by Zoey Marcel
“You don’t have to cook on your first night here,” Mark objected. “Besides, there was a note on the fridge saying that Quinn was going to pick up a couple of pizzas or something.”
“Oh, that sounds good.”
Jack sat next to her on the barstool while they drank their hot cocoa. He started talking about the ranch, their horses, and so on and placed his hand nonchalantly on her thigh. Morrigan stiffened, trying not to groan from the intimate contact. She wasn’t sure if this was another one of his random traits, or if the touch was suggestive. The searing heat from his palm burned through her jeans and sizzled against her skin. The squeeze nearly undid her.
Mark’s eyes darkened when he noticed her slight jolt. His eyes said he knew what was going on. His expression sent a silent admonition to Jack that seemed to advise him to take it slow, but the molten heat in his gaze appeared to suggest that he approved of the steady seduction.
“Have you ever been with two men at once?” Jack asked in a heated murmur.
Morrigan thought for sure she hadn’t heard him right. “Huh?”
Mark rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mark. You’ve been in threesomes before.”
“Yeah, I did once with two women. That’s a lot different than what you’re talking about.”
Jack’s dark eyes were taunting him. “Do I need to remind you about that ménage à quatre we had with that couple when we lived in Klamath Falls?”
“I know, I remember. That was really hot, but I’m in no hurry to rub against you again in the name of sharing a woman.”
“Quinn and Damon would probably go for it if I talked them into it.”
“Yeah, Quinn and Damon are gay and just fine with rubbing against another man’s junk.”
Jack’s lips curled into a naughty smile. “The focus would be on her, not us.”
“I’m pretty sure I would be traumatized for life if I had to see you naked a second time.”
“Third.”
Morrigan became curious. “Third?”
Mark glared at him. “He had sex with a woman in front of me before.”
“Why?”
“He thought I was gay. I had to prove him wrong,” Jack explained.
Morrigan giggled. “Wow. Those are some extreme measures you take there, Jack. You don’t have to convince me you’re not gay.”
“I would rather show you.”
Why was her cunt throbbing so hard?
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Um, no, I haven’t ever done that.” But I’ve loved two men at once. She didn’t say this. She couldn’t. It sounded so childish and shallow, but she had loved both with all her heart.
“You’ll have to excuse Jack. He comes on kind of strong sometimes. You’re our guest. We want you to feel at home, not uncomfortable,” Mark said.
“Thanks.”
The front door unlocked and someone came in. “Pizza’s here. Damon, you’d better be naked and collared like I told you to be, or your ass is grass. Oops, I didn’t know we had company.”
“This is Morrigan.” Mark introduced them. He nodded toward this new man who came around into the kitchen. “Quinn, my brother.”
Like Mark’s, Quinn’s smile proved charming. His hair was a much lighter shade of brown and had more volume. It was swept back slightly but looked long enough to flop forward without gel, though it wasn’t shaggy like Jack’s. He had tiny stubble from the beard and mustache which had been shaved and were coming back in.
His eyes were hazel with a warmth and sincerity that said he could be as much of a lover as a fighter if given a strong enough reason to care. He wore a charcoal-gray suit and towered over her at probably around six feet.
“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to arrest him for brawling and causing trouble,” Mark told her.
Quinn wore a shameless grin as he set the unbaked pizzas on the counter and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge. “Now, Mark, you can’t really expect a man to behave himself in Temptation. This town was made for people up to no good.”
Morrigan became intrigued. “Really?”
“Yes, it was founded by our perverse forefathers,” Jack added.
“Your ancestors started this town?”
“Not my forefathers, but somebody’s forefathers. It was a long time ago. They wanted a place where people could live their wayward lifestyles without being judged.”
Quinn shot a look of feigned annoyance over at Mark. “Or arrested.”
“There has to be some sort of law and order, otherwise this place would turn into the Wild West all over again,” Mark defended.
“It’s hard to picture people from another era starting a town for wayward lifestyles,” Morrigan said half to herself.
“It used to be a lot racier. There were nudists and people having sex in the street,” Mark said.
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah, they’ve toned it down quite a bit since the olden days so people could raise kids here if they wanted to. All the public sex and nudity has been confined to the club. There’s even a fenced-in courtyard out back for all the freaks who like to get naked and do it outside.”
Quinn smirked. “But we don’t know anybody like that, do we, Mark?”
Mark blushed. “It was one time. No one was around.”
“Well, obviously someone was,” Jack joined in.
Mark looked at Morrigan with an annoyed smile. “Do you see what I have to put up with?”
Quinn patted his brother on the back. “It’s because we love you that we embarrass the hell out of you. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Morrigan. Once the pizza’s done, you guys can start without us.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Mark asked.
Quinn smiled. “I will, but I’ve got a slave to make happy first.”
Chapter Two:
Mates
Quinn’s cock started to rise in his pants at the thought of Damon waiting nude for him in a submissive pose, collared and ready for whatever his master would give him. He opened the door quietly, stifling any wanton sounds that threatened to emerge and betray his hunger at seeing his mate this way. Somehow it made it all worthwhile.
“Good evening, master,” Damon greeted him. His mellow tone may have been respectful, but the way his hard-on leaped to attention when Quinn entered was flattering and had him salivating for contact.
“Good evening, slave. Were you a good boy today?”
“No, sir, I was wicked.”
“What did you do?”
“I peed on your tomato plant.”
Quinn was caught between humor and confusion. “It’s winter. I don’t have a tomato plant.”
“In my head you did and I pissed all over it, laughing the whole time.”
He tried not to chuckle. Damon could always chase away the stress of any work day by making him laugh. “Well, now, that was very spiteful and rank of you. Still, I suppose I could forgive you this time.”
“No,” his slave spouted quickly. “I will only do it again, or maybe next time I’ll turd on your potato crop.”
Quinn grinned and removed his coat and tie. “Good for the soil.”
“Not if I uproot the seeds and set off fireworks in your cornfield.”
“Naughty boy. Why so much violence directed at my garden?”
“I’m a vegetable saboteur and I need to be punished.”
He laughed. Now his sub was getting desperate. Damon loved being disciplined. “You would deny your master the fruits of his labor?”
“Yes, sir.” His breath hitched when Quinn draped the tie around his neck and gave it a rough tug, so his face was smashed against his tented pants.
“I should make you suck me off. Debase that rebellious, rampant mouth of yours. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
Damon moaned, going for Quinn’s fly, but he smacked the eager man’s hand away.
“For all I know you would bite it just to be an ass. Maybe
you need yours beat.”
Damon fought with the smile of approval creeping over his face. “If you think it would help.”
“It couldn’t hurt.” Quinn unbuttoned his white shirt, his dick growing tighter at the brazen expression of hunger and need on his slave’s face. “Stand by the bed and place your hands on it. Spread your legs slightly.”
He was quick to obey.
The sight of his perky, smooth ass called to Quinn like a tantalizing steak waiting to be devoured. He chose the cane this time and smiled when he saw Damon’s boner ride a little higher toward his belly.
“I trusted you, slave. All you had to do was tend the damned crops, not destroy them. What kind of wicked slave are you?” He swung the cane in the air close to Damon’s ass without hitting it, enjoying the harsh swooshes it made. What a lovely, ominous sound to his sub’s ears it must be.
“The worst kind, sir.”
“I’m beginning to see that. It’s time for an ass whooping, my friend, or should I say, vegetable murderer.”
Damon laughed, but the sound evolved into a cry of pleasured suffering when the cane hit his backside with a nasty thud.
“Not laughing now, are you, traitor?”
“My people will avenge me.” He wailed at the next blow. There were no tears in his eyes, just a delicious sound of misery that was music to Quinn’s ears.
“Yes, your people, the vegetation you defaced in my garden. There is no afterlife for damaged crops. You’re on your own, slave, and completely at my mercy, which I seemed to have misplaced somewhere at the moment.” Quinn struck him harder, feeling the hunter in him surfacing. He loved this as much as his mate did.
Damon choked on his outcries as his master continued to punish his fanny. “I am no man’s slave.”
“Huh, isn’t that funny? And here you are stripped naked in my household taking a beating like the worthless trash you are, yet you have the gall to act like royalty.”
“I am. I’m heir to the throne.”
Quinn smirked. Well, that was different. “Oh, and what might your name be, rich boy?”
“Prince Awesome.”
They snickered until he whacked his sub’s ass a good one again. “Well, Prince Awesome, I’ve heard of you. I didn’t recognize you at first. They say you were recently betrothed. I wonder what she would say if she knew you were being beaten by a man and getting hard from it.”
Damon let out a long, dragged-out gasp. “How dare you!”
Quinn set the cane aside and leaned over him so his erection was nestled against his crack. Damon mewled when he wrapped his palm around his cock. “It feels pretty stiff to me. I think you want me.”
“No.”
Quinn buried his nose in his lover’s dark-blond hair. It felt soft and smelled clean and familiar, like home. His mate. He ran his fingers lightly over the solid rod of velvet jutting out from between the other man’s thighs. It was amazing. His loins heated from Damon’s breathless gasp when his thumb traced the head, smearing his pre-cum. The noise was somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
“Either your cock is crying like a little baby, or that’s pre-cum on it. Do you want me, slave?”
“No.” Damon cried out with bliss when Quinn began to stroke his erection and play with his balls.
“Liar, I can feel you swelling in my hand. God, you’re hung. I like men. Did you know that, slave?”
Damon struggled weakly and Quinn held him in place, feeling his wolf fighting for reign of his body. Holding his lover still so he could execute his will on him felt a lot like hunting and holding down struggling prey. It was driving him crazy.
“They say you’re a virgin. Should I take that away from you?” he asked in a heated whisper against his slave’s ear.
Damon shivered, mouth gaping. “I would rather die. I’m saving myself for my betrothed.”
Quinn kissed his neck, licking the treasured skin there. “But I want you and you want me. She doesn’t get a say in this. You’re mine.”
Damon pretended to fight him off while Quinn shackled his wrists to hooks in the headboard, forcing him to lie on his stomach with his delectable butt exposed. “You can’t do this!”
“I can and I will. Look at this fine ass. You were really going to leave it untouched and unexplored by a willing cock? Shame on you.”
Damon shrieked with elation when Quinn stuck a finger up his ass and rubbed his prostate. “Oh god, no!”
“Oh, yes. You’ve had this coming for a long time.” Quinn stood and removed his clothes before getting the tube of lube.
Damon licked his lips, eying his package with obvious anticipation.
“That’s right, lust after me, you queer.”
“You son of a bitch, I won’t like it.”
Quinn climbed onto the bed between his legs. “Yes, you will. I have a way with men. Now fuck my fingers, little man.”
Damon panted while Quinn worked the lube into his anus and stretched him with his digits. “You will pay for this.”
He slapped his butt cheek, making his lover yelp in surprise. His backside had luscious welts and bruises that stoked the fires of his libido as much as Damon had probably enjoyed receiving them. “The only one who will pay is you with your innocence and your life if you don’t shut up and give in to your darker nature.”
Quinn felt pre-cum gathering in his slit as he parted Damon’s cheeks and slowly worked his dick into the tight hole. Both men grunted at the impatient tunneling and groaned when he was seated to the hilt inside the hot, dark chamber.
“I’m ruined.”
“Yeah, you are. Lift your hips.”
Damon remained on his elbows but let Quinn guide his hips upward so his ass was raised for the deep thrusting he planned on doing. He gave several mighty plunges that provoked the man’s sweet spot into a state of sexual frenzy.
Damon went ballistic with ecstasy when he jerked his cock toward the finish line. His hole kept contracting and squeezing Quinn’s member in anticipation of the building climax. It was perfect and decadent. Neither one lasted long, since they were too worked up.
“Forget your arranged marriage. You and I are forming a much stronger alliance.” Quinn’s canines dropped and he sank them into Damon’s mating mark.
Damon howled with pleasure and came all over the comforter beneath him. His ass clamped down on Quinn’s appendage with such voracity he had no choice but to come too. He spilled his hot release into his ass, enjoying the sweltering embrace around his cock.
They lay there breathing hard as their spent bodies went limp.
“Wow.”
“Wow, indeed.” Quinn withdrew and unchained his partner, pulling him into his arms.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, baby.” He could play these games with Damon and bring him the pain and pleasure he craved, but Quinn wasn’t so sure if he could be the one on his knees or receiving the punishment. He liked to take charge of his lover’s pain and pleasure, but the thought of giving up that control did nothing to arouse him. It only irritated him with memories of a past he had no say in. If Damon had wished to be in control Quinn might have relinquished it, but his mate had no desire to be in charge. He was the perfect man for him.
Unfortunately, Quinn had known more than one man in his life after he was sold into slavery. A few of the men’s wives had used him as well, but it was mostly the greedy men who couldn’t keep their damned hands to themselves.
He found that most men were assholes. Many were average and on occasion there were a few good ones like his friend, Jack, and his brother, Mark, but there was no one like Damon. That was saying a lot considering Quinn had been around for centuries. People had used and abused him until one day he had enough and killed his violent master.
He went into hiding until he could leave Italy. Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing, that is, except for the naked stranger standing in chains on the auction block while he was passing through. There were others he could have saved, but s
omething told him to save this young man. Quinn took one look at the human and saw himself, or maybe something greater. He wasn’t sure. He only knew the man deserved more than he had been given. He deserved to be free and happy. Quinn won the bidding for him and set Damon free, but the man refused to leave his side and insisted that he was his servant for life.
They became good friends and he traveled with Quinn when he went back to England to reunite with his first love, Morrigan. She wasn’t there when he got there. His brother had left England as well, but no one knew where he went. Morrigan’s parents told him she went to the Holy Land where he had supposedly died in the Crusades.
In Jerusalem, he found the convent she was said to have joined but learned from the nuns that Morrigan had been brutally raped and murdered by an evil wizard. They told him where she was buried and he stood at her grave in desolation. Damon had approached and Quinn fell into his arms on the ground and cried on his shoulder.
He spent days locked in a tavern room in a constant drunken state until he finally decided to go to a silversmith and have a silver bullet made so he could kill himself. Damon found out and knocked his master unconscious. Quinn woke up tied to a bed and cussed him out for interfering.
Damon refused to let him free until he swore upon everything holy that he wouldn’t ever attempt to take his own life or get himself killed again.
The first time they touched was during one of Quinn’s drunken mourning sessions. He knew Damon idolized him and it perplexed him that he was so attracted and drawn to him. He hadn’t enjoyed the ravishing and abuse from the other men who had taken him, but for some reason he wanted Damon, even as he needed to stay away.
His scent got under his skin and Quinn’s compassion for him had turned into a pure level of caring that set their friendship on fire. He knew Damon was his mate. Knew it down to his bones, and it baffled him, because Morrigan was the only woman he had ever loved, but he’d known she wasn’t his predestined mate. He hadn’t cared. He was in love with her, so he wanted to marry her anyway and figured he would never meet his real mate when he was so lost in her.
Then along came Damon—smart, funny, loyal, and boyishly handsome Damon. Women swooned over him and men who were so inclined probably fantasized about him.
