Claimed by the Mate, Volume 1 (9 page)

She didn't have to consider his words at all. Two men she liked, one who'd already brought her to an absolutely mind-blowing orgasm with his hands and mouth? She'd obviously gotten past the fact that she was lying here naked in front of them, so yeah, she could get on board with more. Even so, she kept her eyes closed, easily re-entered her fantasy world, and nodded.

Brad slipped the blindfold over her eyes, and Cain was right. She relaxed even more.

She wasn't ready to watch what they did. She only wanted to feel.

Cain kissed her forehead. She knew it was him because his short facial hair tickled. It was much softer than it looked and she really wanted to rub her face against his, but his kiss had been so quick, there hadn't been time. The recording he'd been playing changed. The wild sounds were there, but the long, sad howls of the wolves were different, more upbeat, if that was at all possible, and there was a subtle but sure tempo behind the natural sounds. It had to be a drum, but it was timed precisely to the beat of her heart.

Or was her heart syncing to the beat of the drum?

At first, nothing felt different. The massage continued, though Cain and Brad's pacing was smoother, as they worked in time to the steady tempo filling the background more with each passing moment. The sound had been muted earlier, but now it filled the room, a low thrumming that could have been blood flow or a beating heart. She felt the sound deep inside, a primal beat that turned her body liquid, warmed her inside and out.

Cain's big hands cupped her breasts, and she thought of Brad's touch last night, the way he'd pinched and tugged her nipples until she saw stars. Cain massaged her, though, almost as if he purposefully ignored her nipples. It took all her willpower not to arch into his warm hands.

Not to beg for more.

Cain moved to her right side and she sensed Brad at her left. The two of them stroked her from shoulders to toes, their hands slick with oil. Hands along the outside of each leg moved slowly inward, sliding gently over her calves, her sensitive inner thighs, following the crease between her thigh and groin.

She thought of them as if they were disembodied things—not Cain and Brad, but two powerful sets of masculine hands stroking her body in a graceful dance of sensation. They massaged her breasts, teased her nipples—stroking, brushing, and then gently pinching. She wanted more, wanted that pleasure-pain that transferred so easily to her clit, but they teased her until she was slowly writhing on the table.

Strong hands pinned her ankles, and she arched her back in frustrated response.

The tempo of the drums beat faster, the thrumming deeper, invading her bones. Her heartbeat leapt, racing to catch the drums, her body slowly twisting and arching in response to the seduction of touch. Strong fingers pinched her nipples harder; other disembodied fingers traced her labia, barely connecting with her greedy body as they circled her clit, driving her insane with featherlight touches that led her close to but not over that precipice of orgasm.

She sucked in a breath as a mouth covered hers. Brad's lips. She recognized their fullness, the smooth upper lip where Cain's was prickly from his moustache, the taste that was all Brad. His tongue thrust against hers as fingers drove deep between her legs and her inner muscles clamped down, clinging in spasmodic response to such an intimate invasion.

She was still on the edge, her body straining to reach the precipice, but they held her there—Brad with his deep kisses and his fingers working the nipple on her left breast while Cain's fingers filled her sheath, his thumb circled her clit, and his other hand tugged at her sensitive nipple.

She tried to picture them, two powerful, sensual men pleasuring her while her body bucked and writhed beneath their expert touch, but the drums in the background hammered harder, faster, and her body followed, so close, so damned close, wiping everything else from her mind.

She sensed a shift in the air and the hands disappeared. Sensation fell away and she wanted to scream at the lack. The drums beat just as hard, pounded every bit as fast, and she lay there, alone and panting.

Lips pulled at one nipple; fingers plucked the other. She groaned and clutched the sides of the table to keep from arching right off the thing. Strong hands parted her thighs, holding her down, opening her wide. A tongue stroked from her perineum to her clit, circled that sensitive bud, and then drove deep.

Was it Brad? She couldn't tell. Honestly? She didn't care. All that really mattered was that he didn't stop!

Mouth at her breast, mouth between her legs, and they worked together, sucking and licking, pinching and stroking as the tempo increased and the drums grew louder, as her heart raced and tiny lights flashed behind her blindfolded eyes.

Her body raced the drums and there was a thundering in her heart, in her blood, until the tongues stroking and hands touching coalesced into a single firestorm of need, of desire and sensation, and then it was too much, too perfect.

Too amazing to be possible, and yet she was flying, screaming out as wolves howled and drums thundered, her body tensed, her back arched, and she lost herself amid a climax unlike anything she'd ever known, a celebration of her body that shredded her soul and repaired it, better, stronger, more complete, than she'd ever been before.

Soft touches brought her down. Sweet kisses led her into a quiet pool of sensation where she needed only to relax, to let her mind and body melt away, suffused in pleasure, enervated, entirely complete.

*   *   *

Cain pulled the blankets back on Cherry's bed while Brad carefully wiped away the oil they'd rubbed over her body. She slept soundly, the culmination of a long day hiking, a good meal, spectacular wine, and the best sensual massage Cain knew he and Brad had ever given anyone. She was exactly the woman they wanted, and if she didn't want them it was going to be tough to get over her.

He hardly knew her, and already she fit into his life—their lives—more comfortably than he could ever have imagined. Was one week going to be enough to convince her?

Brad carefully scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the clean sheet and Cain pulled the covers down so they could tuck her feet inside. The nights here could be cold. He moved toward the head of the bed and lightly worked the knot out of her hair.

The long, dark tresses felt like silk between his fingers. His eyes burned with the thought of not keeping her forever and he wiped away a tear he refused to let fall. Raising his head, he caught Brad watching him.

“Well?”

Brad whispered, but Cain clearly heard him. He shook his head. “I never imagined … Damn, Brad. She's beautiful and smart and funny, and she loves wolves. It really couldn't get any better. She's almost too good. Scary good.”

“Don't do that to yourself, Cain. You're starting to sound like Trak. He's all about doom and gloom, though it's nice not to have you teasing me about falling so hard and fast for her.”

Cain laughed softly. “Yeah. I take it all back. C'mon. Help me clean this stuff up so we can get out of here and get some sleep.”

They had the table folded up, the candles extinguished and stashed in their container, and all of Cain's equipment ready to go. Brad stood by the bed for a moment, watching Cherry sleep. “I don't want to leave her,” he said.

“Help me carry this stuff back to the lodge.” Cain walked over to stand beside Brad. “I don't think she'd mind a bit if the wolves spent the night.”

“Do you think it's safe? What if she makes the connection? How will we explain how they got inside?”

Cain could tell Brad really wanted to believe it was okay. “We'll just tell her we weren't comfortable leaving her alone sleeping so soundly, the wolves were waiting for us outside, and we asked them to stay. I think it sounds believable.”

Brad's soft laughter had Cain grinning in response. “Good,” he said. “Then if Trak gets pissed, I can blame you.” Brad picked up the massage table and waited by the open door.

“He blames me for anything bad that happens anyway.” Cain grabbed the tote bags. He took a quick look around the dark cabin, but his gaze lingered on Cheraza, sleeping so soundly.

They had a lot of mountains to climb with this one. Then he followed Brad out the door.

Chapter 9

Tuesday

She came awake in the early dawn darkness, blinking slowly, remembering. Cain's powerful hands stroking so gently, Brad's sweet kisses, his touch gentle when needed yet more than capable of so much strength. Both men treating her like spun glass one moment, like a powerful woman the next.

She'd never, not even in her wildest dreams or the sexiest romance she'd ever read, experienced anything remotely like last night. A massage like that had to be illegal, but it had definitely done the trick. Her muscles had been screaming after the hike yesterday. She didn't feel sore anywhere this morning. Of course, she hadn't tried to move anything, either.

She hadn't slept as soundly in way too long. She felt totally rested, and since she didn't remember coming to bed, her men had to have tucked her in.

The giveaway was the fact that she was naked.

She never slept naked, but how could it matter when they'd both spent hours touching her, kissing her, doing things she'd never imagined? She'd been naked, and she'd been fine with it. She was actually sorry the guys had been dressed. Next time she'd ask for a naked massage.

If there ever was a next time.

Naked or not, she was so toasty warm that she just closed her eyes again, lay there a moment, and tried to recall the details of last night. There'd been dinner with everyone at the lodge, and then Brad had walked her back to the cabin, Cain had arrived, and—

Her stomach clenched with remembered desire and she shivered. Aroused, chilled, she tried to hug herself, but her arms were trapped. In fact, the blankets were pulled over her so tightly that she couldn't move at all. That's when she heard soft snoring to her left … and her right. Had Cain and Brad stayed in her …

Rolling her head to one side and then the other, she stared at the dark shadows on either side and bit back a laugh. That explained the snoring—and the warmth. It was hard to be cold with furry wolves pressed against each side of her, trapping her beneath the covers.

She recognized the two she thought of as “her” wolves. She tried to sit up, but they had her trapped so completely she couldn't even scoot out from under the blankets.

It appeared she'd awakened her bedmates.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” The green-eyed beast raised his head and yawned, and his look was so disgruntled she almost apologized for waking him. The brown-eyed wolf merely raised his eyelids and stared at her, almost as if he was waiting to see what her reaction to waking up with two wolves in her bed would be.

She watched him, enjoying the moment. This was its own kind of magic, to wake up with two beautiful feral creatures lying on her bed, almost as if they protected her. She scratched behind the silver wolf's ears and he groaned. Then she did the same for the brown-eyed guy, who rolled over on his back, obviously hoping for a tummy rub.

She managed to scoot up and out from under the blankets, which left her breasts exposed, but she figured that if she could show them to Brad and Cain, wolves weren't a problem.

Rubbing one wolf's head and now the other one's belly, she watched the two of them for a moment, studying their reactions to her touch, the way they subtly interacted with each other. Finally, she asked, “How did you guys get in here last night? Did Brad and Cain let you in?”

The green-eyed wolf made a little huffing noise, rolled his head to one side, and stared at the door.

“That's either a ‘yes' or an ‘I want out.' Either way, I think you boys need to go outside.” She tried to shove the blankets back, which wasn't easy with wolves pinning them down. The wolves showed no inclination of moving. “Off the bed. Both of you.”

They both gazed at her as if they didn't believe she meant it. “Now, gentlemen.”

This time they both jumped down, though the brown-eyed wolf looked so sad she almost gave in and let him stay. He certainly didn't act like he wanted to leave. She walked across the room to the door, and even though the sun wasn't up and there probably wasn't anyone out there, she stood out of sight behind the door when she opened it. She'd never been comfortable under any circumstances parading around naked.

Though being naked certainly hadn't been an issue last night. The two huge wolves slowly walked outside and then trotted down the steps. The brown-eyed wolf paused at the bottom and turned to look over his shoulder, and she felt as if her entire body flushed dark red from his intent look, which was just weird. She didn't remember blushing all that much last night, but maybe that was because what she remembered was so far beyond embarrassment it made her shiver just thinking about it.

She quickly closed the door. She hadn't expected that all those little muscles between her legs would clench in sympathy, and it was just so awkward with both wolves staring at her. She'd noticed the green-eyed wolf's nose was twitching.

She'd been so turned on, remembering Brad and Cain last night, and the wolf was staring at her making sniffing noises?

“Cherry, girl, you've read one too many paranormal romances.” In those stories, the shape-shifter could scent his mate's arousal. Pure fantasy, and an active imagination could get a girl into trouble, except there was no denying the fact that the wolf had been watching her, his head raised with his nose in the air. Sniffing.

Could he smell her arousal? He was an animal, damn it, with a good nose, so even if he could smell her, it didn't matter. She looked out the window. Both wolves had disappeared into the forest. She turned around and leaned against the door and tried to make sense of last night and this morning. Except the more she thought about it, the less sense anything made.