by Fel Fern
Their hard cocks pressed against her thigh and the curve of her ass. The startling sound of the fabric tearing as she arched her back and—
Familiar warmth pressed against her back. Warm breath tickled against the side of her ear. “Thinking of us, kitten?”
“London,” Charity squeaked, but he pressed a gentle finger to her lips, eyes looking at her appearance in the mirror with hungry approval. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You shouldn’t be here. The shop assistant could come back any time.”
“I told him that,” Ferus said grumpily, sliding inside the curtain.
“You, too?” Charity asked. “We’re definitely going to cause a scandal.”
“Didn’t I tell you a glimpse of our fine woman in such a dirty and sexy little number was worth the risk, Ferus?” London asked, still not letting Charity go and ignoring her comment.
Then again, Charity didn’t push away the arm that possessively banded around her waist, or the wandering hand pushing up the hem of her dress. She sighed against the hard press of his chest, her lioness mewing inside her with pleasure as it rubbed against his large dominant beast.
“You really think I look sexy in this dress?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Ferus agreed, eyes fastened on them, dark and hungry. Moisture flooded between her legs at the sight of Ferus’s naked want. London didn’t help one bit, when he moved his arm on her waist upward, pinching and tweaking at her left nipple through the dress until it arched and hardened. He grinded himself against her back, making her aware of his arousal through his tailored trousers.
“Feel that, baby? How easily you make me lose control?”
She bit in a moan that threatened to spill out of her lips. God.
“There’s our horny little kitten,” London whispered, tonguing her neck. “And I think naughty little cats ought to be punished.”
“Christ, London. We’re in the fucking ladies’ dressing room,” Ferus hissed, but he didn’t pull away, only lifted the curtain a bit to check if the coast remained clear.
“Ferus is right,” Charity said, twisting her neck to look at him, trying to control her breathing. “We can’t—”
He silenced her with a mind-numbing kiss, and she let him lift up the hem of her dress until the fabric rode above her hips. Excitement fluttered in her belly as she let herself be lost in the tangle of tongues, lips, and teeth. She let his probing tongue in, and sucked down, wanting more.
Charity liked the way he only used one hand to pin both her hands above her head and pressed her against the full-length mirror. From the corner, she spotted Ferus with his jeans unzipped, his hand moving up and down his thickening cock as he watched them.
“One last time, kitten. I won’t ask again. Will you let Ferus and me fuck you?” London asked after he parted from their mouth. “Claim you. Make you ours.”
His last few words made her shiver, and made her look at her reflection.
Charity no longer recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror. With her disheveled hair and her hands held above her head, she looked bewildered, even a little slutty. Her dress practically begging to be torn off, a powerful man behind her while another man watched at the corner. She felt a little wanton maybe, but also incredibly wild and free when she felt like a trapped bird all her life.
For the first time, too, it finally struck her that what existed between the three of them might not just be momentary lust or sheer insanity, but something else. Love perhaps? Lasting and consuming, if she wanted it, were the unspoken words London and Ferus didn’t have to say.
They didn’t need to when their bodies could perfectly convey meaning.
“Yes, take me,” she breathed, gasping when he turned her so her back touched the mirror. Keeping her hands restrained, London used his other to yank down her lace panties. Impatience made him growl and rip out the tiny fabric.
She touched his arm. “Hold on a second, mister. Those were new.”
“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to buy you new ones, kitten.” He fingered her pussy, smug little smile on his lips when she impatiently thrust her mound at him. “So fucking wet.”
“Are you going to fuck me, or tease me?” she demanded.
“Both, love. Both. First, Ferus wants to hear you come.”
He lowered his head, mouth closing on one of her hardened buds, sucking hard. Charity bit down her tongue, groaning as he lavished the same attentions to the other. He slid two fingers into her drenched cunt, beginning to pump, while keeping his thumb circling over her clit.
“Fuck it, London. I’m going to come even before you fuck her.” Ferus groaned.
“Our poor Ferus. Shall we indulge him, kitten?” London asked, lifting his mouth from her tits.
“Let go of me,” Charity said. Uncertainty crossed his handsome features, reminding her painfully of how much she could easily hurt him. Before he could misinterpret, she added. “I’ve a better position in mind.”
He looked relieved. “Your leg?”
“We both know it’s healed up long ago.” He released her. When he caught her looking at the curtain, he smirked. “What?”
“Don’t worry. They won’t come until we’re done.”
“You should have told us that earlier!” both Charity and Ferus said at the same time.
“Well, where’s the fun in that? Now weren’t you going to get into position, kitten?” London asked.
Charity offered a hand out to Ferus, inviting him to join them. Warmth filled her when he lifted her hand and gave it a kiss before she went on her hands and knees. Instantly, she felt London’s hand palming her ass.
“Oh, I agree this is much better.”
“I have to ask you to kindly shut up, alpha, or she might change her mind,” Ferus reminded him.
Little chances of that happening. Her lioness twitched impatiently inside her, and she was drenched and horny as hell. The two wolves better not back out from their promise, intruding on her like that. Charity reached out for Ferus’s ready shaft, closing her fingers over his base and applying a little pressure like she knew he liked.
Her tongue darted out, licking away the pre-cum at his tip. Ferus groaned above her just as she felt London’s hands parting her legs, teasingly pressing his cockhead to her slit. Didn’t help his hand reached down to circle her clit, sending jolts of pleasure to her tits and pussy.
Ferus wound his fingers into her hair impatiently, and Charity finally closed her mouth over his throbbing prick. He sighed above her, as she applied careful suction with every inch she covered until he hit the back of her throat. London chose that moment to grip her hips and sink mercilessly into her cunt hilt deep.
Charity remembered to breathe in around Ferus’s cock. She clenched and unclenched the muscles of her pussy, but London didn’t move at first. Just remained there, buried in her, filling her completely and staking his claim that only he and Ferus could breach her. She shuddered around him. Remembering Ferus, she drew off him, before diving back.
“Fuck.” Ferus grunted, tightening his grip on her hair. The pain sent a delicious thrill through her, adding another layer to the pressure building inside her. Behind her, London began to move, thrusting in and out of her with deep and steady rhythms.
Charity let Ferus take control, but he was careful about thrusting into her waiting mouth. Several thrusts were enough to send him over the edge. Not wanting to soil her still-unpaid dress, Charity swallowed every drop of his load.
“Thank you,” he said, dropping to the ground, letting Charity rest her head against his thigh while London reached his peak behind her. His gentle fingers stroked her hair and her face, a lovely contrast to London roughly riding her from behind.
“Come for us, baby,” London said with panting breaths, before pinching her clit as he slid inside her.
Her entire body trembled, unthinkingly obeying his command. Waves of pleasure assailed her, but Ferus and London held her steady. Not long after, London came after two quick thrusts, his warm cum
filling her. Charity contentedly lay in Ferus’s lap for a while, aware London had recovered and had magically produced wet wipes from god knew where.
She squinted at London’s handsome profile suspiciously. Even Ferus’s gentle kiss on her forehead couldn’t dissuade her. “How long have you been planning this?”
“Me? Why, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, love. Whatever made you think otherwise? If I had any say in the matter, I would’ve done this somewhere nicer.”
Love. Damn. Every time London called her that, it made her feel all warm and embarrassed inside like some blushing teenager.
Ferus snorted.
London gave Ferus a contemplative look. “Maybe not. Do you know how easily you drive us crazy when you’re around?”
“Flatterer,” Charity threw back. When London looked back at her steadily, his gaze uncommonly serious and heavy, she understood he hadn’t been joking.
“I’m not joking, kitten. You can’t imagine how often you test the limits of my self-control. When I hear the sound of your laughter downstairs in the gardens, or whenever you enter the room, I want to shove you against the wall and just fuck you. That’s how much I want you.”
London joined them on the floor. Cheeks still flushed, Charity let him take her from Ferus’s lap.
“Sorry. I’m still not used to any man saying those words to me,” she whispered.
“Those assholes didn’t know what kind of gift landed on their laps.”
He pressed her face into his shoulder, and she snuggled contentedly against him while he stroked her back, not caring she did feel like a spoiled kitten.
His kisses to the side of her jaw began soft and feathery, losing finesse when his mouth felt like tongues of fire licking and sucking down the side of her neck. Charity sighed and leaned into him like a needy small animal in heat, encouraging him, pressing his head to her skin.
“Fuck, baby. You look unbelievably hot,” Ferus murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek.
Tenderness lit his eyes, along with vulnerability and the fear she still wielded the power to reject what London and he had come to love. She’d come to love both men terribly, too. Charity just had to show Ferus by action, by the permanent and lasting choices she was about to make. The chains of the past were done holding her down. Only the future mattered.
“You doing okay?” Ferus whispered. Charity caught the plea in his voice. Are you sure? his gaze seemed to say, even though his wolf continued rubbing itself against her lioness and London’s wolf with familiar affection. No backing out after you set yourself on this road.
“Yes,” she responded, aware she sounded slightly drunk, but Charity felt fully in control. “I’m sure.”
She realized it was true. Charity didn’t mind the slight edge of London’s teeth, only tightened her grip against his shoulders. No alarm bells rang in her head as they would have not long ago. Charity knew what came next, but no hesitation or self-doubt lingered in her head. Inside her, her lioness eagerly watched London’s enormous, ferocious, and faultlessly loyal wolf approach.
“Good answer,” London said.
Before she could answer, he bit down, his canines sinking deep into the side of her neck as he gave her his mating mark. A bite more binding than any mortal marriage contract, and one that would tell the world she belonged to him as much as he belonged to her. Pain flared, but only briefly as he began kissing and sucking at the wound, apologizing for the rough treatment.
“Just one more, love,” he whispered against her ear.
Charity felt herself nod, and London handed her over to Ferus carefully, gently, as if she were a delicate treasure. By the time Ferus finished placing his mating mark on the other side of her neck, London had, miraculously procured a medical first-aid kit from somewhere. Both men treated the fresh bites, not speaking until they taped the last bandages.
“How are you feeling, Charity? Light-headed?” Ferus asked, rubbing her wrist worriedly.
He looked surprised when she kissed his cheek. “I’m seriously fine. I’ve healed from worse injuries than a few bites. Besides, don’t you think it’s about time we stopped hogging the dressing room?”
Ferus and London traded worried looks, but eventually conceded.
“I’ll be out soon, if you two gentlemen can wait outside,” Charity said, relieved when they left.
Charity returned the dress to the hanger, smoothing the wrinkles as best as she could. No hope for that dress now. Her gaze lingered to her neatly bandaged neck, knowing full well the implications of London and Ferus’s actions.
By making her their mate, they risked so much by throwing aside decades of warring politics and Scavos laws. Mating a shifter from another breed might be frowned upon, but mating a shifter from an enemy house was unheard of. Charity breathed hard and steadied herself. If Ferus and London would go this far for her, then she simply had to prove she was worthy of being their mate.
She was about to haul up her jeans, when she caught sight of two visitors behind her. Not London and Ferus. Unwelcome visitors. Two slender and beautiful green-eyed women with fairy-tale blonde hair, and both of them moved with a strange predatory grace much different from the way werewolves moved. Feline. No one could deny the family resemblance, either.
She instinctively dropped to fighting stance. Standing beside Ragan, Risa laughed, the sound low and ugly.
“We can kill you before you manage to hit a blow, sister,” Ris sneered. Ragan stepped between the both of them and placed a hand on Risa’s shoulder.
“We’re not here to fight, Risa,” Ragan reminded her.
Charity couldn’t read her older sister’s expression. Risa always wanted to see her dead. She hardly gave a fuck. But Ragan had been her sole ally growing up. The only sister who’d resisted Raquel’s orders when he gave Charity her suicidal mission.
“I thought we lost you,” Ragan told her. No customary hugs or touches, Ragan kept her distance like she would with an enemy, wary and careful. It hurt a little, but Charity guessed there was no helping it.
“Well I’m alive. Not that its much of a consolation to father, is it? Disappointed his defect is still alive?” Charity asked, back hitting against the mirror, her heart thumping painfully against her chest.
How the hell did Ragan and Risa get past London and Ferus? God forbid, did they hurt her two wolves? Charity did her best to school her face and composure. It looked like her sisters weren’t here to kill her. Not yet anyway.
“Oh yeah. Imagine our shock when we learned that our traitorous defect had fallen even lower, becoming a wolf’s bitch instead. Didn’t know you were that desperate, Charity,” Risa pointed out.
Charity snarled. “You don’t know a single damn thing about my relationship. Besides, London is ten times more honorable than any asshole lion I’ve known who only wanted to mate with me out of sick pity and curiosity.”
“You’re dead, Charity. Traitors deserve to die.”
“Well, no small loss, really,” Charity said bitterly. “You know the sad thing is, even while I was his captive, London and his wolves treated me much better than my own fucking flesh and blood ever did.”
“You bitch, after all father and the family did—”
“Shut up for a second, Risa,” Ragan hissed, gaze on Charity. “Then explain. Make us understand. You mentioned you were House Scavos’s prisoner. What are you now?”
“Charity is my mate,” added a new voice. It was London, leaning casually outside the dressing room, arms crossed. Ferus stood beside him, growling, unfriendly gaze on Ragan and Risa.
Risa glowered at them, but Ragan gripped her arm in warning and narrowed her gaze at London. “Liar. You did something to Charity. Brainwashed her, maybe with some kind of—”
“It’s true,” Charity interrupted. “No one brainwashed me, or forced me. I agreed to become their mate.”
Ragan’s eyes widened when she finally caught sight of her bandaged neck. It crushed her to see the strong sister she’d always admired
, looked like she just swallowed a silver bullet. Even worse, to see Ragan’s entire body stiffen. Her tightened jaw and the cold and unforgiving look that settled in her eyes were damning.
“I see,” Ragan said, her tone unreadable. Just two simple condemning words were enough for Charity’s determined wall to start crumbling.
“Ragan, listen,” Charity began, but Ragan raised a hand.
Resigned, she gave up trying to explain. Ragan couldn’t and would never comprehend how Charity could simply toss aside her beliefs, or the decades of hate harbored by House Vivaldi against the Scavos wolves.
“No further words are needed.” Ragan turned her back on Charity to address London. “There is no need for further blood to be drawn today.”
“I agree,” London said. “This exchange never happened.”
“Even better.”
Charity slumped against the mirror, feeling completely defeated. When she opened her eyes, she saw Risa’s gaze never left hers. She shivered. Risa didn’t lick her lips, didn’t resort to any of her usual taunts, simply just looked at her like a predator eyeing her intended prey.
Something more intense than the usual dose of hate and contempt lingered in Risa’s gaze. Blind murderous rage, maybe. For the first time, it struck Charity that Risa really wanted to see her dead. Charity might have little affection for Risa, but not to the extent she wanted to send her own flesh and blood to her grave.
“Come, Risa. Our business is done here,” Ragan said.
Risa nodded curtly and followed Ragan out. Charity didn’t know what hurt more. The fact Ragan didn’t turn to give her a final good-bye, or the fact Risa shot her a warning glance that told her she wasn’t intending to let Charity enjoy her newfound freedom and future.
Charity blinked when Ferus gripped her shoulders.
“Fuck them. They can’t hurt you.”
“They already did,” Charity whispered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret choosing this path, and I knew the consequences of my actions, but I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”
“It’s okay, kitten. We know.” London kissed the side of her cheek. “Come on. Let’s get you home. Make you those vanilla milkshakes you love. Tuck you in bed, hmm?”
