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The Power of the Pack: A Shifter Menage Romance by Maggie Ryan and Shanna Handel – Sample

Chapter One


“What on Earth do you mean, you go into battle as you were born?” I stood, facing Nick, my hands on my hips, my brow knitting in confusion.

“Better I show you,” he said, a naughty glint in his eyes. His hand went to the waist of his black jeans and with one theatrical swoosh, the man was standing buck naked before us. How had he done that so fast? It was like he was some stripper in a club, ripping off his pants in one movement. The sound of Cynthia’s soft moan from where she stood next to me had me discarding any thoughts of Nick’s clothing, or rather, lack thereof. His tanned muscular body stood proudly before us, his generous cock dangling between his stone sculpted thighs.

“Oh, my God,” I murmured, shielding my eyes with my hands. I already had all the Greek gods I could handle with my two mates. I did not need this distraction. From between my fingers, I peeked to my right. Cy stood beside me at the foot of the stairs, her mouth gaping open, one arm across her torso with her hand sitting on her cocked hip, the fingers of her other hand reaching up to twirl at her blonde curls. Wide baby blue eyes were locked on Nick. I could practically feel the girl going into heat.

Uh-oh. I knew Baal had not yet officially staked a claim on Cy, but the entire pack knew that in Balthazar’s mind at least, Cynthia belonged to him. Thank the Gods Baal wasn’t here to see…

“What is the meaning of this?”

Too late.

Baal sailed into the hallway and though his hands were tucked casually in the pockets of his linen trousers, his face spelled contempt.

A broad smile stretched across Nick’s face. “Just showing the ladies how our Ambrosias prepare for battle.”

“Really? It appeared to me that you were giving a strip tease,” Baal quipped.

“Simply demonstrating there really is no need for clothing when one transforms. Best to go into battle bare and return as nature intended you to be.”

Baal gestured at Cy and me. “But is it necessary to do this here, now?”

“Afraid of a little healthy competition, Balthazar?” Nick spoke to Baal, but his eyes never left Cynthia’s.

For the first time since I’d met Baal, I witnessed a pink hue creeping up into his cheeks. Balthazar Ambrosia was either blushing or was about to explode.

Nick swaggered toward Cynthia, his cock swaying with each step. Her mouth still open, her hot pink lips forming an ‘O,’ a little sigh escaped her as Nick took possession of the tendril of hair she twirled between his own fingers. Giving it a little tug, his blue eyes locked on Cy’s, he said, “There is no need for competition. I know how to share. They say two men are better than one.” He cocked his head to the side, his mouth curling into a grin. “Do you think that’s true, Cynthia? Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

As the tip of Cy’s tongue came out to lick along her lips as if needing to moisten them before even attempting to answer, I saw Baal’s eyes darken, his hands curling into fists in the depths of his pockets. When she drew her bottom lip into her mouth, a row of perfect white teeth biting into the plump, pink flesh, I heard both men give soft growls and saw Nick’s already impressive cock twitch where it lay against his thigh.

That was evidently more than Balthazar could handle. Turning on his heel, he stormed from the hall, barking over his shoulder that we’d better not be late. Nick laughed, giving Cy’s hair a final tug. He then returned to where his pants had been forgotten on the floor. His back to us, he bent over, giving us a full view of his fine, sculpted buttocks. Slowly pulling his pants up and over his glutes, the sound of a zipper gliding up its track vanquishing the illusion of Velcro fastenings, he turned around to face us, buckling his belt. “Shame he left. I would like to get to know him better.” Brushing past Cy and me, he gave Cy’s rump a sharp slap. “See you around, ladies.” Whistling, he followed Baal’s path, leaving us alone and both a little breathless.

“Wow,” Cy whispered dreamily, a smile spreading across her face, her hand subconsciously going to her rear, holding it there as if Nick had left her with a precious gift. She stared down the corridor, watching him until he disappeared. “That must be some remote island. He doesn’t have a single tan line. That man is deliciously golden all over… and I mean all over.”

I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her from her dazed state. “Focus, Cy. We have to prep for battle and we need your head in the game. Baal’s too. Promise me, no flirting with either one of them until this battle is finished. After that, you do what you want to—do them both for all I care—but do not let these men get into your head when you need to fight.”

Cy’s eyes slowly cleared and she gave a little nod. “You’re right. You always are. But you know how boy crazy I get. First Baal, now Nick… how’s a girl supposed to focus in this castle! And Jesus—did you see his—”

“Dimples? Yes—they are adorable. Now let’s go get changed.”

“No! Though you’re right; both men have the cutest dimples, don’t they? But I’m talking about Nick’s giant—”

“Let’s go.” Grabbing her by the arm, I forcefully steered her up the stairs. “I will say that the man is awfully fast. Did you even see how he ditched his jeans?” When all I got was another soft moan in response, I rolled my eyes. “Forget it, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that if we’re late for training, I assure you the smack I get on my ass will put that sorry little pop Nick gave you to shame.”

When we entered the basilica after changing, the tension between Cy and Baal was palpable. Even Andrew—our ever-smiling upbeat pack member—looked out of sorts, obviously worried about the dynamic between our friends as Baal gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head.

Cynthia, if you must fix your makeup during training then best to not wear any at all. Honestly, I don’t know why you bother getting so dressed up for these sessions. You are supposed to be working, not reporting for a photo shoot in some beauty contest.” Baal pushed his hand through his shoulder-length light brown hair, his green eyes annoyed as they ran over Cy’s hot pink mesh and spandex body suit that left very little to the imagination. Holding his hand out to gesture at her attire, he said, “I mean, look at you. Always wearing club clothes, a full face of makeup, and your hair looks like you just left the salon.”

Baal, usually calm and collected, seemed rattled—my guess from seeing Nick try to make a move on Cynthia in the hall as well as the fact that the man was constantly calling out praise with every move Cynthia made. To be fair to Baal though, his frustration was not misplaced. After all, first, Cy had stopped hand to hand practice to replace a false eyelash that had come unglued. Then, she’d had to take a break to adjust her boobs as they came perilously close to overflowing from her low-cut top during a spinning lunge. Those had been bad enough, but the straw that broke the Greek god’s back was when Cynthia had stopped mid-kick, dropped her leg to the ground, and turned to me, asking, “Do I have lipstick on my teeth? I feel like I have lipstick on my teeth,” as she scrubbed at her gleaming white smile behind her hot pink lips.

Cy’s hand dropped from her mouth to point a finger with its perfectly manicured, glittery frosted nail at him. “Balthazar, if you must insist on drilling us morning till night with barely any breaks, then you can’t fuss if I didn’t have time to apply my makeup perfectly this morning and now have to stop to fix it.”

Balthazar’s face went from frustration to anger. His brow creased, he stepped toward Cynthia, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. Cy’s face remained a mask of calm, but I could see a glimmer of alarm in her eyes. With his panther-like moves, lean muscled body, and flashing jade eyes, Baal didn’t even have to shift to his wolf form. Even as a human, he was every inch a sexy, intimidating beast.

“I suggest you forget about your looks and focus on your skills, young lady.”

Young lady? Who the hell do you think you are calling young lady?”

Oh, snap! Hearing the actual curse word instead of her normal h-e-double hockey sticks euphemism, I cringed. Balthazar had hit a hot button with Cynthia. Nothing made her more furious than to hear a grown woman being referred to as anything other than that—a woman. I felt bad for Baal—he hadn’t truly seen Cy’s lawyer feminist side rip into action yet. I shot a glance to Andrew who just shook his head. He’d seen Cy in court and when my best friend planted her hands on her hips, the features of her face tightening to a livid grimace, blue eyes flashing, there was nothing anyone could do but wait for the fireworks to detonate.

Cy strolled toward where Baal stood, her finger already waving as she closed the distance, her words ringing out loud and clear. “I am—or was—one of New Jersey’s top female lawyers, head of my class at Harvard—where I was also the star of the track team two years running—and have killed demons.” Poking her finger into Baal’s chest to accentuate each word, she added, “With. My. Bare. Hands.”

She might as well have poked a brick wall for all the good it did. Baal simply stood there, hands on his hips, dimples definitely not making an appearance as he shook his head, countering, “First of all, it was with an enchanted crystal. You have yet to prove yourself by killing a demon with your bare hands. And second, the track team, college, even your fancy maneuvering in the courtroom are all child’s play compared to the battle we are preparing for. I’m telling you to get your mind off your face and onto saving your life as well as the lives of others.”

Throwing her hands up in the air, she proclaimed, “What do you think I’m doing? Knitting a scarf? I’m working as hard as I can. You are being a total jerk for no reason and that doesn’t do either one of us—or the pack for that matter—any favors.” Rolling her eyes, she muttered the word one more time, “Jerk.”

Baal’s eyes narrowed, his face turning stony as the offending term escaped Cynthia’s lips. “Speak with respect, Cynthia.”

Her brow furrowed, the bridge of her nose crinkling as a challenging look crossed her face. Again, with the finger, she poked at Baal as she spoke. “Or what?”

Mistake. Baal’s eyes cut to the finger that continued to stab into his right pec. Slowly he reached up, removing her weapon of choice from its target. Grabbing her hand and holding it in his, pressed against his chest, he leaned in, his face next to hers, his mouth inches from her ear. Balthazar spoke in a whisper, his words low but not so soft that I couldn’t overhear from where I was standing.

“Or you shall learn what I can do with my bare hand. So, young lady, unless you want me to throw you over my knee and not let you up until your ass matches the color of that spandex you’re wearing, I suggest you stop trying my patience.”

I tried to look like I wasn’t staring as I watched Cy’s face go from a flushed pink to a deep red, her painted mouth forming a shocked ‘O,’ her eyes widening as big as saucers. For the first time since I’d known her, Cynthia, word-meister extraordinaire, was speechless.

Andrew cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable as he ran a hand through his sandy, shaggy locks. “Uh, guys… we should probably—” His words were cut off by the ringing of a loud bell.

Margaret had purchased her own dinner bell, complaining that we never made it to the table on time. It was a replica of the liberty bell, a monstrous thing made of copper and lead. How she could even pick it up was a mystery, but she did. She loved to ring it, giving a shrill cackle every time anyone unfortunate enough to be standing nearby jumped out of their skin with each resounding peal. “Dinner,” she called over the wall of the castle. “Get your scrawny opísthia up here and eat. I didn’t make all this food to stand around and watch it get cold.”

Balthazar gave Cy one more look of steel then released her hand, turning his back to us and striding toward the castle.

Cy shook her blonde curls, looking embarrassed. She knew I had heard his words. Her back stiffening, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, what is his problem? I’ve faced a hundred men in court and beat them all. It takes more than some stupid warning given by a Neanderthal to scare me.”

I knew it didn’t matter if she’d gone up against a million men. My personal experience with not one but two alpha Greek men was enough for me to know Baal’s words had been far more of a promise than a warning, but… well, that was a tidbit I decided to keep to myself as Andrew came over to where we stood.

“What did he say to you, Cy? It looked like it really upset you.” His blue eyes looked over her curiously, waiting for a response.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Her eyes cut to mine, warning me on threat of death not to say a word.

Realizing he would not be getting an answer, Andrew shrugged. “Let’s wash up and change for dinner. Maybe everyone is just getting hangry from all this training. Nothing better than a good hot meal to settle little differences.” He patted his flat six-pack as his stomach gave a growl. “I’m starving.” Linking his arms with ours, Andrew escorted us into the castle, leaving us in order to go to his room to change. I made short work of peeling out of the pants and shirt I trained in and, after a quick wash, pulled on a dress from the wardrobe. Deo tolerated my wearing form-fitting yoga pants and tee shirts and sports bras during the day, but insisted I change for the evening meal. Slipping my feet into a pair of soft ballet flats, I ran a brush through my hair and hurried to Cynthia’s room. I couldn’t help but be concerned about what Cy was going to do about Baal’s thinly veiled threat. She might have allowed him to have the last word before the bell rang, but, well… I knew this woman. If she wasn’t already preparing some sort of surprise counterattack, I’d eat my hat.

“Wow! You sure that’s what you want to wear?” I couldn’t help but ask when she opened the door.

“Absolutely,” she said with a look that told me my friend was in defense mode. Deo preferred me in soft, flowing dresses, which I’d come to enjoy wearing, but next to Cy, I looked like some blushing virgin. She was dressed to kill. Gone was the pink bodysuit. In its place she wore a gown of sapphire blue that clung to every curve of her body—and believe me, she had a lot of curves in all the right places. A pair of silver ‘fuck-me’ stilettos added four inches to her height. “It’s time for some man to learn we no longer live in caves.” Giving her reflection one last look, she met my eyes in the mirror. “I know you have some sort of fascination with that whole ‘drag me off by my hair and spank my ass’ shit, but this is the twenty-first century, not the ice age.”

Not failing to notice that her hands were smoothing down her dress that molded perfectly to her rounded butt, I lifted my hand to gesture to her attire. “Then I suggest you reconsider poking the bear, or at least change. From the way that dress clings to your ass, it’s like you want to make sure Baal can’t help but see his target.” Though she yanked her hands off her ass, from the way she ran her tongue along her lips and then smiled, I knew my advice was going to go unheeded.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t say anything else. The entire walk through the halls I could hear the gears turning in her head and see the expressions moving across her face. I smiled as she straightened her shoulders, fluffed her curls, and put a smile on her face a second before we crossed the threshold to the dining room. There’d be no hat eating, because she was indeed gearing up for a fight. She’d already girded herself for battle—her choice of armor a dress that left far more skin exposed than covered. But her target wasn’t lurking somewhere outside the castle in the dark. No, he was standing across the room, arms crossed over his chest, jade green eyes locking onto her as she sashayed over to Nick. While Baal’s lips compressed and a vein in his jaw began to tic, she gushed her greeting to Nick, giving him a dazzling smile, a flutter of her eyelashes as he lifted her hand to kiss her wrist, and then allowed him to escort her to her chair. From the way Nick grinned, I awarded the first volley of this battle to Cy. But slipping into my own chair Deo held out for me and seeing Baal’s arms drop and his fingers flexing and unflexing at his sides, I also knew that this little war had just begun.

Dinner was… tense. There was a strain between Baal and Nick—not that Nick seemed aware of it—as well as Cy and Baal. Deo and I led polite conversation with Constantine, Pavlos, and Calypsa, while Nick, Alekos, Xander, and Andrew devoured mounds of food. Aunt Margaret refilled plates, and Baal and Cy sat silently, shooting furtive looks across the table at each other and picking at their food.

My dragon also ate quietly, but that was his normal way to dine. He was a man who loved to sit and observe, joining in when he had something to contribute but never one to talk just to hear his own voice. He gave me a look and I saw puzzlement in his expression. When his brown eyes cut from Baal to Cy from time to time, I smiled, knowing Draco was trying to solve the mystery. Unlike him, those two were usually sparring and teasing each other during every meal. My mate might not understand the furtive looks Cynthia would shoot Baal’s way, but I did. She could pretend ignorance as she flirted with Nick, but she was definitely aware of Baal, and with each enigmatic grin he’d give her, and the squirm she couldn’t hide in her chair, I knew she was thinking of his promise. I feared it was just a matter of time before Cy discovered that the Ambrosia men meant business. They’d lay their lives down on the line for the ones they loved, but they’d also never hesitate to toss those loved ones over a knee to blister their butt.

My attention was drawn to the other end of the table when Xander slipped from his chair. I knew he was preparing to shift into his wolf form in order to begin his nightly rounds of checking Ravensloft’s perimeter. I smiled when I saw Aunt Margaret stop him with a hand on his arm, slipping him something wrapped in a linen napkin. The quiet young man smiled and bent to kiss his aunt’s wrinkled cheek. It wasn’t often that one saw Margaret’s softer side, but she definitely had one with those she considered her ‘boys’. She patted his cheek and once he had left, turned and stared directly at me. I swallowed hard, hoping she didn’t consider my witnessing the exchange to be rude and trying not to think about how Deo had hinted that this little old lady had powers I’d yet to see. I really didn’t want to discover what being a frog felt like. I didn’t relax until she gave me a wink and returned to the kitchen.

“Are you going to eat that?” I asked. When Cynthia didn’t even respond to the question, or to the tapping of my fork against the side of her dessert plate, I shrugged and quickly exchanged hers with my empty one. If Baal’s hadn’t been all the way across the table, and it wouldn’t have been considered a bit gauche, I was pretty positive I would have enjoyed three pieces of baklava. Deo might have exaggerated his aunt’s powers to turn people into all sorts of creatures, but nobody could deny she held ultimate dominion over flour, sugar, butter, nuts, and spices. Forget the extra calories; wasting the delicious Greek delicacy with its incredibly flaky crust would just be sacrilegious.

Chapter Two


Cassandra gave a little groan as I scooped her up into my arms at the base of the stairs after we’d said our good nights to our guests. “Are you okay?”

“Just full,” she said, snuggling into my chest. “You know how Deo is always making me eat.”

“Deo, huh?” I chuckled, adjusting her in my arms as I started up the stairs. “I don’t suppose your full tummy has anything to do with that little switcheroo you made with Cynthia’s dessert plate?” I patted her ass, loving the blush that instantly suffused her face.

“Are you saying I’m fat!” She squirmed in my arms but when they didn’t open to release her, she said, “If I’m so heavy, you better put me down before you pull something!”

“I did not say you are fat,” I said, giving her plump buttock a pinch, drawing another squeak. “I love every single ounce of you. I just know that if anyone loves baklava as much as you do, it’s Cynthia. The fact that she didn’t stab you with her fork was quite telling. Get the door for me.” We’d reached our room and after she reached down and opened the door, I entered and dumped my cargo unceremoniously onto the bed. “I don’t think Cynthia could even tell you a single dish served. I’m betting Baal couldn’t either,” I said, kicking off my shoes. “What is up with those two?” I asked as I pulled off my black tee shirt.

“Dunno,” she said, as my head came free and I saw her staring at my chest. She appeared at a loss for words, almost mesmerized as she always seemed to be when I was shirtless. It never failed to move me, seeing the look in her eyes and to see her fingers twitch as she stared at my chest. I moved to stand before her, smiling as she reached out, tracing one of the black lines that covered every inch of my chest with her fingertip.

“What is your infatuation with my tattoo, little one?” I asked as I saw a quiver run through her body. Eyes the color of the deepest emeralds lifted to my face, the desire in their depths causing my cock to do its own twitching. It was as if my dragon’s mark did not only produce heat, but some sort of magnetic field that drew this woman to me.

“It’s sexy. It’s your mark. It’s unique.” She dropped her eyes from mine in order to draw her finger over a spot where my heart beat beneath an intricate spiral. Only once she’d reached the interior point and followed it to yet another wavy line did she look up again. “I swear that even if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never be able to keep my fingers from touching your art. It is what makes you not only my mate, my protector, but, well, my dragon. It’s just… you.”

I could not have asked for a better answer; one I knew came from her very heart. “I like that answer. It makes me happy that you find such pleasure in touching me,” I told her, capturing her hand in mine. Lifting it, I kissed the finger she’d been using to trace my flesh. “I love touching you as well,” I said, drawing her finger into my mouth, sucking on the tip and loving the gasp and shudder the action drew from this incredible woman.

“Hmmm, I love being touched,” she said, her free hand moving to cup my cheek. I released her finger to bend down, pressing my lips to hers in a soft kiss, only to pull away with the sound of the door opening, turning to watch as our co-mate entered the room.

“You two aren’t starting without me, are you?” Deo asked. Before we could speak, he kicked the door closed. “What’s the matter with you, Draco?” he asked, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it onto a chair as he walked across the room to join us. “Our girl isn’t even naked yet.”

I chuckled. “Make up your mind—am I starting without you or not going quickly enough?” I said, causing him to grin and shrug, obviously unconcerned with his ambiguity. I shook my head. “We’ve only just got here and besides, I know how much you enjoy helping to strip our girl.”

“Oh, speaking of stripping,” Cassandra said, bouncing up and down a bit before sitting back on her heels. “Did you know that your cousins go into battle totally nude?” When both Deo and I turned to stare at her, she giggled. “How do you two do that?” she asked, waving the finger I’d just been sucking in the air between Deo and me. “If Draco raises his left brow, Deo, you raise your right.”

“What on Earth does that have to do with stripping?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, it’s just really uncanny. Anyway, I’m not kidding. Nick went from dressed to bare-assed naked in the blink of an eye. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. It reminds me of that comic book character… you know, the Flash? Not that he is naked. Flash, I mean, because believe me, Nick was definitely naked. You should have seen the look on Cynthia’s face. Or Baal’s face when he walked in. Oh, Draco, you were asking—”

“Unless he was asking what is taking you so long to get naked, then we have a problem,” Deo said, cutting her off.

I chuckled and added my two cents. “As fascinating as that story might be, the only person we want to see strip is you.” I reached out and pulled her up to kneel before us. “What was that she said about some comic book?” I asked, looking over at Deo as we both reached for the hem of Cassandra’s dress.

“Something about being naked in a flash,” Deo provided with a grin that had a lovely rush of color moving from under the bodice of her dress, up her neck to stain her cheeks as between the two of us, we lifted the lilac-colored chiffon over her head, the soft material floating to the floor when Deo released it and I tossed it over my shoulder.

With a single flick of his wrist, Deo had the clasp of her bra undone and had pushed the straps down her shoulders and off. God, her breasts were gorgeous, soft and yet firm, tipped with nipples the colors of ripe berries. Berries that were tightening as her chest began to move faster as if she was finding it a bit difficult to draw a deep breath. It took only a soft shove to push her back into Deo’s arms as I pulled her legs out in front of her, slipping her ballet flats from her feet and tossing them aside, not giving a shit where they landed. Deo was already palming her breasts, his thumbs strumming across her nipples as I reached up to hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down and off.

“Beautiful,” I said as Deo lifted her once more to lay her down in the center of the bed. We both began to remove our clothes, our eyes on our mate as her head swiveled between the two of us. Once we were both as nude as she, we watched her smile.

“Who needs the Flash when I have my very own superheroes standing before me?” she asked, lifting her arms toward us and then wincing and giving a soft moan.

“What’s wrong?” Deo demanded, as he took her left hand in his, lowering her arm back to the mattress.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, doing the same with her right arm, my eyes raking over her in search of some sign of injury.

“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just a little sore from training.” When we both pulled back, ready to change our approach so as not to cause her any discomfort, she shook her head, reaching for us again. “No, come back here!”

“Excuse me?” Deo said, standing at the side of the bed, his concerned tone disappearing.

“I mean, um, don’t leave. I need you.” Turning to look at me where I stood on the opposite side of the bed, she said, “I need you both. Please, come back.”

“I don’t know,” I said, keeping my expression stern. “That sounded an awful lot like topping from the bottom to me. What do you think, Deo?” I asked, looking over at our co-mate.

“You’re right, it did. Perhaps a little bit of oil therapy is in order to remind our girl who is in charge?”

“No!” Cassandra gasped, sitting up and slipping her hands between her thighs, her eyes going huge. It was obvious she well remembered the burn of the last oil she’d experienced. Her behavior had earned her a good thick coating of nettle oil that I’d generously applied over her sweet sex. “I just wanted to kiss you… to taste you. I really wasn’t trying to boss you around!”

“Relax, Cassie,” I said, reaching out to pull her hands free. “We were teasing.”

“That’s right,” Deo said, stroking down her arm. “We’re not leaving. You’ve been training very hard, and tonight, we are going to make sure you know how proud of your efforts we are.”

“Really?” she asked, tilting her head back to look at us.

“Yes, and we’re going to start with a massage,” Deo said, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. “With scented oils,” he added.

“Heated by your very own dragon,” I said, bending to kiss her forehead.

A few minutes later, she wrapped her arms around Deo’s neck as he lifted her while I spread a huge bath sheet over the center of the bed. As he settled her onto her back, I rolled the bottle between my palms, warming the oil within. Deo held out his hand, and I poured a stream into his cupped palm. Once both of us had our hands slicked, I set the bottle aside and we knelt up on the bed beside her.

“You’re really going to give me a massage?” she asked softly, her nipples already hard little buttons and the aroma of her arousal joining the scent of lavender from the oil.

“A full-body massage,” Deo said, reaching to lay his hand over her right breast.

“Every inch,” I said, laying my hand over her left. My cock twitched as she moaned and arched her back as I began to gently massage her breast, feeling the point of her nipple pressing against my palm. “And once you are nice and relaxed, every centimeter warm and oily, we are going to fuck you,” I added.

“At the same time,” Deo promised, his hand mirroring my actions. “Me in your sweet little pussy.”

“And me in your tight little ass,” I said.

We were in no rush, enjoying each little gasp and soft whimper, every tiny shudder of bliss she gave as we worked together to fulfill our promise. Every muscle was kneaded, every inch of her soft skin massaged with oil I continued to warm with my heat. I could feel the knots beneath her skin loosen beneath my probing fingertips as Deo and I worked in tandem, moving from breasts to her abdomen to her hips, stroking down to the apex of her mons but not dipping further. When we both slowly pulled her legs apart in preparation of working the muscles of her inner thighs, the sheen coating our target had Deo and I grinning as our gazes met. The moan she gave as well as the glistening on her copper-colored curls was unmistakable. Our girl’s muscles might be relaxing, but her arousal was building.

“Enough massaging… it’s time for the fucking part of my reward,” she said, hands that had been limp along her sides lifting to reach for our erections as if to guide us in our task.

I had to chuckle. Even when she appeared totally compliant, our mate’s spirit never disappeared. Still, she was not the one in charge. With a nod, we had her flipped over in one single move and her next sound she made was a squeal as we gave her matching handprints on her beautiful little ass.

“You wouldn’t deprive us of completing our duty, would you?” I asked, reaching for the bottle again.

“No, but I’m ready now,” she pouted, wiggling her ass. “This is supposed to be a reward, not torture!”

“Ah, but we all know that you enjoy it far more if given a bit of pain along with your pleasure,” Deo said.

The sound of a bit of air escaping the bottle had her head whipping around, watching as I drizzled oil into Deo’s open palm. “That isn’t… what kind of oil is that?” she asked, her eyes narrowing a bit.

I knew from the exaggerated sniff she gave exactly what type of oil she feared it was. “Relax. This isn’t nettle oil and Deo didn’t mean that sort of pain. He’s talking about the pain of waiting, of anticipation that can make time seem to drag. Now, close those beautiful eyes and just relax. After all, I’m pretty positive that you’re going to appreciate a bit of time given to prepare a certain portion of your anatomy before we get to the… what did you call it? Oh, yes, the fucking part.”

Those narrowed eyes widened and her flush returned to stain her face as I reached down and patted her nether cheeks. With a soft mewl, she laid her head down and surrendered.

While Deo’s fingers worked every kink from her shoulders, I began at her feet, massaging each toe, pressing my thumbs into her arches and gently rotating her ankles. As Deo moved down her spine, massaging each vertebra, I kneaded her calves and stroked across the backs of her knees.

When he reached the small dimple right where the crest of her ass began, I slid my fingers along her inner thighs, the moisture coating them no longer provided by just the oil. The aroma of her arousal had my mouth watering as I moved ever closer to her core. Her soft cry was so needy, so primal that I felt a drop of pre-cum slip from the slit of my cock. Deo pulled the globes of her ass apart to expose my final target, that sweet hidden jewel of her back passage. With a grin he bent his head, his tongue coming out to lave a broad swipe across her little pucker.

“Oh. My. God!” she said, shocked but far too relaxed to do more than give a shimmy in a weak attempt to move away. Then again, she had already let it be known that she was ready to move this party along. With a smile, I reached for the final bottle, this one containing a thicker gel, using it to coat not only my fingers, but having to bite back a groan as I applied it over every inch of my cock. The moment Deo lifted his head, I replaced his tongue with my oiled finger. I drizzled a stream into the cleft of her ass, working it around the wrinkled rim of her anus and pressing it inside as I withdrew the single finger I’d worked into her only to add another. As I continued to prepare her, scissoring my fingers, stretching them apart to coax her tight muscle to relax, Deo reversed direction, kissing along her spine and nuzzling the nape of her neck.

“Please, please,” she moaned, her body arching beneath me. “I-I can’t… please. I’m begging you both. Please fuck me!”

I sat back and then scooped her into my arms, kissing her neck, licking that sensitive spot behind her ear as Deo moved into position. Once he was sitting against the headboard, legs spread and his cock pointed at the ceiling, I guided our mate over his lap.

“That’s it,” Deo said as her weight settled onto him. “Lift up, babygirl. Put my cock into that sweet pussy.”

She obeyed, moaning in bliss as his cock disappeared inside her. The moment the last inch had been accepted, I pressed her gently forward, Deo’s arms wrapping around her and helping her to lie on his chest. When she whimpered, I said, “Shh, we’re going to give you all you want, I promise. Now, just relax. Let me in that tight little ass and then, baby, we’re gonna fuck you until you are screaming our names.”

It took a bit longer for me to bury myself, the passage tighter, but the journey every bit as delicious. Inch by inch I watched as she struggled to accommodate me. I knew it was difficult to accept a cock in her ass to start with. Having one pressing into such a tight place when her cunt was already stretched with a cock was much more difficult. Gentle moves, soft strokes along her hip and words of praise and encouragement were given until at last, my balls slapped up against her ass.

“Yes,” she moaned. “This… both of you… this is perfect.”

“No, not yet,” I said as I began to withdraw. “Perfect will be when you come.”

“And then come again,” Deo added as he began to move.

It took no longer than a half dozen strokes in and out of her body for her to come the first time. Her head arched back with her cries as she exploded. The second explosion came as she clawed at the duvet, screaming our names. The room filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and soft feminine cries that had my cock swelling and my heart pounding. God, I loved this woman with every cell of my being.

“Again,” I demanded as I pounded into her ass, my balls drawing up, signaling I was close to erupting.

“I-I can’t,” she cried, her head falling forward.

“You can,” Deo countered, his hands on her hips, holding her in place as he thrust up into her pussy.

“You’ll come with us or so help me, I’ll stripe this ass I’ve buried my cock in,” I said, reaching to fist her auburn tresses, pulling her head back until I could speak against her ear. “Is that what you need to obey, Cassie? My belt across your ass?”


“Then, come with us,” I said, withdrawing almost completely and then ramming in to the hilt. I could feel Deo’s shaft through the thin membrane inside our girl’s body, felt him thrusting just as deep and then we both stilled, our own groans as we began to come turning into bellows as Cassandra shattered, her muscles contracting violently, tightening like vises around the cocks filling her cunt and ass.

Her scream was unlike any she’d ever given and I clamped my mouth over hers, swallowing her bliss as her body continued to convulse. It lasted a lifetime. Time stood still as wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over us… three joined as one in a trinity that would never be broken.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, her body continuing to tremble with little aftershocks well after Deo and I had both withdrawn. As I used a warm washcloth to gently clean her, Deo was discarding the bath sheet and pulling down the duvet and the sheets.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes already fluttering closed. “That was… perfect.”

“It was,” I said but doubted she’d heard me agree. “She’s asleep,” I said quietly as I tossed the cloth aside and moved to tuck her into bed.

“Well, she was right. That was pretty fucking perfect,” Deo said, reaching for his pants.

“No,” I said, stopping him. “You go ahead and rest. It’s my turn to spell Xander.”

“I can do it,” Deo said.

I shook my head. “I know you could, but it’s not necessary. You’re the leader of our pack but let us help. You keep our girl safe while she sleeps. I’ll be back.” Before he could protest, I was dressed. He slid into bed and pulled Cassandra against him, her back to his front. I saw her smile even in her sleep and knew that this was the true meaning of perfection. Seeing the woman you loved so completely sated, so relaxed and surrounded by the love of her mates—there was nothing more perfect than that. With a smile, I slipped out the door.

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