the entire truth.
Yes, something inside her said. She wanted this. She wanted both of them.
“Excuse us for a moment.” Stafford sharply tugged on the cuff around Hayden’s wrist. “We need to talk.”
Hayden shrugged. He rubbed his cheek against hers. He was clean shaven without a touch of stubble to roughen the gesture. His fingers stroked the other side of her face, trailing down her neck. “So, talk,” he told the other man. “I’m not stopping you.”
“In private,” Stafford clarified with obviously forced calm.
Hayden pulled back a fraction. He looked from Jasmine to Stafford and back again. He gave another shrug and a soft sigh.
Getting up from his crouching position, he turned back to her before he followed Stafford to the other side of the room. “Stay there.”
“She is not a bloody puppy,” Stafford snapped.
“I didn’t say she was.”
“Then stop ordering her around as if she’s the mongrel in the room.”
“I want her to stay where she is. If I don’t tell her, she won’t know,” the werewolf replied calmly.
Stafford gave a long suffering sigh. He walked away, tugging on the cuff. Jasmine heard him mutter the words, “heel boy,” under his breath.
Hayden growled in response, but he followed Stafford across the room and out of her earshot.
Stafford Ingram looked across the room. The woman, Jasmine, sat on the edge of the bed, eyes lowered and patiently waiting. Her hair flowed across her shoulders, down her back. It was practically impossible to catch sight of her throat, unless you were willing to burrow and nuzzle past the blonde locks the way the damn wolf had. Stafford took a deep breath and tried to turn his thoughts away from the girl’s jugular.
The thought of sharing a woman with the wolf was… he mentally shook his head at himself. This is what he got for going too long between feedings. If blood lust hadn’t been pounding through his veins, begging him to feed from her it would never have even occurred to him to lower his standards far enough to include a damn werewolf in his sex life—even if the man was very firmly on the other side of a woman.
“You’re certain you would be able tell if she was unwilling?” Stafford asked.
“Can’t you tell?” Hayden asked, tilting his head on the side as he studied him.
Not with blood lust making him lightheaded with need. Not with the damn wolf in the room clouding his thoughts and making it so much harder for him to focus in on the woman. He couldn’t speak softly to her and read her body language the way he normally would, not without showing weakness before the other man—and that wasn’t going to happen.
It was bad enough to have to ask the man once. He would cheerfully be damned before he gave him the satisfaction of repeating the question.
“I am sure,” Hayden finally said. “I can smell it in her scent.”
Stafford nodded that he had heard, then he stood very still, determined not to show any sign of uncertainty. “If we are going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
“Why?”
“Because the only reason I’m resisting the temptation to kill you right now is because I don’t want your corpse hanging from my arm until the council stop playing these stupid bloody games and let us out of the room.”
Hayden seemed to consider the possibility that Stafford would mount an attack on him for several long seconds before he shrugged the idea aside. “Werewolves are not easily killed. Perhaps I am the one who will be left with a corpse attached to his wrist.”
“We need to set the rules,” Stafford repeated firmly.
“Werewolves do not follow rules.”
“Well, you’re going to have to learn pretty bloody quickly if you want this to happen,” Stafford snapped.
“There is a natural order,” Hayden said. “Rules are not necessary when everyone in the pack knows his place in the order.”
“Fine,” Stafford bit out. “Your natural place in the order is after me. I want the girl first.”
Hayden looked back at her over his shoulder. He seemed to consider the matter very carefully, putting more thought into the matter than Stafford would have believed a wolf capable of. Then he nodded. “Yes.”
Stafford waited, but the word seemed to be the beginning and the end of the answer. He tried to switch mental tracks. The long and difficult battle he’d expected to fight before finally gaining privilege of laying with Jasmine first wasn’t happening and for a full minute he couldn’t think of anything to say.
Finally he kicked his brain into action. “You have no objection?”
Hayden shook his head. “Why would I?” he asked.
Stafford cast a suspicious look at him. The werewolf returned it blankly.
“Very well,” Stafford said eventually. He looked at the cuffs around their wrists. There was only a certain amount of space he could put between them—at the very least, they would have to allow the pup onto the bed with them. There was no chance to obtain any privacy for Jasmine.
Privacy. Yes, Stafford told himself he wanted it, but he knew it was a lie. At least part of him wanted Hayden to see him with Jasmine. He wanted to make it quite clear to the wolf that the woman was his. There really was no better way to do so than let him watch and see the evidence for himself.
Pushing that aside as best he could, Stafford turned away from Hayden and walked back across the room to Jasmine.
As he reached her, he held out his hand. Jasmine hesitated, but rose to her feet, placing her hand delicately in his. With his one hand trapped alongside Hayden’s, it was practically useless. He had to let go of Jasmine’s hand before he could brush her hair back to reveal her throat.
“You know how vampires feed?” he asked her.
She nodded.
Stafford tucked her hair back behind her ear, completely exposing her neck. There was no mark where a vampire had fed from her before. Against all his expectations, she was truly fresh blood.
“The bite does not hurt,” he told her. “Most women find it very pleasurable.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
Stafford leaned in and kissed her neck, very gently. An expectant shiver ran through her body. He smiled against her skin and trailed his lips over her neck. Hayden was right, she wanted this, and she wanted the bite too. He could always tell once he was close enough to feel the tremors of building desire running though a woman’s body. Her breaths sped up. Her muscles tensed. She was waiting for it now, waiting
rather impatiently if he was any judge.
Stafford trailed his lips back to her mouth. The first kiss was important. A brief brush of lips to start with—just a little something to tell her what was to come, to make her crave a real kiss. By the time he allowed her the real kiss she was leaning eagerly into his touch. She whimpered as he finally slid his tongue between her lips and tasted her properly.
He opened his eyes as he broke the kiss, so he could guide her backwards onto the mattress. As she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, he pushed his clothes off, dropping them onto the floor around his feet. There was nothing that could be done with his shirt except to rip the sleeve so it could be torn from the handcuffs. He tossed the ruined garment away as he joined Jasmine on the bed.
Hayden got onto the bed next to them, and settled himself comfortably, watching them both with obvious curiosity. The damn werewolf had no sense of decency. Stafford tried to turn his attention away from the man, but he was just there, just watching him.
“Do you have to stare like that?” he demanded.
The wolf rested his elbow on his knee. “Why shouldn’t I watch you?” Hayden asked. “Jasmine is very beautiful. I will enjoy watching her pleasure. Don’t vampires like to watch too?”
Stafford frowned across at him, but he was damned if he would waste any more of his time with him when Jasmine was so ready to offer him her body and her blood.
“Just try to ignore him,” he told her. Leaning close in to her, he whispered in her ear. “He is not important. Pretend it is just you and me.”
She nodded and he guided her to lie back on the bed. Leaning over her, he kissed her again, trailing his kisses over her neck once more. She relaxed back so easily for him. “So beautiful,” he whispered. “A vision of Aphrodite.”
“Who’s she?”
Stafford looked over his shoulder at Hayden. “What?”
“Aphrodite, who is she?”
“It’s not polite to interrupt people when they are having sex,” Stafford said through gritted teeth.
“It’s not polite to call one woman by another woman’s name during sex either. You’re going to end up getting slapped if you make a habit of it.”
