Sanibel Sizzle - Vampire Werewolf Menage

by Talyn Scott

  “Believe me, baby, I want you. My knife isn’t sheathed by any means. We’re all different. Humans have distinctive personalities. We have distinct werewolves. Your brother’s the destroyer. He tips the freaky scale, and no one wants to mess with him, especially me,” he admitted, cupping her face with his strong hands. “But when Bren Walker is on your side, you’ll win every time. And that’s gonna happen, Red Becca. We’ll beat this. Your mate will die for you. Everything I’ve done is for you. Do you believe in me?”

  “Yes,” Rebecca sounded sure, a hard stare into his electric blues, “everyone’s waiting for me to come home and that’s what I’m going to do.” She didn’t miss a beat. “What’s that stain?” Lifting up his short sleeve, new markings were inked inside his bicep. Fresh tattoos trailed around his skin as a chain…in blood. Stepping back, they were abhorrent to her. “I feel sick near them.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know the truth, but Gage did it before I headed back here.” Looking sheepish, he sighed, “I’m not as in control as you think. It’s Druid mumbo jumbo crap to spell off the werewolf and is totally necessary for my stoic behavior.”

  “Which werewolf?” It sure repelled her touch.

  “My werewolf, he wants his claim. Can you blame him? Since we’ve found out were mates, I’m crawling naked on glass, shredding any essence of humanity that I have while waiting for you. And the fact that you’re in heat, well, the beast is losing his shit over it. The pounding in my head nearly killed me.” Blade took a possessive glance at her. “It’s not your fault, but I’m stone hard. I haven’t marked you, and Ciaran pisses circles around what’s mine.”

  He pisses circles around his whore. She swallowed hard and asked, “How much longer?”

  “Rumors leaked that it’s tomorrow night, not sure if that’s true. If raids on the rogue Habalines start, we’re out of here, good to run. The pack will be too busy to track us.” Pulling her close, he pressed his erection against her stomach.

  “What if I never mist again?”

  Cleary unworried, Blade assured her, “We’ll still run together, baby, making love in the wetlands and the ocean.” He kissed her tenderly. “Besides, I think Gage could knock any spell Ciaran’s placed on you. He just needs to get to you first and check it out.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, I do. I have to lurk around, find out what I can. If I stay here with you any longer,” he whispered, leaning back and shooting blue lasers from his eyes, “my cock’s gonna make trouble.”

  “Oh, well,” she huffed, “we wouldn’t want that.” Sarcasm covered her statement.

  With his open mouth, he wrapped his lips over the column of her throat. Suckling the very same vein he wanted to tap before, he bit down as far as he could go without breaking the skin. “Feel me, Becca,” he whispered desperately, “feel me the way I feel you.” He misted away.

  After Rebecca wiped a few lonely tears, she jumped in the shower. Heat didn’t creep up on her this time. The slam was sudden, like she’d been dropped in the middle of nowhere without food and she was starved. Sexual frustration leapt to rage with every warm spray that hit her swollen sex. Thinking of nothing but Blade burying himself deep inside her, soothing the hurt, she slid her fingers inside. The cramps started as if they’d never left, and her body grew wetter with every stroke. Nothing relieved her and there wasn’t a way to call Blade back. Tossing her hair out of her eyes, Rebecca released a pent-up breath. She couldn’t orgasm. Yeah, she needed Blade’s pheromones, but still. Couldn’t she give herself a little relief? Apparently not.

  No wonder the wolves fought each other for unmated females in Rebecca’s newfound condition. Now, she was an eternal sympathizer. If she made it back to Sanibel, she’d tell every unmated Were female she knew to screw those desperate males silly. Let nature take its course and by no means fight mystical pulls. Heat was unfathomable lust searing through her blood. Molding her, redefining the female within while bringing her to her knees, it begged for the ultimate release only a male could give.

  I want Blade.

  One singular creature held the blame for everything her life had become. The very reason she wasn’t under the moon rocking with her man. He led the undue stress on her brother and friends, the risks her mate took daily, and the ingrained torture she received waiting day in and day out for her execution. And she was having dinner with the moody motherfucker. “I’ve clipped your wings,” she mocked in her deepest voice, “You’re in my gilded cage, whore. Well, Alpha of Scotland,” she shut off the shower. Determination stiffened her spine and a smile that wasn’t a smile split her face. “You’re about to dine with a raving bitch in heat. Good luck with that.”

  9

  Fire flickered in a massive stone fireplace casting a demonic glow over Ciaran. Staring at his reflection in a gilded mirror, he noticed it showcased his moods perfectly. One flicker Satan’s spawn and the next portrayed a seductively glowing Highland Laird capable of making a bonny lass forget her name once he settled atop her. He’d accomplished the latter many times over his long life.

  Come to me, little spitfire. Your werewolf awaits.

  On cue, lightning flashed from a nearby storm just as the double doors opened grandly to reveal his sentinels escorting in…. Rising quickly, he curled a brow at the sight before him. Then Ciaran executed a svelte move, if he did say so himself, which hid his lower half behind an armchair. His cock standing at attention as various attending pack members drooled on, but certainly not for him. Had he ever hardened for a lass from across the room? Not in a brothel as a pup, not even in a modern-day strip club had it happened, until now, and all in his very home. “What are you wearing?”

  Take her!

  Soon, control yourself, beast.

  “The clothes you provided for me.” The fire-headed vixen pressed her hands down her front, biting her lip nervously, dripping with sugary sweetness. Even so, she looked very uncomfortable with her body.

  He wasn’t buying it.

  “Afanas, a moment please,” Ciaran directed his Beta to a private corner.

  Afanas came quietly, listening to his Alpha but not taking his eyes off her. “Yes, sire?”

  “Oh, it’s sire, is it? What clothes did you procure for my woman? She wears next to nothing.” Crimson curls piled the lass’s head, drifting across her forehead and sliding around her neck. Fuck me hair. Cosmetics perfected her perfections, Kohl lining her eyes. Come fuck me eyes. A microscopic and much too sheer white skirt skimmed her ‘worship at my alter’ thighs. Her blouse, he groaned, “That’s not a blouse, but a teeny scarf.”

  “It’s called a halter top.” Afanas had the nerve to wink at her.

  What’s worse? She winked back. “Her tits are much too large for something of that nature,” Ciaran barked, stifling a territorial growl.

  “Oh, I think whoever designed that blouse had her breasts in mind.” Afanas barely glanced at his Alpha. “I’d like to thank him or her personally…eh, who am I kidding? A male designed that top and we both know it.”

  “For the love of God, man, listen to me and stop ogling the lass. I ordered dresses…not scraps of cloth and black leather… stiletto… boots.” Come fuck me shoes.

  “The play clothes,” Afanas said, rolling his eyes. “She clearly mixed them up with the ‘out of the boudoir’ garments. An easy fix, I’ll walk her upstairs, explain the difference and help her change. It’ll take a while.”

  “Set your fooking ass down, Beta.”

  “Ah, so the cat hasn’t got your brogue, after all. My guess is she’s stirring your pot. A smart one you have, better watch your back. If you’re lucky, said back will be nice and bloody by sunrise.”

  “Taken under advisement along with everything else,” Ciaran grated and directed an intense stare and his throbbing sex towards his new mistress. The breath left his chest. “Come sit, my sweet,” he clogged on the
words while holding a palm out for her. She took it. In all honesty, Ciaran was surprised that she had. Because even though she was finally free to walk with guards out of her chamber and dine like a lady, she seemed more than peeved this night. Up to something, he thought. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her she was in a cage. He mentally shrugged. Everyone knows boundaries must be set by the Alpha. Best she understood the rules from the start.

  When they neared the table, Ciaran decided that his mistress had the most gorgeous ass that graced the face of this realm. So pushing her chair in wasn’t a drudgery of male chivalry, but the blessing of ocular sin. And he couldn’t help but notice that she wore no bra. As she sat, her breasts jiggled, hardened berries protruded through the thin fabric for all to see. Damn it. Sliding across the silky fabric with every move her body made. Swaying heavily as she reached for her fork. I will taste your nipples.

  Instead, he stilled her hand.

  “I will feed you.” A faux smile lit her face. She didn’t like that edict one bit. Nevertheless, a piece of lamb passed through her lips from his fork. With a seductive undertone, Ciaran gently slid the tines over her tongue. I’ve not once fed a female, until now.

  “I’ve never seen the mark of a species vampire.” A nearby pain in the ass intruded upon his fun.

  His lass blinked at the annoying female. Disconcerted, she replied, “Okay?”

  The female twisted her napkin awkwardly and explained, “I thought you might show it to me…it’s not like it’s a secret around here or anything. You left your mates for Ciaran, right?”

  “Left my….” That clearly did it. Ciaran watched wee canines slide over her bottom lip; his lass transfixed on the female’s throat. Through a hiss she spoke to the other woman as if she were a small child. “Do you honestly think a bride could ever leave a species vampire?” An iridescent sheen broke out and transformed her skin to a mystic splendor. By God, you take my breath away.

  Finally.

  Ciaran stood and ordered, “Everyone out!” For those that took their time to gawk at his woman, the Alpha roared until the elaborately outsized chandelier threatened to shatter and rain down on their thick skulls. “Sentinels posted at the door, Afanas!” The beast calmed right after all males left the dining hall. Possessiveness grew daily by leaps, and his werewolf didn’t care for the lust the others emitted around what was his, so problem solved.

  She’s not yours!

  He freaked on the Alpha in yet another battle within his psyche. She’s an imminent bedmate, but not a true mate. The beast slammed his skull with pure wrath. Ciaran refused to lift his hands and calm his features - a lesson from his father. No one should know when the Alpha beast stirs, only when it’s loose.

  In the next moment, he tied her to her chair. Now wasn’t the time for this delectable morsel to run from his Alpha beast. He’d take that decision from her and save her the pain. “Would you care for more?” He seated himself closer. Calmly spearing lamb with his fork and acting as if nothing had just become obvious, Ciaran brought the offering to her lips. By the look on her face, he thought she might bite off his fingers instead. A little bite never hurt anyone. “Open wide,” he purred, unashamedly relaying the evident. Ciaran wasn’t talking food and they both knew it. She did as he asked because hunger would do that to a pissed off full-blooded female. In. Heat.

  Ah, the beauty of what’s to come.

  It didn’t faze her when he deliberately missed the mark. The meat she got, the sauce dribbled. If he was going to play, he could have thought of cleaner foods such as whipped cream. But no, he was a male werewolf, combining two of his three favorite things: female and meat. The other? That would be the chase. Dripping gravy down her chin and her throat, so he could…lick… every… last… drizzle.

  Could he use the heat to coax her cooperation? If she could somehow forget who he was and how he’d frightened her for weeks, would he have a chance at more agreeable bed play? Ciaran’s tongue begged her to try. Gliding over her jugular, down into the dip of her right collarbone and sliding back up the center, he twirled it under her chin, breathing, “More?”

  “I think I’m finished now.”

  “Two bites can’t fill you.”

  “In this case, they can. Think you could let me go now?”

  “Never,” he smiled, but his fierceness betrayed him, coating the single word in layers of threats. Leaning forward, he trailed his fingers down her arms, the Alpha reading her tension. “If I knew you’d sit willingly, dine with me as a female to her male. You wouldn’t be secured to your dining chair.” Her wrists and ankles were bound courtesy of his ever handy silver filled rope. Even with the immortal strength he now knew she possessed, this female wasn’t going anywhere until he relented. Wonder if she has claws?

  “You say secured like it’s for my safety, instead of displayed for your warped entertainment.” She didn’t return his smile. “Feeding me,” Rebecca shook her head, too angry to finish. She obviously knew there was silver hidden inside the ropes as she hadn’t bothered trying to free herself.

  “Feeding you is my right, one of many.” Hot steel melted inside him, metal lava. He felt the burn as the beast fueled his thoughts, penetrating his mind.

  Mark her.

  Ah, werewolf, I really should.

  “My mates’ rights!” she blew up, breaking his trance. No more games, she tilted her chin with a clear challenge.

  “You’re fortunate he lives, that we’ve come to an understanding.”

  “You…” She stopped, quickly understanding that her true mate had been captured. “If you’ve tortured him,” she warned, canines digging into her bottom lip until two beads of blood formed.

  “He’s well,” he cut her off. Slanting his head, he licked the droplets before she had the chance to snap at him. Unmistakably he tasted a pure blood from a very old and strong line.

  “You played us all along.”

  “Well, no one ever plays me, lass.” Confidence dripped, coating his simple sentence with the supremacy of a thousand-year-old creature.

  “You set the first two openings,” she said. He studied her expressions as the truth unfolded afore her. “Weakened wards aren’t your style. I realize that now, understanding your power…”she stalled, shaking her head, “How are you forming and holding all wards on such a vast property? Ah,” she held that thought and clicked the pieces. “Druid spells, you’re full of them. A true shaman who never needed a back-up, you knew the entire time,” her laughter was weak, troubled, “What are you going to do with…?”

  “Your true mate?”

  “Yes, my true mate. We’re us and we’re one,” she bit out, watching him watching her.

  The Alpha beast stalked, and she clearly sensed it. Moving behind his eyes, pacing, as if he’d found his mate again. A singular female, his queen, his true lover, the perfect match in the game Weres played, the Alpha thought she was the only one.

  Helene is gone. He reminded his beast.

  “I’ve decided not to cause you such insurmountable pain, therefore he’ll live,” Ciaran stated baldly. The king was he.

  “Of course, you undoubtedly make those ‘life and death’ decisions daily, depending on the weather.” She had the nerve to be surly. “You want me, Ciaran, yet you don’t.”

  “So young, so smart, so beautiful, so mine,” he mocked. So dangerous to my heart, in these harrowing times of war how will I protect a fair butterfly gracing my hand before I’m forever robbed of its very existence? Especially when my enemies find you’re my weakness. “Don’t mistake obsessive lust for needs to claim. An unmated male is… what he is, and I am one. I had a mate. She died. You can’t replace her.”

  “Never volunteered for the job,” she softened her tone, withholding the rancor. Without a doubt, she sat worried for her young male. “Nor would biology permit,” she added.

  Hooking his he
els behind her front chair legs, he scooted her over, knees pressing knees. We will no longer speak of mates. “You thought to embarrass me publically with this manner of dress?”

  “You thought to humiliate me by making me your bitch. These hung readied in the closet. I honored your dress code, making it real.”

  Lowering his mouth to her bound hand, he kissed her fingertips. “Otherwise the lines would blur for you?”

  “Not even if I tried,” she said hotly, looking away again.

  “Tell me who you are and maybe the lines will better define themselves.” I smell the heat, the need. You can’t fight me.

  Her eyes watered, before she droned, “I’m Renee….”

  Ciaran tightened his palms on her legs, eyes flashing the beast. His werewolf growled, “You do not want to say Renee Shirley to me once more!” The beast inhaled her heat, her feminine aroma, owning it. Ragged breaths left his body, breaking Ciaran’s own rules. “You don’t fear me as you should,” he cautioned, shaking off mid-trans the best he could. “In the beginning, it took me a couple of days to figure out why. You were scared,” he laughed without humor, “yes, you were truly scared. But I wasn’t your real Alpha, the one you answer to: Jayce Jordan - the murderer.”