Beasts in Winter [Tangere Tales 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 10

  Another deep intonation came from the lover at her front, plumping and squeezing her breasts, making them so much more sensitive as he laved her nipples.

  She couldn’t see, and she didn’t care. She just knew they were here and she needed them. Needed them desperately.

  The lover behind her moved down the bed beneath the covers and spread her thighs wide. A deep breath was followed by a soft growl as those rough hands slid along her inner thighs until his fingers parted her labia wide. “Such a sweet cunt, petite ange. Si luxuriante.”

  His tongue penetrated her, taking her breath away, before her other dream lover trailed kisses from her cleavage up her throat to her mouth. His lips were soft and warm, cajoling her to let him in. She gave in without hesitation and moaned as her hands encountered his broad bare chest and his rock-hard arms. His skin was so hot her fingers absorbed it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder.

  Her lover beneath the covers sucked at her clit, drawing that tender sensitive nub and the flesh surrounding it between his lips and rubbing her with his tongue, all while holding her hips in a tight grasp so she couldn’t move freely. Being tethered like that only ramped her arousal higher. His deep chuckle against her clit told her that he enjoyed her struggle.

  The orgasm spiraled tight and then billowed outward as they kissed and licked her through each rapturous wave until she was a trembling heap.

  She bit her lip as the waves of heat coursed through her in the aftermath, and she wanted to see their faces, wanted them to see how they’d pleased her, and this time she wanted to do the same for them.

  As before, the deep voice was velvety at her ear. “Don’t trust in appearances, mon ange. Trust in your heart.”

  Frustration welled inside of her as their grasp receded, and she wanted to scream. “Wait! If this is a dream, this is my dream.”

  Their hands hesitated on her skin.

  “Hell yeah, it’s my dream, and I want you to stay. Stay until I sleep.”

  More hesitation. And then the voice and those wonderful warm lips at her ear returned. “Oui, mon ange. Until you sleep.”

  “Promise?”

  “Oui.”

  Excellent.

  She slipped down the bed before they could react, and just to be on the safe side, she spread her legs and kneeled so she had one knee between their legs and her ankle locked around their calves. This was her dream, and they weren’t going anywhere unless they wanted to wrestle with her.

  Just to put that thought to rest before they had a chance to react, she licked her lips and engulfed one big cock in her mouth. A deep groan sounded and callused fingers slid over her cheek. “Ange!”

  While she sucked at his cock, she slid her fingertips up the inner thigh of her other lover. The sparse hair on his legs tickled her fingers, and he tensed up and moaned when she cupped his heavy sac and then wrapped her hand around his thick, hard cock. His erection was so hot, as hot as the one in her mouth, and she sucked at one cock while she stroked the other up and down, switching occasionally until they were both writhing on the bed, cursing in French and praising her boldness, pleading to an enchantress for mercy. The words barely registered, but the emotions were clear and beyond the nonsensical groaning of men in the throes of passion. Her pussy clenched with renewed arousal, needing their heat, to be filled tight.

  She whipped the covers back and could barely see the shadowed but substantial males stretched out on the bed. Her hair was wild and standing up everywhere, she was sure, and she said, “Now. Fuck me now.”

  The bed shook and strong but gentle fingers grasped her hips from behind. She arched her back and teased the head of his cock as he slid it back and forth in her slick pussy juices. “Now! Please!”

  She clenched the sheets and moaned ecstatically when he gave her what she asked for. He slid deep with the first thrust, and he growled as he panted and struggled to be still, giving her a chance to adjust to his tremendous girth. His palms smoothed up her back, and she gasped when he wrapped his arms around her and trapped her arms against her sides and held her prisoner in his grasp as he began to thrust, long, hot strokes deep inside her. He never said a word, but she could feel his pleasure in every impassioned sound he made.

  Something hot brushed her parted lips, and she didn’t hesitate to lick hers before she tilted her head forward to suck the enormous cock of her other bed partner into her mouth. She loved the way he tasted, loved the way he sounded as he took his pleasure. He gathered her hair into a loose bundle so it didn’t get in her way and whispered encouragement as his shaft grew harder and thicker between her lips. Heat and lust pulsated through her from the lover whose cock she sucked to the one who fucked her.

  Her sex clenched tight around one cock as her orgasm loomed just out of reach, and she flexed her hips, seeking that last little bit of stimulus. A hard pop was followed by a wave of delicious heat searing through one of her ass cheeks, and she screamed, her climax ripping through her like a tidal wave, and she bucked against the one fucking her from behind while sucking the cock between her lips with even greater gusto until he suddenly grasped her shoulder.

  “Release, mon ange! I’m going to come!”

  My dream! My rules!

  She gasped in a quick breath and kept sucking his cock while tilting her hips and clenching her throbbing pussy muscles, determined to have her sex dream her way. Looking up, silver-gray eyes glowed like moonlit clouds as he gazed down at her, and her heart throbbed in recognition.

  Come for me, my beasts!

  They both drew sharp breaths at the same time, and the one in front of her let out a guttural roar that shook the rafters, and she swallowed each burst of his cum, sucking him dry until he finally stroked her jaw with callused trembling fingers, signaling her to release him.

  Her lover fucking her from behind squeezed her tightly and pressed his face to her shoulder as he surged over her, filling her with his cock over and over.

  His lips dragged against her shoulder, and his growl went straight to her center. Waves of ecstasy lifted her up once more as she felt his teeth drag across her skin. She screamed as his teeth gripped the flesh between her shoulder and neck and then bit her.

  Lightning blazed white and hot behind her eyelids as she came undone again.

  She tried to form a smile but couldn’t as she felt their warm lips brushing against her skin, heard affectionate murmurings to her in a language she couldn’t understand, but she knew what they said anyway.

  A last wave of ecstasy shimmered through her as the one behind her withdrew, licked at her shoulder, and then kissed the spot he’d bitten.

  My dream.

  Trust in your heart, mon ange.

  * * * *

  She woke to a sunny room, panting and flailing around. “What?” The room was neat as a pin, as always. The covers made neatly on the bed with her still under them, the pillows exactly where she’d tugged them to her before falling asleep.

  The shift whispered against her nipples as she sat up, and her pussy pulsed in response, as though she’d had an aftershock. But no other trace of the most amazing animalistic wild sex she’d ever…

  “Wait,” she said, touching the delicate ruffled neckline of the shift. “I went to bed naked, didn’t I?”

  The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and no sign of a night’s debauchery lingered in the room. She fell back against her pillows. “It was another dream.” She smiled as she stretched and felt the silky shift caress her skin. “But what a dream! Holy moly!”

  Chapter Eight

  The winter days continued in that manner for Bestiale, his half-brother and sister, and their bewitching guest. Her desire to return to her home, her friends, and her uncle was unabated, but she seemed to understand that they were stuck as much as she was and didn’t make demands she knew they couldn’t fulfill.

  Their conversations at night usually centered around her explorations that day, and with Charmeur’s and Fleur’s gentle prompting,
he answered her questions and told her stories of the castle and its former inhabitants, always careful to never reveal their secret, even when she ventured direct questions about the stained glass window. He enjoyed telling her amusing stories and craved the musical sound of her laughter and her smiles.

  In Bestiale’s heart, love for her grew with each passing day. He wanted for her to be able to look upon him and not see the terrifying beast but the man he’d formerly been. She was an heiress in her world. Even if he returned to his former appearance and the curse was lifted, would she settle for a commoner?

  The night Charmeur had bitten her in the sensual dreamscape he’d been as mortified as Bestiale at the thought of hurting her. They’d been animalistic, giving in to her demands and demanding in return.

  The following morning Bestiale and Charmeur had watched her in the oval mirror located in the master chamber in the west tower. This mirror was the mate to the smaller one in Angel’s bedroom.

  But it wasn’t voyeuristic tendencies that had motivated them to observe her as she went through her morning toilette. It was concern. They’d wanted to please her, yes, but Charmeur had worried he’d left a mark on her shoulder when he’d bitten her. Bestiale was concerned because he’d been hard-pressed to contain his beast, as well, and might’ve left bruises on her fair skin. In the dreamscape they couldn’t be certain if their actions would translate physically.

  They’d been enthralled, watching as she’d climbed from her bed, taking the time to stretch luxuriously after removing her shift, and running her hands over her bare, slightly flushed skin. She closed her eyes and smiled, her face tipped upward as she’d stroked the backs of her fingers and her fingernails along the sides of her breasts and her ribcage before hugging herself. She’d cupped her breasts, a sensual smile on her face as she gently tweaked her nipples and then slid her fingers between her thighs and mewed. A sweet, satisfied sound.

  Bestiale had placed a palm over the mirror, blocking their view. Charmeur had nodded, his breathing coming more rapidly as she stretched again and walked into the bathroom. No mark was present on her shoulder or her hips.

  On the way out of the room, Charmeur had murmured to him through their telepathic link. At least she’s not cowering beneath the covers in sheer terror, wondering where the bite mark had come from. I couldn’t help myself.

  I wouldn’t have been able to either, Bestiale replied mutely, as well.

  I wondered why you didn’t beat me to a pulp. It’s that way with you, too?

  His growl had been his assent. The territorial beast in him wanted to claim her, too.

  Angel seemed to enjoy exploring the castle, and Fleur told them of her adventures every day, including how many times she got turned around and lost in the castle or the gardens, only to have Fleur lead her back to familiar ground.

  And each day she sat in front of the stained glass window, usually before the dinner bell rang, but the enchanted window had not yet revealed more of their story. Bestiale, Charmeur, and Fleur waited impatiently for the window to divulge more. The enchantress had her reasons, he knew.

  And Angel remained mute about what the window had already shown her, for reasons of her own, as well. Each night, they went to her in the dreamscape, unable to stay away, especially after the night she’d called her lovers beasts. Some nights she struggled within the dream, demanding they stay, which they did. And other nights she allowed them to take charge, bringing her to fulfillment and then slipping away.

  She’d cry out in frustration as if she didn’t want them to depart, but depart they must. Each night he asked her to trust in her heart.

  Bestiale prayed, hoped, and waited for the enchantress to make her next move. He was as frustrated as the others. Making love to Angel within the dreamscape was better than nothing, but he wished to be with her in his real corporeal form. That would never happen in his beastly manifestation.

  Every evening she refused their proposal. As time went on, she began to apologize with each rejection. They accepted her refusal without debate or comment, reluctant to upset her or make her feel guilty. She seemed as stuck as they were.

  One day, as he looked out of the leaded windows in the west tower, Bestiale wondered if the enchantress had forgotten them. Behind him, the master chamber lay in luxuriant readiness while tormenting him with its chilling emptiness. The warmest parts of the castle were the rooms Angel spent the most time in.

  Charmeur joined him at the window, their beastly visages reflected disjointedly in the diamond-shaped panes of leaded glass. The snow was heavy last night. I didn’t sleep well.

  “Nor did I,” Bestiale replied out loud. There was no danger of his one-sided conversation being overheard in this remote room, and Fleur would alert them if Angel was near.

  Do you think we’re doing something wrong? We pleasure her every night, which, believe me, is no burden at all, and the castle sees to her every need, as well. What are we missing?

  Bestiale shook his head, his thoughts clouded with images of her between them.

  She is stubborn. Charmeur purred deep in his throat as he rubbed the back of his head, obviously remembering the night before. Using a great handful of Charmeur’s hair, she’d anchored his mouth to her gloriously slick cunt until he’d licked and nibbled her into one of several orgasms. And demanding.

  “At least in her dreams. She seems pleased to see us in the evening but still startles a little when we encounter her in the castle.”

  Charmeur turned to him, his eyes widening. I have an idea! He ran from the room, his long leonine tail swooshing as he passed through the opened door.

  “What idea?” Bestiale called, running to catch up.

  We are in a rut, thinking if we keep asking her to marry us she will eventually change her mind due to boredom. I know I would get bored, too. We’ve given her leave to explore the house and explore she has. What she needs is an adventure. And I know just the thing.

  “Bon Dieu, qu’est-ce maintenant? What now?”

  * * * *

  Charmeur chuckled through their mental connection as he worked opposite of him, sprinkling the fresh red rose petals on the pristine new snow. His brother was predictably unhappy with the plan.

  No more dreams? Bestiale groused as he spread the fragrant petals in a trail down the avenue of statues, leading to the hedge maze. That’s your idiotic plan? It’s the only time we have with her when she isn’t on her guard!

  Bestiale had become more than just attached to Angel, both in and outside of the dreamscape, and it was much the same with Charmeur. He’d grown up with every want gratified and now lived in a castle where every desire was granted instantaneously, but the one thing he desperately needed he could not have, not unless he sacrificed himself and his desires to obtain it. He understood now, and soon his brother would, too.

  And she knows she’s dreaming. Do you think she would be so bold and demanding while awake? No! She sheds her inhibitions in her sleep and thinks no one is the wiser. We must show her that we’re more than beasts when she is awake. We must propose every night, I know, but we can spend time with her during the day without that hanging over our heads. You’re making it crooked! Don’t crush them! He pointed at the snow where Bestiale had crushed the fragrant petals beneath his big boots.

  “Damn it!” Bestiale said out loud with a guttural growl, backing up and then holding up one hand. “It’s impossible to handle something so delicate with these”—he lapsed into creative cursing that finished with—“damned paws!”

  Charmeur stepped across the narrow path they’d created and put a hand on Bestiale’s chest. Brother, we must finish this quickly and quietly before she comes out for her daily walk. Stay in a straight line. We still need to set up her diversion.

  Right, Bestiale said with a sharp nod, and they went back to setting the petals in a pair of straight lines. When she came onto the terrace, Charmeur’s plan was for her to spot the bright color in all the endless sea of sparkling white and be tempted to f
ollow and see where it led.

  The first indicator that their surprise had gone awry occurred a short time later when he was startled by a chilling splat to the back of his head. The snow that landed in his coat collar went down into his shirt onto his work-heated skin, startling a shout from him. Merde!

  “Ah!” Bestiale shouted as he reached up to the back of his head but not soon enough to stop the snow from falling into his broad collar, as well. “What in the fuck—”

  Their answer came in the form of a musical giggle from behind the last row in the hedge maze, a short distance away. Her red-hooded head popped up, revealing her beautiful flushed cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, and they both stood there gaping like simpletons as she pitched snowballs that splattered on the centers of both of their chests.

  “My targets are usually a little livelier, but if you want to stand there for sharpshooting practice, I’m game!” she shouted as she crouched and then stood with more snowballs in both hands.

  Still standing there like idiots, Bestiale said, “How did we not scent her?”

  Secretly pleased she’d gotten the better of them, Charmeur chuckled in their telepathic link and said, Could the enchantress be masking her scent? Do you get the feeling—

  “That the enchantress is assisting her? Yes, sometimes.” Bestiale looked down at his chest as a second snowball pelted his sternum. “She has excellent aim.”

  Charmeur snorted. Let’s hope so, brother, otherwise we’d better—ugh! he gasped, clutching his stomach and covering his crotch with the other hand. Take cover! Fuck! How many of those snowballs did she make? They ran to a nearby tree, not nearly sufficient cover under which to make snowballs of their own.

  A rattling and snorting sound came from the hedge nearby. Was some new magic afoot?