Tigers in Her Bed [The Tigers of Texas 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Em Ashcroft

  “No, no I’m not,” she said, trying to mop up her tears. “I’m staying here.”

  “He says he’ll be in touch,” Sam said. “He told me to remind you that Style is going digital, and you can work on a digital magazine from anywhere.”

  She looked up at him, her heart in her mouth. “You mean—”

  “I mean you’re still on the payroll, if you want to be. But you’re to take a month’s vacation first. So you can marry us.”

  Now she wept in earnest, sobbing into his chest. Sam hugged her, laughing, as CJ came up to them, grinning.

  “I heard,” he said.

  “Good, because we’re not letting this one go.” He waved to Jeb, who had given him a ride from the hospital, jab-touched his forehead in a two-finger salute, and strode off in the direction of the lodge.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two months later

  Rachel sat between her husbands, still stunned at the activity in the week since Sam had come home. There hadn’t even been time for Kevin’s trial, although he’d been arraigned and imprisoned without bail. Mason was helping the cops get the necessary paperwork done. Kevin would be tried and sentenced in the States.

  But today was for them. The hotel had put on a wedding at such short notice that Rachel’s days had whirled with activity, so much that she had barely noticed where she slept that first night. Except, in the morning, she realized they’d given her the room dedicated to their breedmates. Unfortunately, she slept in the huge bed alone that week. Her men refused to touch her, promising that they’d share permanently after the wedding. They’d bought her rings, one for each hand. Sam had given her a blue diamond, the color of his eyes, and CJ went with the traditional white diamond because, he said, of her beauty.

  She’d cried, they’d kissed, but then they’d led her into the living room and spent the evening watching old romantic comedies and eating popcorn. Then they’d put her to bed but left her at the bedroom door. Again.

  At least that meant she could go to the nearest wedding dress store in Houston and spend a day choosing the perfect gown for the weekend.

  Sam spent most of the first few days shape-shifted, so his bullet wound would heal cleanly in time for their wedding night. The progress of healing was so rapid Rachel could hardly believe it. He discarded the sling on the second day, and on the fifth, he mounted his horse without help and rode around the vacation ranch, checking the fences.

  During that week, Rachel had accepted her fate. Embraced it with both arms and hugged it with glee, more like. Brooke sent her congratulations, and they Skyped, a joyous call with the cubs growling and playing on the floor around Brooke. Maybe Rachel would have cubs of her own before too long.

  Now she was married. After a beautiful ceremony in the formal drawing room of the hotel, they went downstairs, where the ballroom was decked out with long banqueting tables and fragrant roses. Rachel’s face would crack if she didn’t stop smiling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She gripped her husbands’ hands as if she’d never let go until the toasts were proposed and they had to stand. Mason, at the other end of the head table, raised his glass. He’d explained his doubtful comments to her as jealousy.

  “You’re a potential breedmate. I’ve been alone too long.”

  She readily forgave him, especially when Sam told her of his part in Kevin’s capture.

  The staff of the magazine had returned to the Big Apple, but Rachel and the guys would go there in the near future to pack up her stuff and bring it back home. Home! That had a great sound.

  The toasts were drunk, the tables cleared, and Rachel danced with her men. First CJ, then Sam, then CJ again, then Sam since a three-way waltz wasn’t going to happen. During the last dance, when the other guests had joined them on the floor, Sam waltzed her out of the room and out of the hotel, ignoring her laughing protests. CJ waited outside in a brand-new white Range Rover. Sam lifted her in. She was right. Her men looked amazing in tuxedoes.

  “What’s this?”

  “Yours,” CJ said. “Our wedding present to you.”

  Rachel burst into tears, and Sam held her while CJ drove.

  They were home in a quarter-hour. This time CJ lifted her from the car and carried her over the threshold.

  “Now you’re ours for good,” he said.

  He didn’t stop but carried her upstairs to the bedroom. He kicked open the door and deposited her on the bed in a puddle of white satin.

  “This is where you belong, my beautiful wife,” he said softly. “Always. I love you so much.”

  She’d heard the words many times over the last seven days. They would never get old.

  Sam stood and stripped off his tux jacket. “Are you ready for this?” he said. “Do you want to do this now?”

  “Yes, oh yes!”

  Fresh tears stood in her eyes. The bonding would be even more permanent than their marriage, which in some ways had been just a prelude to this act. She could only sit and watch her men disrobe because she couldn’t get out of her gown on her own. The bodice was boned, molding her figure, and undoing the hooks at the back would have required either a pair of scissors or for her to be a contortionist. No way was she cutting herself out of this gorgeous gown.

  When they were naked, Sam and CJ prowled onto the bed, on either side of her, and began to unfasten her gown. They took care not to snag it, although CJ growled and said, “There are so many of these fucking things. Can’t I just pull them open?”

  “No! I want to keep this. Maybe our daughter will wear it one day.”

  His fingers shook when he undid the next hook, and he gave a muttered, “Shit.”

  Rachel giggled.

  Eventually they had the long line of hooks unfastened. She was wearing a thong and a pair of holdups underneath. Nothing else. She’d kicked off her heels when she’d landed on the bed.

  CJ groaned. Sam cupped a breast and went to work. Then it was Rachel’s turn to groan. She sighed when CJ joined his breed partner, sucking and licking her other breast until they were so sensitive she couldn’t bear it any more. She squirmed, dislodging them, and they kissed her, Sam working his way down her body. He pushed a finger into her then another. She was so wet he got three fingers into her before she felt tight.

  “Honey, if we’re going to bond, you have to take both of us at once.”

  CJ stopped. “Shit. I knew it, but fuck, I don’t know if I can.”

  “Aren’t I supposed to say that?” Rachel said then sighed as Sam worked his magic inside her cunt.

  He fluted his fingers then added another. “You got to be wide open.” He glanced at CJ. “Don’t be such a wuss. If she can do it, so can you. Man up.”

  CJ grinned reluctantly. “I guess. I love you so much, baby, I’ll make this sacrifice.”

  Rachel made a face. CJ laughed and kissed her.

  Slowly, Sam worked her wide open. She daren’t imagine how much, but she could do it. Even with men this well endowed, it was possible. More than anything else, she wanted the bond so they were true breedmates, never to part this side of death.

  She lay on her back and enjoyed Sam’s ministrations. CJ caught her clit between finger and thumb, pulling and tweaking, increasing her arousal, the heat burning her up, making her restless.

  “I need you. I want you.”

  “We need you too, baby,” CJ said. He lay next to her, murmuring words of endearment, that he loved her, that they would never be apart after tonight.

  She gave herself to them, let Sam work her until she was wide open and she could take them without hurting herself. The notion excited her beyond bearing, thrills running up her spine and blossoming through her.

  “So how do we do this?” CJ said eventually.

  Sam gave him a disgusted look. “How the fuck do I know? Do you think I go around doing this every day?” His voice softened when he spoke to Rachel. “We have to do it bareback, you know that?”

  “I’m on the pill,” she reminded them.

  �
�It might not be enough. You could get pregnant.”

  She snorted. “Like that would be a tragedy. I know we said we wanted to wait awhile, but if it happens, it happens.”

  CJ made a sound as if he was purring, partly in animal form, but he remained human. She could sense the wildness in her men, but she could also tell when they were turning tiger now.

  “If I lie here, and you kinda lie the other way, we can bring our cocks together, and Rachel can take us in her own time.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Accordingly, Sam lay on the bed the way CJ had suggested. Rachel laughed when he flinched as Sam gripped their cocks. He needed two hands to accomplish the task, but he held them firmly together and smiled at Rachel.

  “Come on, honey. Take us.”

  CJ whimpered, so unlike him. Rachel took her courage in both hands, eyeing the two cocks of the men she loved most in all the world. Their cockheads were wet with their fluid. She bent and swiped it off, first CJ, then Sam, making the men groan. Their flavors mingled in her mouth, so spicy and hot that she made an appreciative, “Mm.”

  She mounted them. That was the best word for it, climbing over their bodies. Sam and CJ had arranged their legs so CJ’s were draped over Sam’s, his knees raised. She could use his legs to lean on, but she wanted to see both of her men as she did this. She would have to tackle them side on, so to speak.

  She managed to get herself settled, kneeling, lowering her body as if she was aiming to squat on her heels. But their cocks were in the way. Their bodies met, and she groaned. Joyfully, she pushed.

  “Easy, baby,” CJ said.

  A little more. She kept bearing down, her cunt gradually accepting them. Love could achieve anything. So could she. They made her strong, her husbands.

  “Wait,” CJ said. He reached down and adjusted something, but she couldn’t see what. “Okay.”

  She carried on.

  Once she had the heads inside her, she knew she could do the rest. But they felt so good that she paused to savor the sensation. “I didn’t know it would feel so amazing. You’re pushing me, both of you, and you’re just at the level of my G-spot.” When she sank down farther, they grazed it, sending shivers through her. “Oh, that is fucking indescribable.”

  “Try,” Sam suggested, his voice tight.

  She slid down, the rest of their cocks entering her. When her pussy rested against their groins, Sam lifted his head and looked down at where they joined. “This is it, partners. I love you, honey.”

  “I love you too, both of you. So much.”

  Then she moved.

  She flung out her hands, finding theirs. Sam and CJ gripped her hands, supporting her while she began the rhythm that would take them all to ecstasy. Up and down, slowly at first, but as she sighed her way to joy, her body made more liquid, enough to slide out of her, bathing her husbands’ balls. After half a dozen strokes, Sam and CJ moved with her. Their first dance, their first act of mutual love.

  The last time, they’d declared their love after the act, and then Sam and CJ had sworn off her until they could do this. Now they would sleep in the same bed, share the same bathroom, forever.

  The thought sent her higher, and Rachel cried in joy. Each stroke urged her to greater heights, and she approached the crest she knew. Then someone touched her, fingers rubbing her clit, and she came, fountains of fireworks exploding in her head, taking her away from the world and into heaven.

  She watched her men come, first Sam, crying her name as he jerked and her body filled with his cum, then CJ, who made guttural cries, arching his back, pushing his cock even deeper inside her.

  Sweaty, messy, hopelessly in love, they fell together a heap, like a pile of puppies, panting out their love and their triumph.

  In a moment they would bathe together and share the champagne they’d put on ice that morning before they’d left for the hotel. But now, they cuddled and stroked and repeated their love for each other, over and over again.

  Rachel had found her home in these men. She would never be alone again.

  THE END

  WWW.EMASHCROFT.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Em is everywhere. She may be watching you right now!

  Em Ashcroft is a woman with myriad lovers and a ton of stories to tell. She is waited on hand and foot by her assistants. She lives on chocolate and champagne, flies first class all over the world, and dresses only from the best designers – when she dresses at all!

  Em is creativity personified. She loves history, art, and naughty, naughty sex. Sinful, beautiful and irresistible, she is everything she wants to be.

  Em has this thing about history. She spends a lot of time visiting old houses and old cities, and taking a bunch of photos. She uses all these in her books, and can’t stop researching. It’s an addiction, but not one that she regrets. She also loves travel, but she does that as much in her head as she does for real.

  Then she gets up from her desk and she becomes someone else entirely.

  Email her at: emashcroftauthor@gmail.com

  For all titles by Em Ashcroft, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/em-ashcroft

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

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