Page 52
Story: Fawn
My whole body is alive: the magic of his tongue sliding all over my swollen folds, the flick as he passes over my clit before dipping lower and trying to poke right up inside me.
I moan, falling back onto my elbows, my legs opening wider. I don’t care about anything except coming once again.
His lips move over my most intimate place like he is hungry for every little taste. And then he closes his lips over my clit, and sucks gently, tearing a climax from me and a squeal of pleasure from my lips.
Chapter Twenty
Wolf
Iam tired and a little cranky. Not in my best frame of mind to be making decisions on anything. It is a lot to take in. The long journey, my constant rutting of Fawn—the newness of our intimate relationship. The proximity of another interested male, now males. The grandeur of this city, which, even by human standards, is spectacular.
It is a lot to take in, not just for me but for Fawn.
You will bear the discomfort for you are a powerful wolf and your shoulders are broad.
I have thought about those words often since we left Blackrock Pack, which has been my only home. I have to give credit to Master Stag, bastard, Seven. He knows how to duel with words.
I am a shifter and familiar with the concept of sharing mates. Yet, it is also something that must be agreed upon by all parties, and any such relationship must be navigated with respect and trust. It would have been different if Fawn and I had a long-established relationship when Seven had turned up. But I hadbarely claimed her when her nature opened a different path before us.
Do I want to share her?
Would I prefer there to be only her and me?
Possibly, probably… Either way, I was not expecting any of this and it requires a mindset shift. She always seemed so innocent to me, and in some ways, she still is. I presumed wrongly that she was a beta. It never crossed my mind that she might be inclined toward taking more than one mate.
I’m not a young wolf, and I have shared females on many occasions, usually mated ones who enjoyed the occasional stimulation of more than one dick—the experiences were exceptionally hot. But shifters do have more permanent relationships of this nature.
Seven hinted that Fawn might want and need more of both kinds.
I am not wholly opposed to the idea of sharing Fawn. I might even be curious, especially while she is in heat, or season as they call it for does. But I have never loved someone before, so that is something to consider. With Fawn, love is like being hit by a bolt of lightning: it is instantaneous and leaves you reeling, a little dizzy, and searching for your wits.
I believe she has permanently stolen some of my wits.
Above all my fears and reservations, I desire only to make Fawn happy, to set her free to be herself, for she has never been allowed this once in her life.
If that means I must learn to share her with other mates, who are not even fucking wolves, then that is what I will do. But I also don’t underestimate the challenges and inevitable jealousy, which I have seen among mated thruples, usually over the most trivial things, for while love is infinite, time is not, and each must have time. And this is not even a thruple involving a man I know well, and this will bring its own challenges.
There is no other path before me. Leaving her is not an option. Doing so would only hurt us both. So, despite my rioting emotions, I trust her with Eiden and join Seven and Nox in their stately day room where we take seats on couches facing a low central table. To the right, open doors lead to a sweeping stone balcony. To the left are the double entry doors to the suite.
A doe enters the room carrying a tray of drinks. She has the distinctive large brown eyes I now associate with deer shifters. But where Fawn’s hair is honey blonde, this one’s is a deep, russet red.
As she sets the drinks to the table, she side-eyes Nox, who sits opposite to me.
He doesn’t pay her any attention that I can tell. Her gaze moves with distaste over me before lighting with open appreciation and no small amount of longing on Seven, who is sitting to my right.
“Is there anything else, my lord?” she says, all fake meekness.
My nostrils flare with second-hand chagrin on Fawn’s behalf. I am a predator and recognize predatory signs in others. This one is female and has mating on her mind.
“No, thank you,” Seven says, barely sparing her a glance. “Please instruct the guards that we are not to be disturbed.”
She bows demurely, her silk dress gaping and offering her audience a fine view of her cleavage.
“Well, she was very fucking obvious,” I say as the door shuts on her.
Nox arches one brow. He has a dark, brooding intensity that rolls off him in waves and has been the quietest of the three so far.
Eiden is the diplomat. He is also sensitive to conflict and grew anxious when Seven and I had a robust discussion earlier.
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