Double Your Pleasure Bundle (59 page)

He stares at me like I've lost my mind.

“What?”

“I—I just—you're a braver soul than I.”

“Well surely you two—”

He shook his head. “Giving. Not receiving.”

Seth catches that part of the exchange. “
Yet
.”

I can't help but laugh at the look on Lucas's face. “Aww, poor guy. Now you've done it.”

Seth turns back to us with a palmful of lube, stroking it onto his cock and his fingers. For a moment, I forget his ultimate purpose in the thrill of watching him touch himself, knowing he's thinking of me, and all of the things he could do with me.

“Ride him, cowgirl.” He jerks his chin from me to Lucas, and I oblige, shoving Lucas back to the bed and straddling him. Lucas strokes a strand of hair out of my face, a spare moment of distraction before I slide him home in one long stroke. Despite the long pause after Seth stopped licking me, I'm more than wet enough. Just the thought of him inside me, of him and Seth
both
pleasing themselves with me...

Seth strokes my lower back and stands between Lucas's legs, draped over the side of the bed. He gently urges me into a rhythm, his hand catching with Lucas's on my hip, and the awareness of him watching and touching himself spurs me to throw a glance over my shoulder, to see if he's enjoying the show.

His hand glides up my back, urging me forward until my breasts drag against Lucas's chest with every motion. Lucas gasps, his lips finding mine, as Seth's hand traces its path back down my back, and then lower, between my cheeks, to my tight rear entrance. He strokes the lube into me as I ride Lucas, going slowly as his finger sinks into me further with every motion. I squeeze my eyes shut, accustoming myself to the sensation. It's painful, yes, but almost closer to the stretched sort of pain I felt losing my virginity than to anything actually fearsome to me. Lucas catches my eye, still hesitant, and for his benefit, I let out a moan rather louder than he's heard from me today. It's the intent, not the volume, as far as I'm concerned, but both men react to the vocalization, Lucas's cock flexing inside me and Seth moaning behind me.

In time, Seth adds another finger, running his other hand over my hips and thighs as I relax into it. “Still okay, Lee?” Seth asks. “
Fuck
, you're so tight. I don't know that I could get in—”

His voice trails off, but his rhythm pumping into his hand speeds up. “Give it the old college try?” I flash him a brief smile before turning back to Lucas. It hurts to turn my neck that far.

“Okay then.” He stills my writhing, holding me stationary as he withdraws his fingers. “Just say-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Get on with it.” Every second I'm not actively riding Lucas feels like a missed opportunity. My pussy tightens at the thought of the rhythm I had twenty seconds ago.

“Impatient,” Seth chuckles, as he eases himself into me. Lucas strokes my hair, massages my shoulders as I tense with the initial strain of penetration. But it soon passes.

I wasn't lying—I've
had
anal sex before. But it's completely different now, with a cock already in me. I'm full to bursting, my organs jostling for space with their dicks. Every movement is alien all over, another kind of virginity lost. As Seth begins to withdraw slightly, showing me the motion if not the force, I pick up my rhythm again, both men fully sheathed in me, and me clinging for dear fucking life. Very soon, the strangeness of it fades, giving way to a fierce joy at being
so
possessed,
so
thoroughly needed. The sense of being stretched fades, leaving behind only the sense of being
filled.
Seth moans, his thigh muscles clenching against my feet.

Lucas moans, and I can only imagine how it feels for him, too. Barely a little muscle and tissue separating him from Seth, their cocks straining in their confines. Seth echoes him, his clean hand insistent on my hip, encouraging me to take him harder, faster. The pressure in me builds, between Seth's hips pressed against my ass, and Lucas's chest brushing against the length of me. My thighs clench on either side of Lucas's thighs, and he moans, thrusting upward as best he can, demanding that much more of me.

As if the joy at being taken so wantonly, defying the realms of biology and physics to create our own brand of pleasure wasn't enough, every noise from them twangs along my nerve endings, urging me to add to their music. I can barely feel my breath rattling through my throat in primal gasps.

Seth reaches down to tug my hair to the side, not so much to move my head as to get it out of the way so he can see my face, turned to the side, and Lucas's, as he thrusts. Lucas's thrusts bring the skin at the base of his cock into close, personal contact, sliding against my clit, and it's almost enough, but not quite. “Please, Luc—touch me,” I beg him, unable to articulate more. Thankfully, that's enough. One of his hands wedges between us until his fingertip finds my clit, rubbing more precisely than his skin. I gasp, feeling my body roaring to a final crescendo with each movement.

Seth gasps. “Lee, are you—”

“
Stop fucking asking me that
.” I don't have brainspace for stupid questions. Not with an earthshaker almost in my grasp.

Lucas laughs, and that little bit of tension makes his dick twitch inside me, hitting
another
new angle. “You're close, aren't you?” he asks, eyes sharp on my face. I nod, my face beet-red.

Seth moans louder, pumping into me harder, to see that. A louder cry escapes me as his touch gets firm, a little
too
firm, for how I'm barely holding on. And then I'm over the edge, my nails tightening on Lucas's shoulder, and my toes clenching. Lucas gasps as I contract, squeezing him with every piece of me. Seth speeds up his rhythm, gaining even
more
force, enough that spots dance in my vision to feel him in me so deep, with such brute strength. And his rhythm matches Lucas's as they both milk me for their pleasure.

Seth comes first, clutching my hip then releasing me and pulling out so quickly I can barely understand that he's gone, that one piece of that overstuffed puzzle is no longer teasing me. I don't miss a beat, in part due to that delayed reflex, and Lucas's grip on me tightens as he gets a little more mobility to guide me. Spots dance in my vision as his finger catches my hood, rather more violently than I'd usually like. But it's a reminder of how he and Seth claimed me, how sometimes pain can disguise transcendent pleasure. A gentler flick follows, though he's losing focus, and I ride him harder to keep that pressure there. I've barely come down since the first orgasm, and if he leans, just right—

“
Fuck.
”

A wave of pleasure crests over me, pulling me under, my entire body convulsing against Lucas as I writhe, trying to draw it out a few more seconds. I release him, in a daze, and he slams into me harder, his attention fixed on my face.

He doesn't last much longer. His eyes flick toward Seth, removing his condom and throwing it away, but plainly not willing to leave while we're still going. Then, they return to me, to my bouncing breasts and every inch of skin pressed against him. And he comes so hard his eyes nearly roll back into his head. His breath rasps fast and hard, he strokes every bit of me within reach.

My nerves hum, as much from euphoria at Lucas's sex-addled expression as from my own afterglow. And when I climb off him and turn back toward Seth, the look of pride and exhaustion on Seth's face amplifies it. Surely I'm floating. If I'm not, I'm staggering. “Gonna go clean up,” I manage, and make my dazed way to the bathroom.

Seth and Lucas leave me a few minutes of privacy in the shower, but they have their needs, too. Seth even more so, I'd say. He scrubs thoroughly in the sink before climbing in the shower with us.

I lean against the wall, utterly depleted. “I know that look,” Seth says with a grin. I wave loosely at him, and roll my eyes. I don't have a response in me. “That good, huh?” He grabs the bar of soap and begins scrubbing me. Lucas continues cleaning himself, but his wry amusement makes itself known in the crinkle in his eyes.

“I—I can...” I start, but peter off, unsure why I'm protesting his treatment.

“C'mon. After
that
, a little pampering's the least I can do.” He grins at me. “That said, if you're up for that more often, I may never leave the house.” Lucas flushes, and Seth winks at him. “Or share you with
him
that way, even.”

A strangled sigh leaves me. “You
do
know, now that you've said that, he's gonna
have
to try too...” I use my most put-upon tone, but smile at Lucas to let him know I'm not actually averse to that.

“Here.” Seth lets Lucas make his way under the brunt of the water while he continues soaping me up. “You look like you're almost done. We'll be out in a minute.”

“Yeah,” he says, casting one last look over his shoulder at me. “You're sure you don't—j”

“We'll be fine. You in the big bed tonight, or taking your own?”

Lucas's jaw tenses, and he takes my hand and squeezes it. “I'm sticking with you two.”

I grin at him, too tired to vocalize how much that cheers me up. And then he's pulling the curtain aside and looking for a towel, and it's just me and Seth.

Seth's tender touch unnerves me, now that my mind is straining to return to my body. “So we're okay?”

“What?”

“We're okay,” he repeats.

“Umm, sure.”

He wraps his arms around me, covering himself in the soap he already lathered on me. “You're not mad at me?”

“I—” I cut myself off from the assurance already on my lips. “I think we're all taking this one day at a time. Today was... more than I want if
every
day is this kind of schizophrenic thrill ride. But...I
want
this. And I know you do too. And Lucas. So whether I'm mad or not, we're okay.”

He flinches, and I know it's not the answer he wanted.

“You know that sooner or later you're gonna have to open up, you know.” Exhaustion is wearing away my filter. “You say you want to deepen things, but it's what you put
in
, too. You can't stay aloof and then get mad at us because we
aren't
.”

“There's a lot you don't-”

“Don't understand? Keep telling yourself that.” I angle myself under the water, impatient to lay the hell down. “But we're here. Whatever this is, it's the closest to family that I think
any
of us have.”

He nods, bows his head, accepting my halfhearted reassurance. “You're here.” His eyes twinkle as he adds “And mine?”

“And yours.” I nod, and rub the fatigue out of my eyes. My entire body is limp, senses stretched to chaotic capacity and left slack.

Only later does it occur to me that he never echoed the possessive sentiment, never said that he was similarly ours. But by then I'm back in bed, again wrapped in affection and warmth. Actions speak louder than words. This time Lucas is the one at the bottom of the pile, my head on his stomach and Seth's tucked on his chest. Heaven only knows what
his
first thought'll be when he wakes up.

Feel, not think. One day at a time
.

Lee, Lucas, and Seth's story unfolds in Honeypot, a serial coming soon. For updates on this, and other titles, sign up for
Katie's mailing list
, or visit
DelongKatie.com
.

ABOUT KATIE DE LONG

Katie de Long lives in the Pacific northwest, realizing her dream of being a crazy cat-lady. As a kid, Katie flagged the fade-to-blacks in every adult book she encountered, and when she began writing, she vowed to use cutaways sparingly. After all, that’s when the good stuff happens. And on a kindle, no one asks why there’s so many bookmarks in her library.

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FATED FOR THE ALPHAS: PART ONE

Lily Thorn

Chapter One

“Come on,” Lia whispered into her cupped hands. “One little spark. Just for a second.”

But the space between her palms remained as dark as the moonless sky. What a night for her magic to fail her.

Magda struck the ground with her staff, making Lia jump. “Nadine! Step forward.”

The slender girl obeyed, and the circle of witches and acolytes closed around her. Nadine faced the pile of logs before her, face set, brow furrowed.

“You know the test. Light the bonfire,” Magda pointed her staff at the logs, making them burst into flame, “and put it out.” She slashed her staff downward, extinguishing the flames and making it appear as though the logs had never been burned at all.

“Ready?”

Nadine gave a small nod.

“Then show us what you’ve learned.”

Spinning, Nadine threw an arm toward the pile of logs, fingers outstretched. Fire roared from her hand, crackling as it greedily devoured the wood. Nadine watched the flames for a moment, then opened her other hand and called the fire back to her.

“Very good,” Magda said. “You may reenter the circle.”

Nadine stepped back into place, her knees almost buckling with relief. Lia watched, unable to help the envy that flooded through her. Acolytes could stay in the coven as long as they passed one test. Lia was unwilling to pay the price blood magic required, and hopeless at scrying, so conjuring was her only chance. Even then, she was only capable of little magics. She could never dream of producing a rush of fire, but a spark could be enough. If only it would appear.

Isadora, Blanche, and Mayella all stepped into the ring and passed the test in turn. That must mean…

“Lia,” Magda called. “Step forward.”

She wished Magda hadn’t used that mocking, singsong voice that seemed reserved just for her. Lia had always held the awful suspicion that Magda thought her to be unfit for the coven, and tonight the old bat might finally realize her dearest wish—driving Lia out.

Taking a shaky breath, Lia stepped into the circle. She stared at her palms, her mind racing.

“Have you learned nothing with us?” Magda asked. “Would you like a final demonstration?”

Lia stared at the pile of logs. If her anger alone could cause them to combust, they would have by now.

“Let me show you one more time.” Magda pointed her staff, her movements slow and exaggerated. “Set the fire.” Flames leapt at Lia, threatening to consume her. Magda languidly swung her staff. “Put it out.”

Magda was definitely mocking her. Lia clenched her fists, trying to ignore the ringing in her ears.

“Well?” Magda asked. “We don’t have all night. Would you have us wait for the winter snows?”

In the circle, some of the witches tittered. Lia recognized the laughs of Margot, Lucasta, Perpetua. Bellerose outright chortled. She’d show them. She’d make them wipe the smiles off their faces.

Come on,
she thought fiercely.
Give me a flare. A blaze. An inferno. Let me show them what I’m capable of.

She felt it then, deep within her. A rush, a surety. This was it. Setting her feet, she threw her magic on the logs. She couldn’t wait to see what force would erupt from her hands.

It was the tiny spark she had called for earlier. The faint spot of red floated down between the logs, where it promptly flickered out and died.

The wrenching silence was broken by Bellerose’s screeching laugh.

Magda grinned. “Well, at least you tried. Back in the circle, let someone else have a chance. Lizabeth, step forward.”

Lia’s friend gave her a sad smile as she entered the circle, but it did nothing to fill the hollow place that had formed in the pit of Lia’s stomach. She had only one more chance, and if she failed she’d be cast out of the coven.

Watching Lizabeth, Lia felt numb. Effortlessly, Lizabeth conjured salamanders of flame that crawled over the logs, lighting them as they went. She shot Lia an apologetic look as Magda crowed over the advanced magic. Lia couldn’t fault her, though. Fire was Lizabeth’s strong suit. There was no reason for Lizabeth to fail just because Lia had.

Coralene and Ruth both took their turns, and passed without incident. Lia looked at her feet so she wouldn’t have to face the stares she felt prickling her skin. She hadn’t even attempted the blood magic. She was the only one who hadn’t lit the logs, and there’d been nothing to put out. She was the only acolyte who had failed two of the three tests.

Magda tossed her mane of white hair. “Onward to the scrying pool.” Her eyes swept over Lia, triumph in her gaze. “Last chance, for some.”

Lia hung back as the other acolytes followed the witches. They were lithe and willowy, every one. They looked nothing like her at all. Of the witches, she was closest in height to Hecuba, who was blind and bent double with age.

She took a last look at the bonfire, which had been left to smolder. The branches on the edges were blackened and twisted, useless like her fickle magic. Lia kicked one, and it exploded in a cloud of ash. She could run into the forest. Abstain from the final test, forgo the inevitable humiliation. She could leave quietly rather than be cast out.

Far off in the distance, Lia could make out the soft glow of city lights. That wasn’t an option. Humans had fearsome magic of their own. Tiny pieces of lead they used to kill their enemies. Stout metal tubes they could use to kill everyone. In fact, humans seemed to spend most of their time coming up with more and more clever ways to destroy each other.

Lia shuddered. At least when they were preoccupied with killing each other, humans tended to forget that other creatures existed. The witches had the foothills to themselves, and they preferred it that way. No one forgot what had happened in Salem all those years ago. Humans were not to be trusted.

“Hey.” Lizabeth tugged on her sleeve. “Aren’t you coming?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Lia laughed nervously, hoping it hid her fear.

“Don’t talk like that. You still have a chance.” Pulling on Lia’s robes, Lizabeth dragged her toward the pool.

“It’s scrying, remember? I’ve never seen more than my own reflection.”

“Don’t give up. You could be a great witch, I know it.”

Lia tried to smile, but it felt false. No one was nice to her, save Lizabeth. No one cared if she left. In fact, Magda would probably throw a party. But the coven was all she knew. Better to stay with the witches who could keep humans away, as well as the monsters rumored to live in the mountains. Being on her own could lead to a quick and nasty death. Next to that, putting up with Magda was bearable.

She realized Lizabeth was staring at her.

“All right,” Lia said. “I don’t promise I’ll pass. But I promise I’ll try.”

“That’s what I want to hear!” Lizabeth hugged her around the middle until Lia’s ribs hurt. “Come on!”

They made their way to the pool at a run. The others were already assembled around the edges. Lia skidded to a stop, accidentally sending a pebble flying. It shattered the still surface of the water, earning her a glare from Magda.

Panting, Lia braced for the explosion.

“You know the test,” Magda said calmly.

Why wasn’t she furious?

“Look into the pool,” the old woman continued, “and foretell your fate. It’s the roundest pool for miles, nearly perfect, so even the weakest of you should be able to see at least a glimpse.” Her eyes roved over Lia and she broke into a grin. “Before we begin, can anyone remind us of the first rule of scrying?”

Coralene raised her hand. “The stillness is sacred.”

“Very good.” Magda clasped her hands behind her back. “As Lia has violated this rule, I think she should be the first to look into the pool. Don’t you agree, Lia?”

She didn’t have much choice. Cursing silently, Lia knelt beside the pool. Of course it would end this way. Even on a night with no wind, with the calmest water imaginable, she would have only barely stood a chance. With the water violently rippling, there was no way she could See.

“We’re waiting.” Magda’s voice was laced with glee.

Her last chance. Tamping down the fear that threatened to swallow her, Lia touched a finger to the pool’s surface. To her surprise, it stilled somewhat. To her greater surprise, there was something in the pool.

It was ghostly, it was faint, but it was more than she’d ever Seen before. She stared at it, fascinated. The longer she watched, the brighter it glowed, until it almost blinded her. It spread, filling the pool to its edges. Lia squinted, but she couldn’t make out more than a few gray splotches.

“What do you See?” Hecuba turned her white, sightless eyes toward Lia. Despite being unable to use her eyes, Hecuba was the best at scrying.

“She won’t See anything,” Magda said. “She can’t.”

“No,” Lia said. “I see something. I See.” Her eyes darted over the pool, desperate to See something worth telling them about. After producing a single spark, the coven wouldn’t be impressed that she saw a bit of light. Trying not to think about the sweat beading on her forehead, Lia studied the splotches until her eyes watered. There had to be something there, enough to impress the witches and earn her place among them.

“The ripples are dying away,” Magda said. “Your time is almost up.”

“Please!” Lia said. “There’s something here.”

“Then share.”

“All right.” Lia thought through her options. The light and the splotches weren’t enough. She needed more. “I see gray splotches. Only they’re not splotches… They’re turning into people. There’s me, as a witch. I’m sitting beside a fire. I’m talking, and I’m… I’m surrounded by children. I think they’re my grandchildren. One of them is flying off on a bough of pine. She’s a witch, too.”

She looked up, heart thumping against her ribs. Magda, for once, was silent. Had she bought Lia’s vision?

Hecuba straightened, her white eyes wide. She pointed at Lia. “Liar!” she shrieked. “Falsifier! Did you think I would not See?”

Magda hauled Lia up by the back of her robe. “Failure at conjuring, blind to scrying. Afraid of blood magic.” She spat out her contempt. “What use are you to us?” Throwing Lia to the ground, she brought up her staff and pointed it at Lia’s heart. “Go, Lia No Name, and take with you the only thing you had when you came to us. The coven has no use for your magic, and you will never be a witch. You are henceforth cast out.”

It felt as though ice had claimed Lia’s heart.

“Lizabeth,” Magda called. “Step forward. Look into the pool and foretell your fate.”

Lia stood. She stared at Lizabeth, desperate for something, anything. Surely Lizabeth wouldn’t completely forsake her.

Her friend wouldn’t meet her eyes. Lizabeth knelt beside the pool, and the witches closed around her.

Biting back a sob, Lia turned and ran. Blinded by tears, she headed for the forest, leaving behind the only people she knew in the world. She left the coven with nothing but her name.