145. Taken
145
Taken
W illow
I thought Valor was the glue that kept this team together. He is. During the day. I guess at night it’s me.
Braveheart is struggling. I don’t think he’s even aware, but he’s making a sound somewhere between a canine whine and a lion-like chuff. It’s continuous except when his lips pull back in a vicious snarl.
Is this going to be safe? I ask.
Is it? Valor echoes.
I hope so, is Braveheart’s answer.
I suppose I should have anticipated this, should have realized two geneslaves with all that animal DNA wouldn’t lie down together like the lion and the lamb. These are two alpha males. It goes against their nature to share a female.
Valor stalks to the bed from where he’d been standing a few feet away. He scoops me into his arms and changes my position on the bed so my head is toward the foot of the bed so when he mounts me he can see Braveheart standing at the doorway. When he climbs onto me, his knees straddling my hips, he keeps his head up, watching his friend.
He stays in that position so long, I twist my head to watch. Valor is eyeing Braveheart like an alpha wolf eyes the beta. When I tip my head back, I see handsome, purple Braveheart returning the same aggressive stare. It shouldn’t surprise me when Valor’s chest vibrates with a low, steady growl.
For a moment, I consider intervening. I imagine myself rolling out from under him, standing and telling them both to knock it off. But that won’t fix things. I guess nature has to take its course. I hope none of the three of us wind up being casualties.
The two keep up their animal noises. Braveheart’s growl is coming strong and steady. I imagine they’re still having their staring contest as Valor rubs his engorged cock along my slit.
Any lubrication I’d produced when Braveheart was playing with my breasts dried up about the same moment I became terrified of the clash of the titans.
It’s going to be fine, Willow.
I don’t know how Valor manages to use the same calm voice with me that he has from the first moment he spoke inside my head, because at the same time, he’s still snarling at Braveheart.
I know this must be terrifying, but Braveheart is trying to make this work. He’s jealous. His animal DNA is fighting this process, this bonding of three. Threesomes aren’t common in the natural world. This doesn’t come easily to us.
Me neither, I admit.
I understand. It’s hard to rein in our animal nature. I’m going to have sex with you. With your permission. I apologize from the bottom of my heart that it won’t be loving like last night. I won’t be looking into your eyes. When it’s done, though, I think this will be behind us.
Maybe I imagine it, but I think after his pretty speech, he whispered under his breath, At least I hope so.
Braveheart
Barely able to think.
Watching.
Willow’s scent.
Need.
Fury.
Willow
I don’t know if Valor stopped our mindlink on purpose, or if he’s so deep into his animal self that he can no longer accomplish it. All I know is that it’s quiet in here. Quiet in my brain. I can’t hear either of their thoughts.
What I can hear is the nonstop growling. It crescendos from time to time, punctuated with snapping jaws and snarling.
Out of the two of them, it’s Braveheart I’m more worried about. My attention is far less focused on what Valor’s doing to my body, and much more attuned to what’s happening behind me. For a moment, I hear him shuffling and wonder if he’s about to leap to the bed and remove someone’s carotid from their throat.
Valor wasn’t kidding when he warned me not to expect the loving treatment from last night. He’s bestial.
His warm mouth latches on my breast, pulling at more than just the nipple, sucking part of my breast into his mouth and then shaking his head. I’ve been trying to keep my eyes closed, but when my lids pop open, his eyes aren’t on me. His gaze is fastened on Braveheart. There’s nothing warm there. It’s feral.
He prowls down my body and thrusts his head between my legs. His goal isn’t to arouse me, this has nothing to do with love or sex. It’s all about a bid for supremacy. He wags his face back and forth between my legs, shaking his head, coating his cheeks with my cream and my scent.
I watch as he rises, holding himself up on his hands, staring at Braveheart, making sure to show him the glistening liquid glazing his skin.
I’m hating this. I feel like a pawn, a thing to be used. Like one of those pull chew toys that two dogs fight over. Once again, I picture rolling out from under him and scolding them both. Refusing to touch either of them until they get their shit together.
Then I take a breath and get a better idea.
They’re geneslaves, complete with animal DNA. They know their capabilities and limits. I love them both. Now I need to trust them both. They think this is the way to solve this problem. I need to believe them.
If this must happen, rather than feeling like a plaything, something to be used, I’m going to turn the tables.
Haven’t I always loved a good beauty and the beast scenario? Well, I’ve got two beasts, haven’t I? Why don’t I lean into it?
I slam my lids shut and decide to embrace this. I’m being devoured by an animal. He quit his staredown contest and is lapping at my entrance. Why don’t I allow this to feel good?
His growls vibrate through me. It’s kinky. Sexy. Pressing my head into the mattress, I widen my legs and slide my fingers over Valor’s bald head, urging him to take me harder.
He progresses from tongue-fucking me to licking my clit. The finesse he displayed last night is long gone. His precision skill is replaced by blunt force trauma. I embrace this, too.
He moves up my body and uses a firm grip to force my thighs wider. The growling is rising in decibels, both from the male on top of me and the one I can’t see. The one behind me.
Valor notches himself at my entrance. He pauses as he slants Braveheart the most feral gaze I’ve ever seen.
Watch, he growls to both of us.
He slides into me in one rough thrust. There’s nothing soft or loving here. It’s brute animal force. Delicious.
I don’t want to shut my eyes. I watch as he makes long, hard, deliberate thrusts, making sure to grunt each time he pounds in to the hilt.
This isn’t making love. It’s fucking. I’m loving it. We all descended from cavemen. I must still have a lot of that left in the recesses of my mind.
He’s slamming into me, making an extra hiproll at the crest of every thrust. He’s growling, Braveheart’s snarling, and I’m moaning in arousal.
Every stab takes me closer to the edge. My fingernails are curling into his mottled blue skin so hard I have no doubt they’re drawing blood.
I wasn’t aware I was close, but without warning, my orgasm overtakes me. It’s not a puny, civilized orgasm like I used to wring out of myself with my vibrator back home. This is rolling with intensity, hijacking my thoughts, pulling me out of my head and forcing every iota of my consciousness to pay attention to the pleasure slicing through my body.
I’m riding a wide wave as my bestial lover rides me, taking what he wants, allowing me to find my own pleasure. And I have.
Braveheart is howling. His bare feet are stomping on the soil as if it’s taking all his control not to pounce on this bed. If he unleashes, I don’t know whether it will be to fuck me or to harm Valor.
My body is settling from my first orgasm, but Valor is still going strong. I mentally fasten my seatbelt, readying myself for my next release, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Valor quickens his pace and pounds into me even harder until he grunts with his detonation.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he says with each pistoning movement of his hips until I feel his hot spray inside me.
He dips his forehead to mine, allows himself one brief moment to gather himself, then rolls us onto our sides, still connected.
His gaze never leaves Braveheart as he growls.
Come fuck her.