Marc slowly nodded. “You’re right. It’s just coincidence, a bad one, granted.”
Rubbing his chin, Ryan murmured, “When Adam told me about the trusts and the way her grandfather cut off her parents… something just keeps niggling at me about it.”
“I don’t think they’d hurt her,” Shawn inserted softly. “Emotionally, yeah. They’ll eat away at her if you don’t watch out. She nearly always leaves their house in tears from the shit they throw at her.”
“Jesus, I can’t wait to meet these bastards,” Trip grumbled under his breath. “I’m almost glad you’re the one who’ll have to deal with them fully, Ryan.”
The leader grunted. “Your generosity stuns me, Trip.”
The Triad brother grinned, then his grin died. “Hurting her emotionally is one thing, but physically? Surely not?”
“They’re bastards, all of them,” Shawn repeated. “But I doubt they’d do anything like this.”
At least, he hoped he was right about that.
He frowned down at his shoes as he pondered the general oddity that was the Forsythe-Drew clan.
“She won’t go if you give her a choice,” he told them. “Not since she went on Friday night.”
“Why did she go then?”
He jerked a shoulder. “She goes every month.”
Marc blinked. “If I’d needed a clue as to how close they were, that’s it.”
“Are you tighter with your relatives?”
Ryan grunted. “They all live on the compound. You can’t get away from them.”
“She’ll love that,” Shawn commented wryly, a quick grin slashing across his face at how hard that would be for El to handle. She was shit with family, because she’d had crappy examples to work with.
Not her fault, but she’d always sucked when it came down to meeting her few exes’ friends and relatives.
“We’re not in each other’s pockets,” Trip retorted. “This subdivision is probably a lot bigger than either of you realize.”
He shrugged. “They’re not my…”
Trip grinned. “Yeah. They are your in-laws too.”
Shawn scrubbed a hand over his jaw and said it how it was… “Aww, shit.”
Chapter 10
A few nights later, when El climbed into bed, she had to admit to being a little wary.
They’d said they were going to take this slow, and she wanted that. She really did. But at the same time, she didn’t want to be alone in bed another night either.
They’d already given her time to get used to the new status quo, but their patience had to be dying a death, surely?
How would this develop, she asked herself.
Who’d go first?
El clenched her eyes shut at that embarrassing thought.
She’d never thought to be in a situation where men would ‘go first’ with her, but here she was. Four lovers. Supposedly.
Well, no supposed about it.
She had four lovers, she just didn’t know what to do with them.
Okay, that was even more embarrassing.
She’d had sex. Of course she had. Not good sex, but sex. How would she even take four lovers?
Could she?
And what were the sleeping arrangements?
Marc had told her on Saturday—God, that seemed like a lifetime ago—that she’d never sleep alone again, and yet, here she was. In bed. Alone.
Would one of them come in later? Did she want them to?
Annoyed by all the questions fluttering through her brain, she huffed and rolled over onto her side. When she felt the yawning space at her back, she bit her lip, and changed her mind.
Yes. She did want one of them to come in and take up the other half of the huge bed. She’d slept uneasily last night until Marc had come and put her at ease when he’d taken up the other side.
He’d been doing that since her arrival. Waiting until the early hours to come to bed, then letting her slide against him, seeking comfort from his generous form.
She hated sleeping alone. Hated big beds. Sleep was a commodity that few realized was totally precious. Ever since she’d been…
El closed her eyes, refusing to think about that while she thought about the last few days instead.
They’d been slow for her. She’d chosen to stay at the lodge, even though she knew there had to be a whole heap of people who wanted to meet her. She was their leader’s mate, after all.
But her mates had let her bury her head in the sand by staying here and cooking for them. She’d baked more damn cookies than the Girl Scouts.
She thought they were glad she was willing to stay here, not rake up a fuss about going about her normal routine while the threat was still out there.
What they didn’t realize was this was the norm for her. The threat had never not been there. So, she’d taken a chance to play Betty Crocker, and had buried them in cookies and cheesecake.
Not that they were complaining. Trip came sniffing around for something sweet most often, but Ryan hovered around the kitchen too. Shawn watched over her as was his want—he wasn’t her security detail anymore but he seemed to be forgetting that, sometimes standing in the kitchen with her as she baked but saying very little, while Marc would have grand discussions over her cookie technique—they’d already tried ten different variants of her grandmother’s cookie recipe. Some with butter, the next variant with oil. Only brown sugar in one batch, a mix of white and brown in another. Stuff like that.
It was amazing how that kind of simple task had soothed her.
Being around the men, there being no pressure at all to conform or to commit, simply to be… it had worked wonders for her. She was feeling far less frantic, a lot more grounded.
Well, she had been until today when she’d overheard Marc and Ryan discussing if they were letting the gentling go too far.
Gentling?
Just the word made her want to poke them in the eyes.
But, though she’d felt manipulated at first—a standard knee-jerk reaction for anyone, she’d felt certain—she’d heard no malice in their voices. If anything, they were concerned. For her.
They were always concerned for her though. Worried to their very bones.
Whenever they came in the kitchen to find her, they sought her out with wary eyes as if they thought she’d have run off by now. When relief settled in next, she watched them relax around her, but they were always making sure she was okay. That she had enough produce. Did she need any more? Was she bored? Didn’t she want to explore the grounds?
Their concern could have been cloying, but for someone who had been pretty much ignored by her family, it was like a warm embrace.
But after hearing about this ‘gentling’, she had to wonder if some ‘roughing’ was coming next. And as she felt certain they’d chop off their own hands rather than hurt her intentionally… that had to mean sex. So, tonight, she’d been preoccupied as hell, and had been fumbling around trying to figure out what was going on with her bedroom door which, soon, would require a revolving unit for all the men who’d be in and out on a nightly basis.
Almost like the thought had been a catalyst, a tap sounded at the door. She shot up in bed. “Who is it?”
“Trip.”
She blinked. “Come in.”
The door opened and Trip stepped in with a bright smile. “You comfortable in there, princess?”
“Not really,” she said honestly, then watched as he started to unfasten his shirt. She watched him, gaze glued to the buttons as he unpopped them.
She did appreciate how all four of her men lived in suits.
She’d once seen a meme on Facebook. “Suits are for women as lingerie is for men.” She totally concurred.
Four of her men.
The notion was crazy but true.
“Why not?”
His question had her frowning. She’d totally gotten lost in a sea of thoughts about suits. “Why not, what?”
He snorted. “Why aren’t you comfortable?�
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She swallowed, taken aback by his ease at stripping off in front of her—like he’d done it a thousand times. Like this wasn’t the first time he’d done it with her. She wasn’t sure if such confidence was irritating or touching. “The bed’s too big.”
“It won’t be when I’m in it.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you sleeping with me tonight?”
He nodded. “You have a problem with that?” The question could have implied vulnerability, but it didn’t. Trip seemed entirely secure of his position in her world.
“No,” she said softly, plucking at the duvet. “I just…”
“What?” he asked, brows cocked as he shrugged out of his shirt, then got to work on his fly.
Her throat was a little dry as he revealed more of himself. Not that she hadn’t already seen it. After all, he’d shifted in midair the other day to dive bomb into the pool, and then, in the water, when the jerk had dragged her under, she’d touched all that yummy nakedness and had seen his lovely butt when he’d scampered out of the pool after they’d swum together.
“How did you decide who’d sleep with me?”
“Well, we didn’t have a conversation about it, if that’s what you mean.” He snorted. “We didn’t roll up our sleeves and get into a fistfight over who’d snore next to you tonight.”
She frowned even though she knew his intention had been to make her laugh. “Then how did you know it was your turn?”
“You’re making too much out of this,” he said softly, and stepped out of his pants, shoes, and socks seemingly in one move.
She eyed the bulge in his boxers, gulped, and watched as he stepped toward the bed, lifted the duvet, and climbed in beside her. She yelped when he immediately huddled next to her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and tugged her into him.
“So, I’m guessing you don’t need a lot of space in bed, huh?” she said wryly as he pressed his face against her shoulder.
“Nah, why would I? Had an empty bed all these years. Nice for you to be taking up a big chunk of it.”
She elbowed him in the side. “Less of the big, bud,” she chided, but she wasn’t offended. If anything, she was amused.
He sighed, squeezed her a little. “Perfect. Go to sleep.”
Almost as though his words were a magic charm, he did. And, astonishingly enough, he got a hard on. Well, that was a first. A cock prodding her butt while the man was snoring next to her ear? It was like giving with one hand, and taking away with the other.
Her lips twitched at the thought. It wasn’t like she could even think he wasn’t interested in her. His cock told her that. But the fact he’d fallen asleep as soon as he’d snuggled up beside her? Was that beyond cute, or what?
Well, this ‘roughing’ wasn’t going down how she’d imagined, El thought ruefully.
Sighing, she settled into his hold, and had to admit, it felt pretty damn good. If anything, it felt like heaven. She was safe. She knew that. Maybe for the first time in her life, too.
Shawn had always protected her. But he was one man against a world of people who, at times, felt like they were all out for a piece of her.
Now? She had four men, and three of those four brought with them a body of people who would die to protect her because she was their leader’s woman.
It was amazing, and crazy, and bizarre, but it helped do what nothing ever had… within moments of relaxing into his hold, she slept.
Hours, days, moments later, she woke up with a moan. A mouth was tugging at her nipple and her eyes flared open with astonishment. Then, her brain kicked into gear and she remembered she was no longer single, but somehow, had four men now.
Four.
One felt like a lot. Two was greedy, but four? She didn’t even have an adjective to describe how salacious that was.
Trip robbed her of thoughts though when he began to toy with her other nipple with his fingers, plucking at it like she was a finely tuned violin in need of playing. She arched her hips as sensation hit her, and she loved that he wasn’t looming over her, the only weight he placed on her was his leg, which he’d cocked over one of hers so that he could gain enough leverage to toy with her boobs.
She missed his weight though, even if she could appreciate that he hadn’t wanted to totally terrify her upon wakening.
Running her hands through his hair, she gripped tight onto his head, rocking her hips again with a need she hoped to transmit. He hummed against her breast and murmured, “You taste so sweet, my Luna.”
She smiled and breathily whispered, “What if I want to know how you taste?”
“That can be arranged,” he groaned and reached up to join their mouths.
He tasted like sin and wonder and delight. She moaned into his lips, cupping his cheeks, and then running her hands over his back, she decided she loved the feel of him. The sensation of his hardened muscles against the pads of her fingers.
As he explored her mouth with his tongue, he shifted, finally moving over so that he was resting between her thighs and his cock was digging straight between her pussy lips. Ever so grateful she’d been wearing his way too big tee, which gave him easy access from above and below, and that she’d gone without panties it meant they were touching each other skin to skin.
The sensation was without compare, she thought dizzily. His hot heavy weight came dually. His body atop hers, his cock against her most tender and sensitive parts.
She moaned into his mouth. “I need you, Trip,” and she did. They weren’t words that came from an untruth. She did need him. She didn’t know where the need came from. It was like a bottomless pit in her core that a few kisses and his lips against her nipples had inspired.
With the brush of his shaft against her pussy, it was like the lighter to the wick. She set alight, needing him inside her, needing him to fill her like no other ever had.
He pulled back to dot a breathy kiss to her nose. “You do realize that I want to fuck you so many ways but sideways.”
“What’s wrong with sideways?” she teased, and he groaned at her joke.
“That could also be arranged, I guess,” he retorted, dipping his head to nip at her chin. “You’re a minx. Aren’t you? You shouldn’t be. You’re a good girl, but you’re our minx.”
She grinned, loving that he thought that about her. That he didn’t think she was dull, old Maryellen Forsythe-Drew, but some kind of sex kitten.
Well, she was dull, old El, but for him, them, she could be the sexy woman she’d been made to be.
Lifting her legs, she cupped his hips with her thighs and pressed her calves into his lower back. “I want to be on top,” she told him, reveling in his quick grin as he flipped them over.
“Never let it be said that I don’t take direction well,” he retorted, beaming up at her as his hands came to settle on her hips.
She snorted. “I don’t know. Let’s try it out of ten times before we come to a concrete conclusion.”
“Talk dirty to me,” he mocked, grinning as he bumped his dick up against her pussy. “Oh, wait. Some other part of you is.”
Snickering, she rocked her hips, letting his cock rub along the line of her slit. She shivered when the tip rubbed her clit, then moaned when that simple touch ignited sparks throughout her body. With another moan, she whispered, “Does that feel as good to you as it does to me?”
“Better, babe,” he told her gruffly, his voice deliciously deep. His hair flopped over his forehead, and he had a massive case of bedhead, but the blond strands looked like spun gold against his paler forehead, and his eyes were dark with secrets made only for her.
The way he looked at her was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life. Bar none. And she’d watched this sexy as hell guy strip off earlier. There was nothing that should have beaten that! She was wrong, however. He looked at her like she was fifty Sports Illustrated cover girls combined, and that made it easier for her to tear off the tee and reveal all of herself to him.
She was shy, at first. She
was round and plump. Never had she been fashionably thin like her mother or her sister-in-law. She had hips that wouldn’t quit and a chunky waist, but when he stared at her, she felt beautiful. He allowed her to let her fears and confidence issues melt away, and El would admit to loving him for that.
Reaching down between them, she grabbed his shaft and notched the tip to her gate. She was slick and hot, and the pressure of him right at her entrance was enough to have her eyelids fluttering down and her head falling back as she reveled in the deliciousness of the moment.
He was larger than any lover she’d had before, and he forged a new path inside her body. One that would forever be marked as his. Wriggling her hips in smooth circles, she waited for him to grab hold of her hips and urge her into action. But he didn’t. He let her take her time, let her tease the pair of them, and she loved him for that too.
Each inch was hard won but she delighted in being conquered. There was no pain as he spread her tissues, filling all of her right from the start. Then, she reached down and grabbing a hold of his hand, she pressed it to her pussy.
“Touch my clit, Trip,” she whispered, pleading a little but knowing too that she was directing him, and loving that he was letting her boss him around.
His eyelids dropped down like they had weights attached to the lashes, and he peered up at her through the white-gold shutters as he rubbed her clit. Slowly, at first, then gaining speed as his teasing touch incited her to move faster, to rock her hips and relax more around his hardness. She gritted out his name as he began to frig her clit in earnest, not stopping until she was seeing sparks behind her eyes.
Almost like those sparks were the catalyst, she took all of him, and boy, there was no hiding from the sensation. She felt like she was being impaled.
Finding Luna: A Lion Shifter Reverse Harem Romance (PRIDE Book 1) Page 14
