Marcel, Zoey - Wrestling with Temptation [Temptation, Wyoming 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Zoey Marcel

  Quinn had been inebriated, but there was some thread of awareness inside of him that knew what he was doing even as he lost more control than he ever had up to that point in his life.

  Damon had trembled when Quinn touched his lips with his own. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you what you want.”

  “I don’t want charity. I just want to serve you.” The desire in his pale-blue eyes gave away his yearning for his master.

  Quinn knew he wanted him, but Damon was cautious and seemed convinced that Quinn would never truly love him, from what Quinn sensed of the other man. “So serve me.”

  “You are drunk. You don’t even know what you are doing. In the morning you will hate yourself and me for doing this. I don’t need that kind of pain.”

  Quinn had lost it and hurled him toward a chair, but the poor man lost balance and stumbled over it, landing on the wood floor. “Why the hell do I keep thinking about you when I’m supposed to be in mourning over her?”

  Damon looked surprised, hopeful, and sympathetic all at the same time. “You have been mourning her.”

  “Would I even want you if they hadn’t raped the desire for men into me?”

  He’d looked hurt. “I don’t know.”

  “And you, you’re a virgin and you want me when you can be out there taking any woman you want. What is your problem? They didn’t make you a sodomite, so why do you choose to be?”

  Damon’s pretty eyes had lowered while he remained seated on the floor. “I don’t choose to be. If I could be normal I would. It would hurt a lot less and I wouldn’t feel like such an outcast in society, but I cannot help my feelings for you. I’m sorry if that sickens you. I have tried not to say anything.”

  Quinn had smirked, trying to blink back the haze clouding his eyes. “You didn’t have to. You always look at me with those puppy eyes and do my bidding no matter how demanding it is. You would lick my feet if I told you to.”

  Damon’s eyes had closed in misery. “I can go if that would please you.”

  “Stay where you are. You are human. You are not bound to lycan impulses, so why do you want me so badly? Just take what you want. The others did.”

  “That is not what I want.”

  “What then?”

  He hadn’t answered.

  “You are pure, good, and innocent. You should be with someone who is untouched, not a soiled, worthless piece of shit.” Quinn had kicked the woodpile near the fireplace, cursing the names of his users and the faces of the ones who never even gave him their names.

  “Master, you deserve peace.”

  “So you feel sorry for me?”

  “No, I mean I do, but that is not why I love you.” His eyes had widened and he dropped his head in humiliation. “Want. That is not why I want you. I will leave you now.”

  Quinn had approached him as he stood. “No, you won’t.”

  “Please, sir. You don’t really want to do this.”

  “Like hell I don’t.” Quinn had jerked him into a hard, passionate kiss. To this day he remembered that kiss. It was warm, tender, and electric. Everything a first kiss between lovers should be.

  Damon’s body had quivered with shock and desire when he broke the kiss. “You are depressed and seeking consolation. You wish it was her instead of me.”

  Quinn’s eyes had turned and his fangs lowered. “I never claimed her. I could have, but I didn’t.”

  “And you regret that. You will regret this.” His pale eyes were misty. “Quinn, no!”

  He’d grabbed Damon and sank his teeth into the place where his neck and shoulder met. They fell to the floor together with Quinn still latched onto his flesh. His rigid stalk hardened even more at the taste of his mate’s skin and the warmth of his sweet blood. He couldn’t wait to take him and see how pretty his mark would look on him there.

  Damon had sobbed with pain and then pleasure as he was claimed. Quinn had felt him coming under his tunic at the binding contact. When he pulled back, they gazed into each other’s eyes for a minute before Quinn took him to his bed and made love to him.

  He came back to the present as he cuddled with his mate in their bed. They had come a long way together. The bite eventually turned Damon into a white werewolf, ensuring their extended life together.

  They shared a sweet kiss, cleaned up the semen, and got their clothes as they headed into the shower together.

  “The hot water probably stings on your ass, huh?” Quinn asked. “I got a little carried away with the cane.”

  “No, it feels good,” Damon groaned, standing so his rump was punished by the angry jets. “Who is that woman I saw earlier, Mark’s newest girlfriend?”

  “I don’t think so. Jack was drooling over her and groping her.” He soaped up his lover’s chest. “I think maybe she’s his.”

  “Really? Jack’s not a commitment-minded man. He’s all about the flings and solitude.”

  “People can change, I guess. Maybe she’s only here for the night. Did you think she was cute?”

  Damon blushed. “No.”

  “Oh my god, you did, didn’t you? I can count the number of women you’ve actually cast a second glance at over the years on one hand. You know it’s okay.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. Her scandalized gasp when she saw me waiting for you was kind of funny.”

  Quinn laughed. “Oh, I wish I could have seen that. She was pretty cute and hot.”

  “Not as hot as me, right?”

  “Baby, nobody’s as hot as you except for me. Now let’s get cleaned up before they eat all the pizza. You know what a greedy pig Jack can be.”

  Damon grinned. “Yep, that’s our aggressive, bizarre alpha for you. I hope he doesn’t scare the poor girl off if he likes her so much.”

  “He won’t. If anything, she’ll probably think he’s a nut with the way he acts, but some women find that adorable.”

  “It’s funny, but I prefer people who are more—”

  “Sane?”

  “I was going to say down to earth, but that works, too.”

  “Well, they say madness is genius. If that’s true then our Jack is a fucking Einstein.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, the others were already up and about by the time Morrigan woke up. Mark had to work and Quinn was gone, too, since today was Friday and he was apparently a teacher at a college in Jackson Hole.

  The air felt insanely cold that day, hovering mostly in the twenties, but Jack kept a fire going to warm them and the house was well insulated, though walking barefoot on a winter day proved a bad idea, she quickly discovered, and she had to wear her thick, fuzzy, pink socks to keep her toes warm.

  The high was thirty-three degrees and the snow started to melt some with a tiny bit of rain, but they assured her the temperature would drop exponentially again come nightfall and the snow wouldn’t go away without a hell of a fight. It was a battle the snow was destined to win during the winter months here, but it made for a glorious victor as it painted the landscape in white.

  The icicles hanging from the roof outside were melting, but they twinkled like prisms in the sunlight, casting their rainbow magic against the coaxing winter light of morning.

  Jack and Damon gave her a tour of the ranch while they fed the horses and cleaned their stalls. The stable looked like a rancher’s vision with high ceilings, tidy and spacious with plenty of stalls of stately equines. The horses’ coats were fuzzy in answer to winter’s call, but with the temperature being what it was lately, the guys had the steeds wearing their blankets for added protection against the frigid Wyoming nights.

  She felt a bit like an Eskimo bundled in all the layers of clothes she was wearing. She may be a guest, or a maid, or whatever it was they expected of her, but she was by no means going to just stand there and look pretty while they worked.

  Jack treated her like the guest she was but didn’t seem to have a problem putting her to work when she offered. There was something fulfilling and meaningful about workin
g alongside them. It wasn’t like they were doing anything of great importance. They weren’t teaching the next generation at a school or solving world hunger, but they were feeding their animals and taking care of the place that belonged to them, and it left her feeling satisfied and with a purpose, however small.

  After the chores were done, Damon started building another snowman next to the existing one, which Morrigan found especially cute.

  “Are you making him a snow woman?”

  He smiled. “Nope, this is a gay snowman.”

  She laughed. “Well, okay then. Let me help you.”

  Jack watched them with a perverted smile and rolled a big boulder of snow along the ground. “I’m making a woman for them to share. It will be a decadent triad of snow devils.”

  Morrigan chewed her lower lip with a grin, feeling the flush in her cheeks. “Do you know how depraved we all sound, thinking dirty over a bunch of snow?”

  They chuckled and built up their icy minions. Damon placed a newsboy cap and scarf around his. “These are Quinn’s.”

  “He won’t mind if you use them?”

  He grinned mischievously. “He might.”

  “He looks very handsome and distinguished.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I meant the snowman, but Quinn is good, too.”

  Jack dusted the snow off his gloves and examined his snow lady. “Well, what do you think?”

  She was a fine specimen of invention, with the end of an old mop being utilized for her hair and stones for her eyes. She had two snowballs attached to her chest with tiny rocks imbedded in them.

  Damon grinned. “Oh my god, you actually made snow titties.”

  Morrigan giggled. “Is she also a nag? Why is her mouth open like she’s screaming?”

  “She is, but not with rage. Her mouth is a perfect O because she’s captivated by her two snowmen. Her nipples are literally pebbled with arousal.” Jack’s dark eyes flickered with carnality.

  She felt her panties dampening at his lascivious gaze and her nipples beaded over his lewd words. He didn’t seem to believe in being subliminal.

  Damon shook his head. “Congratulations, Jack, you’ve got the subtlety of a charging, snorting bull.”

  Jack’s lips curved upward into a devilish grin that shattered her resistance to his wiles. She wanted him, but she needed to behave herself. It wasn’t wise or moral to sleep with someone who could transform into a soulless carnivore whenever he wanted to. But Jack wasn’t soulless, at least not in his human form. He was beautiful and fascinating even with all of his random strangeness.

  They went inside and warmed themselves by the fire afterward and she made homemade stew for dinner. She would make muffins from scratch and a salad to go with it once it was closer to time.

  She cleaned the house for them, did some laundry, and unpacked her suitcase in the room she was staying in. It was a quaint, charming room. The walls were made of pine and the log bed was built into the wall. A fabulous quilt adorned the bed. It was splashed with a host of reds, blues, and greens—all winter colors and had moose, bears, wolves, and trout on it. She loved the woodsy feel of the room.

  The lamp on the nightstand was an adorable carving of a black bear waving to her with a friendly smile beneath the lampshade. For some reason the little cutie compelled her to wave back at him.

  The window offered a nice view of the backyard. There were plenty of pine trees on the premises laced with snow at the moment. A woodpile sat beneath the overhang of a shed, logs chopped and stacked neatly and ready to go to their fiery deaths once the time came to lay down their lives for the greater good of others.

  Morrigan found she enjoyed cooking for them and secretly pretended they were her family and she was making a meal for them. Then she fantasized that they were her men and they all lived there together. She felt guilty for it and pushed the thought aside. Why was her imagination such a greedy little whore? She was a good girl in real life, but she had a darker, wilder side to her that was safely hidden in the dirty corridors of her polluted mind.

  She’d been alone for most of her time as a banshee, but eventually started to associate with other banshees. Some were decent, but most were evil and quite carnal. While people who were about to die often saw banshees, they sometimes struck a deal with the creatures to keep from going to hell. Some of the banshees liked to torment or make slaves of the poor souls, while others preferred to use them for gratification. Morrigan hadn’t approved of such ill treatment of humans, but supposed the poor things were better off than the alternative. Some of the banshees tried to coax her to join in the fun, but she had wanted no part of it. There had been occasions when she watched a human and banshee getting it on. Her mind had wandered back in time to the only two encounters she’d ever known. She had given herself to both Askew brothers and then lost them.

  One of her banshee friends had caught Morrigan trying to masturbate one time and failing miserably at it. The banshee insisted her own personal human pet relieve her. He didn’t sleep with her. Morrigan hadn’t allowed it, but the man brought her to orgasm. Her first and only climax had come from a stranger. It felt incredible, but she always wished her beloved brothers had been the ones giving it to her. That experience aside, the only sexual act she’d really engaged in as a banshee was voyeurism.

  The sound of the front door opening summoned her from her thoughts. Damon came in from the evening chores and sat down to watch her mix muffin batter, which made her feel awkward. It wasn’t a raunchy, possessive stare like Jack’s, more of a sweet, curious puppy wondering what she was up to. “What are you making?”

  “Apple cinnamon muffins.”

  “Oh, yum.”

  “What kind of foods do you guys usually like to eat?”

  “Pretty much anything, just don’t ever make Jack any Jell-O.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He just sits there and stares at the stuff with big eyes. Then he tries to scoop it with a spoon and it wiggles, which really freaks him out. It’s hilarious to watch.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, when he swallows he makes all sorts of weird faces since it jiggles down his throat. The first time he had it he spat it back up and then stabbed the green blob like a crazy warrior, trying to make it stop jiggling. I’m not really sure why.”

  They laughed. “Aw, that’s so cute. Where is he anyway?”

  “He’s outside making a fort. He’s going to pelt Mark and Quinn with snowballs when they get home.”

  “This I’ve got to see.”

  “Are you guys seeing each other, then?”

  Her stomach fluttered. “Uh, no, I’m just here to work for them until they get tired of me.”

  “Don’t count on that.” Damon downed his glass of water, seeming surprised that she refilled it for him. “Thank you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re their mate. They’re not going to let you out of their sight.”

  Her heart slammed into her ribcage. “What?”

  “Oh crap, they didn’t tell you? I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought you knew.”

  “How can a person have two mates?”

  “It’s rare, but it happens. It’s kind of fitting, how they’re best friends and all.”

  “How do you know I’m their mate?”

  “You mean besides all the hormones raging in them and the pheromones radiating from their auras? I can sense their mating heat.”

  Her hands were shaking with apprehension and a faint thrill she couldn’t understand and was afraid to admit to. “Mating heat?”

  “Yeah, when shifters meet their intended, they know it immediately, and the mating heat sets in. It gets stronger the more true mates touch, until claiming them becomes inevitable.”

  “What happens after a person is bitten and claimed? What does it feel like?”

  His pale-blue eyes had a far-off look as they glazed over, presumably because he was entertaining a racy memory. “The mos
t intense sex of your entire life, and it only gets better over time. The bite hurts like hell, but then it turns into euphoria and you feel the mating bond setting in. Once you’re claimed, you’re bound to one another irrevocably. You can’t fight it even if you wanted to. Not that anyone would. It’s a perfect passion, like paradise on earth.”

  Morrigan was touched and terrified at the same time. It sounded so beautiful and romantic, even as it scared the crap out of her. Mark Askew had wanted to claim her back in the twelfth century. She hadn’t let him and she always regretted that. He had told her she was his mate. Now Jack Dillinger and Mark Montego had it in their heads that she was their mate. How was it possible for a lady to have so many mates? Surely they were all raving mad. “What if a person doesn’t want to be claimed?”

  Damon studied her for a second. “Why wouldn’t you? Most mates are more than ready to be claimed when they finally meet and get to know each other. I’ve heard of a few being reluctant in the beginning, but they always come around. They were meant to.”

  She shivered with excitement and fear. “So I get to be nature’s chess piece because some unseen force says so?”

  He looked at her funny before smiling. “No, it doesn’t work like that. I don’t think you understand—”

  The front door burst open. “They’re coming, Damon! Let’s kill them!”

  She giggled at Jack’s glee over smiting his friends.

  Damon grinned. “I’m coming. I didn’t mean to freak you out. Everything will be okay. You’ll see. Just don’t be surprised if they buy you sex toys or lingerie for Christmas. Mark likes to pamper his girlfriends and Jack likes to cut through the red tape and get down to business, as you’ve probably already noticed by now.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that one out already.”

  Damon went outside and she watched from the window, laughing at the way Quinn and Mark got pelted nearly to death with a storm of flying snowballs once they each got out of their vehicle.

  “Oh yeah, you think that’s funny?” Quinn yelled, making a cold, wet ball of his own. “How about this?”