by Cara Adams
Wolf Pack Mates 3
Dominating Their Mate
Malachi Phelan has wanted Ginnie Thomas for a long time. Zircon Lovell wants her, too. They agree to share her, if she’ll have them. Now that’s she’s moved into the old schoolhouse with Taige and Eve, they can show her how much she means to them both. But she doesn’t know they’re werewolves and they can’t tell her, which makes pursuing her difficult.
They have a wonderful day out together, and are just getting to know her with a nice game of doctor, nurse, and patient, when half a dozen wolves break into the house to attack them all. Titan Raul is determined to prevent wolves associating with humans. He challenges Jasper to a fight to the death to rule the pack. Will this be the end of not just their romance, but of any hope for wolves and humans to mix?
Genre: BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Shape-shifter
Length: 35,089 words
DOMINATING THEIR MATE
Wolf Pack Mates 3
Cara Adams
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DOMINATING THEIR MATE
Copyright © 2013 by Cara Adams
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-199-9
First E-book Publication: July 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DOMINATING THEIR MATE
Wolf Pack Mates 3
CARA ADAMS
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Ginnie Thomas looked around her apartment. It hadn’t been this empty—or this clean—since the day she’d moved in a couple years ago. She ran down the hallway and did a cartwheel across her living room floor, laughing when she almost hit her head against the far wall. Undeterred she ran back to the hallway and did it again. Damn that was fun! Sometimes acting like an adult was just plain boring. Kids had all the fun.
All her clothes, plus her paints, brushes, inks, pens, charcoal sticks and most of her sketching gear had already been boxed up and she’d taken it to the old schoolhouse where it was waiting for her to get to work again. She’d hoped to borrow a truck or trailer from some friends—big, tough male friends—to help her move the last of her possessions there tomorrow. It was likely going to cost her a bit in beer and pizza to pay them for their help, but she was sure it’d be a whole lot cheaper than hiring a professional company of movers. Besides, she wanted to be right there watching that nothing happened to damage her easels and work table.
But her friend Taige had just texted her to say a couple of her partner’s colleagues wanted to help her and would bring their pickups at eight tomorrow, so that was really good news.
A month ago she, and Taige York, and Eve Lang, had bought a two-hundred-year-old schoolhouse, which they now ran as a craft market. They’d made one room of the building into an apartment where the other two women lived, and she was finally joining them there. The front room was their market room and they had a work room and a storeroom-cum-shipping room as well. Taige made jewelry, Eve specialized in yarn craft wall hangings, and Ginnie painted and sketched, so the three blended together perfectly. The first few market weekends had been wildly successful as well. Of course, the excitement might die down but they all sold their work through their personal websites as well. Anyway Ginnie didn’t care. She was just so excited to be about to move in with them and become a full-time painter at last.
Ginnie had been friends with Taige and Eve since they’d been at elementary school together. On their very first day they’d sat at a table together and the teacher had talked about the number seven and told them to draw a picture about seven. For Ginnie that was a no-brainer. She’d sketched a rainbow and spent the rest of the afternoon coloring it in. At home, she had a huge tub of colored pencils, with all the colors she could ever need. At school making a rainbow with the correct colors in the proper order was much more difficult, and she’d had to blend several colors together to get the effect she’d wanted. Consequently when it was time to go home, she’d refused to leave because her picture wasn’t finished.
The teacher had been surprised but her mother’d just shrugged. “Ginnie’s always liked drawing,” she’d said.
“Well foster it. She’s got true talent,” the teacher had replied.
And now, at last, at long, long, long last, she was about to step out of her secure paid employment and make art her livelihood. “I’ll damn well be successful, too,” she promised herself.
Ginnie wondered which of Jasper’s friends was coming to help her. Taige was engaged to both Jasper and Cornelian, and Jasper was the CEO of a big farm not far from the schoolhouse. Ginnie had scarcely even blinked when Taige announced she loved both Jasper and Cornelian. That kind of thing happened a lot in some sectors of the art world, although possibly the people involved were circumspect about announcing it publicly.
Then Eve fell in love with two of the other managers from the farm, Morgan and Jett. Since th
en Ginnie had found herself constantly thinking about what it would be like to have sex with two men at once. All those hands and mouths, not to mention a certain other body part, had a lot of potential to make a woman very happy indeed, she reckoned. Unfortunately she supposed there weren’t too many unmarried men left on the farm. She’d seen a man named Malachi a few times. He had bright green eyes, sandy-blond hair, and a body to die for. Likely he was married with a bunch of kids. Oh well. Ginnie walked back to the far end of her apartment, turned, ran across the kitchen, and did a cartwheel down her hallway, then another one.
Her flying feet crashed into her front door knocking it open and her body slammed into a person whose hand was raised to knock on her door.
Malachi.
Oops.
* * * *
Malachi Phelan had found himself volunteering to do the jobs at the old schoolhouse ever since the women had bought the place. He’d been one of the werewolf shape-shifters in the pack who’d wanted to buy the building as a security issue, simply because it was so close to the pack lands. He’d also been unable to think of a reasonable use for it, although he, personally, had been prepared to live there, if someone had to. Living there with a mate suited him much better of course.
Being a switch in the BDSM scene, he’d always assumed finding a mate was going to be a lot more complicated for him than for his fellow wolves. Not only were their far fewer female wolves than male wolves, he needed to find that rare person who was also a switch. Preferably one who would be willing to exchange roles with him when he needed her to.
But recently, Jasper and Cornelian had decided to share a mate and the Supreme Alpha had said sharing a woman was acceptable. That had opened up a huge number of possibilities for Malachi. Now he could find his female, and if she was a sub, together they could find a Dom. If she was a Domme together they could look for a sub. It was still going to be far from a simple arrangement, but at least he could see hope ahead of him.
And then he met beautiful, lively, fascinating Ginnie. A real little rebel with her razor-short brown hair, whiskey-brown eyes, and pierced face. She had two eyebrow piercings, and another one in her nose. And right now he’d just learned she had a bellybutton piercing. As she’d come crashing through the door at him, upside down, her T-shirt almost under her armpits, he’d seen her bejeweled bellybutton, her trim ribs, and the lacy edges of a bright blue bra, before he’d had the presence of mind to plant his feet solidly on the ground and grab her flying body.
Her cunt was so close to his nose he could smell her feminine musk and his mouth ached to taste her there, but he restrained himself and gently turned her right way up. “Swinging from the chandeliers?” he asked.
“Cartwheels along the hallway actually. Why are you here?”
“A couple of us are coming here tomorrow morning to help you move. I wanted to check that your furniture will fit in a couple pickup trucks or if we need to bring the eighteen-wheeler.”
“I’ve been taking boxes of small stuff every time I go to the schoolhouse, so there are only the big things left now. I don’t think you’ll need an eighteen-wheeler though. I was expecting a couple trips in a pickup would do it. Come on in.”
Malachi had been hoping to see some of her paintings, but when she said she’d packed all the small things away she wasn’t exaggerating.
She had a two-seater couch and an armchair in front of the television, an empty bookshelf against a wall, her bed, a rolled-up rug, three big easels leaning against another wall, a long workbench, a small dining table with four straight-backed chairs, a refrigerator, and a washer-dryer combo.
Malachi eyed the long workbench and said, “That might not quite fit in the pickup. As long as you don’t mind a bit of it overhanging it should be fine, though. I’ll bring plenty of rope and an old shirt to put on the end of it to warn other drivers.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for helping,” she said, smiling at him in a way that instantly made his cock grow hard.
He’d hoped to spend much longer than this with her. “Can I take you out for a meal? It’s a little early but we could sit and talk.”
“Thanks for asking, but I have leftovers to eat put aside for tonight.”
“You could eat them for lunch tomorrow instead.”
“Nice try. Have you ever seen what happens when yogurt explodes in a purse?”
Confused, he shook his head.
“Exactly. It’s not a pretty sight, and the smell never goes away. Basically it means throw away the purse. So I’d rather eat the leftovers tonight, thanks all the same.”
Damn. This was harder than he’d expected. “How about we just go out for coffee then? Leftover coffee beans won’t destroy your purse.”
“I only ever drink coffee if there’s a one-hundred-percent guarantee the beans have been grown and marketed in a fair-trade manner and are not a product of child slave labor. Do you know how much of the coffee imported here comes from child slaves?”
Malachi knew he was looking like a stupefied fish, standing there with an open mouth. He closed his jaw and shook his head.
“Most of the coffee and chocolate here comes from the Ivory Coast. The beans there are dried, sorted, and packed by child slaves who work eighty hours a week and are not paid at all. I won’t have any part of that industry. I only drink fair-trade coffee and eat fair-trade chocolate.”
The conversation had not gone anywhere he thought it would. But he did admire and respect her decision to be a responsible and ethical citizen. It was another tiny facet of her personality to cherish as he got to know her better. “I understand and will tell the people who buy our supplies only to get fair-trade goods from now on. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow.”
Malachi found himself outside in the parking lot, his head whirling from his brief encounter with Ginnie. In less than half an hour she’d turned his entire world upside down. He remembered the short few moments he’d held her in his arms. He wanted to experience that again, and soon. But he’d also meant what he’d said about the fair-trade products. No thinking person could agree with child slavery. He’d talk to Zircon tonight and make sure the pack never bought anything other than fair-trade goods in future.
Actually, Zircon was one of the men who’d said he wouldn’t mind helping move Ginnie’s furniture. He’d speak to Zircon as soon as he got back to the pack lands.
* * * *
Zircon Lovell had known since he was at college that complete happiness was unlikely to be achievable in his life. He was a male werewolf shape-shifter in a pack with an abundance of males and a shortage of females. He was Dom in a BDSM scene littered with Doms far more powerful and assertive than himself. Oh, he liked to be in charge. He liked planning every tiny detail of an event and watching as he pulled the strings and everything fell so perfectly into place with people happy and contented. But he also had a taste for role playing. On his first day at college he’d joined the role playing community there, and somehow he’d scraped through his course only going to class when it fit in with his role playing commitments. He’d experienced four years of sheer fun but always knew it was just for a short time. That life wasn’t going to be like that.
He’d even seriously considered marrying a human woman and living in town with the humans, pretending he wasn’t a wolf. But although he loved role playing, he didn’t think he could do it for the rest of his life. It was also a very big gift to ask of the woman he married. And besides, what if he had kids and one or more of them turned out to be a shape-shifter? He could hardly expect a baby or toddler to role-play being fully human. So here he was living on the pack lands, working for the pack, more or less resigned to a life of never being mated.
When the Alpha announced he was mating a human woman, and that the Supreme had given permission, a flicker of hope woke in Zircon’s heart. Perhaps he could find a human woman he loved and bring her back to the pack lands. It was still going to be a major challenge to find a woman who would agree to such a lifestyle, but at least n
ow he had some chance of a happy ever after.
After Zircon had returned from college to begin working for the pack, he’d been sent to assist the Quartermaster. Everything was done by hand. In one set of giant ledgers, they wrote down everything they purchased. Each item was checked off as it arrived, and once a week he had to carefully look at every page to see which orders had not yet been filled.
A second set of ledgers listed everything they produced and when and where it was sold or consumed by the pack. Multiple paper records had to be kept for every transaction, right from the decision to produce or buy the item, through to its sale or being consumed. An entire room was filled with filing cabinets full of paperwork, and boxes of papers about everything imaginable. When something went missing or was unaccounted for, he could spend hours or even an entire day tracking through endless reams of paperwork.
At first Zircon said nothing, wondering if he was simply so new at the job he was taking far too long to do everything and making each step too complicated because of his lack of familiarity with the task. But six months later, although he now knew unerringly which box or filing cabinet to go look in, what should be a simple task was still taking him far too long. He went and spoke to his boss, the Quartermaster, asking if they could computerize the department.
“How would that help?” asked the older man.
When Zircon demonstrated how an item could be followed through the process by clicking on a screen, instead of looking through papers, cabinets and boxes, the Quartermaster was delighted, although he was also worried such a system would be very expensive and take a long time to install.
