Chapter Twenty-Nine
Isobella closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
It didn’t bring the calm she was hoping for.
Rather the heady scent of two men. Two very aroused men.
She couldn’t mistake the hard twin lengths, one pressing at her from beneath her bottom, the other from behind.
They caged her between them, all muscular chests, broad shoulders and savage faces.
It was intoxicating. It was overwhelming.
Edmond stood and backed away from her, and she was equal parts relieved and disappointed.
Wanting them both so badly it hurt, and yet cautious of it.
Dare she admit, she was a little scared of it?
Of how she was feeling? Aubert set her on her feet.
Whether she would disappoint them, not be enough to satisfy two men.
Edmond cupped her cheek, turning her to face him. “Do not fear, chaton. We will be gentle. Give yourself to us, and we will pleasure you in a way no one else could. The two of us and you.”
Her whole body quivered. Oh, how she wanted that. In her mind her wolf howled. A howl of triumph, of acceptance. Of need.
Aubert stood, towering over her. “Trust us. Mate.”
That word—mate—it was her undoing. It was her salvation.
The impetus that broke her from her stasis.
Dared her to be brave. She slid off Aubert’s lap and grasped the hem of her dress, pulled it over her shoulders and dropped it into a heap amongst the meadowsweet rushes on the floor.
They didn’t make a sound, but Aubert’s nostrils flared and, behind her, Edmond’s ragged breathing sent tingles across the back of her neck.
She stripped out of her underdress, her skin prickling and her core clenching. Only her chemise remained.
She’d been naked with them when they’d trained her, but this was different.
The air was as charged as the atmosphere before a storm, her body wired, her heart a jumble of emotions and her mind…
Her mind knew what it wanted. So did her wolf.
Throwing all her fears and insecurities that had flourished under Douglas to the wind, Isobella slipped her chemise off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
The growl from behind her tightened her nipples, and the sweep of Aubert’s gaze over her had her breath catching in her throat.
Had anyone ever looked at her like that?
It was exhilarating. It was liberating. She arched her spine, her breasts heavy and craving their touch.
A moan slipped between Aubert’s lips. That sound, an unconscious expression of his desire, it did things to her insides. It bolstered her courage.
Their reaction to her was primal. They wanted her. Standing there between Aubert and Edmond, the focus of not one but both of them, it was suddenly clear to her. It had never been her that had been lacking.
Aubert took her in. From her head of dark curls that spooled over her shoulder, to the curve of her throat where he longed to sink his teeth and stake his claim.
Across the generous swell of her breasts with their dark nipples he itched to have cupped in his hands.
Past her navel to the strip of hair at the crux of her thighs, and all the way to her cute toes with a hint of color on her nails.
He clenched and unclenched his hands. He wanted nothing more than to toss her down, slide between her golden thighs and fill her with his cock.
Aubert steadied himself. The floor was hard and cold, and the cot behind him narrow with nothing but a rough blanket.
The training room was not the place he would have envisioned taking his mate for the first time.
Nor had he envisioned taking his mate with an audience, with his brother wanting his share.
Yet here they were, with Isobella naked and willing to be theirs, and he could wait no longer to put his hands on her.
From the heat in his eyes, Edmond was of the same mind.
They would make do. They would make this work.
He reached over his head and pulled his tunic off, tossing it on the cot.
Isobella didn’t move, but her breathing hitched and her wide-eyed gaze followed him, lingering on his chest. Aubert tracked her tongue as it blazed a path over her lower lip.
She liked what she saw, and he resisted the urge to puff out his chest. He needed to redeem himself, but if the look in her eyes was anything to go by, he was making progress. This was only the beginning.
Edmond slipped his tunic over his head and set it aside, and it amused Aubert to see Isobella struggling with where to look—at him or Edmond. She took a step toward them, her fingers curling.
“It is only fair,” said Edmond, standing and reaching for the laces on his breeches, “do you not think, Aubert, if Isobella is naked, we should be, too?”
Aubert wholeheartedly agreed. He wasted no time shucking his boots, undoing his laces and dropping his breeches.
He kicked them aside. Her open mouth and greedy stare were a balm to his soul and tinder to his arousal.
It streaked through him, burning a path to his groin and sparking a fire in his balls.
Isobella’s gaze dropped, and Aubert could have sworn he had forgotten how to breathe.
Then Edmond dropped his breeches, and her attention flitted between him and his twin.
His brother’s nostrils flared, and the rapid thump of Edmond’s heart beat in time with his.
They stood there, the three of them, in the glow of the coals in the brazier. Anticipation hung in the air, yet still they hesitated. He caught the warning in his brother’s gaze, his message clear. Slow. Gentle.
Edmond was right. Rushing her was not the best battle plan but…
merde, they were known for their brute force.
For their unflinching savagery in battle.
Especially him. Off the battle ground, Edmond had finesse and charm, Aubert his stoic silence.
He would have to dig deep. Call on every ounce of discipline not to rush her as though she were the marauding army, or a prize he must fight for.
To open himself up and break through his usual reticence. He would do it. For Isobella.
Edmond broke their stalemate, grabbing the chair and setting it behind Isobella.
Edmond approached her from behind as Aubert stepped forward.
As in battle, he and his brother were in accord—their thoughts and their actions in harmony.
It took every bit of his discipline to slow his steps, to hold his wolf in check and not snatch her off the ground and deposit her on the chair.
Still, she backed away from him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her brown eyes wide, until her legs hit the chair.
At her back, Edmond settled his hands on her shoulders.
One more step from him, close enough that they were almost touching, and a gentle pressure from Edmond, and she was in the chair, staring up at him.
He leaned over her, dropped a kiss on her lips as he planted his hands on her legs and parted her thighs.
The scent of her arousal had his wolf pushing forward, and his canines punching through his gums. Bite. Mark. Claim.
He shoved his darker half down deep. His needs could wait.
So could Edmond’s. They had told Isobella she was important to them.
She was. The most important thing in the world.
Now they would prove it. Show her how precious she was to them.
He would claim her, but not yet. Right now, he planned to wipe out the memory of every lover who had gone before them. There would be only her and them.
Aubert vowed he would be the man she needed him to be.
Isobella had never been more flustered, or more aroused.
Edmond’s hands caressed her shoulders, and Aubert…
Every taut muscle, every ragged breath told her he was struggling for control.
He wasn’t the only one. From the moment they had dropped their pants, her wolf had been battering at her psyche.
It wanted out. It wanted a piece of these two magnificent, sexy-as-hell warriors.
Men who wanted her. They loomed over her, all muscle and aroused male, and it was all she could do to keep her seat, to keep her wolf locked down tight and not reach for them.
“We thought we had lost our chance for a true mate.” Edmond leaned down, his breath warm on the shell of her ear. “Then we found you.”
He slid his hands over her shoulders, to the tops of her breasts, teasingly close to nipples that burned for his touch.
“Never would we have imagined a woman who would accept both of us.”
He filled his big hands with her breasts, and Isobella’s mouth parted on a silent moan.
“You are an incredible woman, Isobella. Let us show you what it means to be our mate.”
Then Aubert, silent, stoic Aubert, dropped to his knees.
With his large hands on her spread thighs, and a hint of fang peeking out from beneath his lip, Aubert’s attention was not on her face.
Nor on the glorious things his brother was doing with his hands—twirling her nipples between his fingers, pinching them, soothing away the bite of pain that shot straight to her clit with his calloused palms. Not even her whimper as she thrust her breasts into Edmond’s palms could break Aubert’s focus.