Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures (6 page)

Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures

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Connections: Past and Present

Desperate moans and soft, drowsy sighs brought Rickard abruptly awake. A second later, the sweet musky aroma of feminine arousal set his nostrils quivering. He might not be a wulf like his friend Pavel, but his senses were almost as acute, and the rich, heady smell of Kaila’s dripping pussy soon had his balls aching and his cock stirring.

The low, husky masculine growls rumbling in the quiet morning air twisted his heart into knots. Pavel always had been a two-timer morning man.

Rickard turned on his side, eased up on his elbow and cradled his head in his palm. His eyes met Pavel’s and he nodded. An amused grin curled his lips when his faithful friend lifted his face from between Kaila’s legs and bared his fangs at him, silently daring him to interfere.

Chuckling, Rickard raised one eyebrow in regal reproof. His right hand lowered to cup his balls and he gently massaged the full orbs as he mouthed, “Stop growling at your sovereign and carry on!”

Shifting aside, his smile faded as he watched his best friend return to tongue-fucking his newly mated plus-sized woman.

Kaila lay belly down on the bed, shoulders resting on the silky duvet, her dark, cushiony hips propped high by a mound of fluffy white pillows. Her curvy black womanly body, arched in carnal tension, was a glorious, cock-raising sight. Rickard, gaze locked on the two lovers, fisted his firming penis, gasping at the sharp spike of lust streaking up through his balls.

Pavel’s broad shoulders held her legs splayed open, revealing the lush red meat of her pussy and above that, the tight, darker brown pucker of her succulent asshole. Rickard licked dry lips, recalling the torrid heat and viselike grip of that delicious little hole squeezing his 30 Camille Anthony

dick. If his cock had been equipped with lungs, her intimate grasp would have suffocated them last night.

An inward sigh shuddered through him. Too bad, he’d never have another full-body go at Kaila. The only way that could happen would be by personal invitation from the both of them or for Pavel to die, two instances unlikely in the extreme. Despite having enjoyed being the juicy dark meat in their white bread sandwich, Kaila really wasn’t into triad sex.

As for Pavel dying…he was a wulf with a life span -- barring some brutal accident --

far greater than Rickard’s. Besides, he’d rather give up sex than suffer the loss of his friend.

And that was saying a lot, seeing how much he adored every aspect of the sex act.

Kaila head was turned to the side, facing him. Her rioting curls obscured most of her face and Rickard saw she’d squeezed her eyes and lips tight, fighting the urge to give full voice to the emotions surging through her. Her muffled wails leaked from her full lips, her fingers clawed the sheets as Pavel’s mouth pushed her up the steep slope of a jagged orgasm.

She must still think him asleep.

Knowing how she would react, Rickard couldn’t resist leaning in to taste her mouth as her body jolted under the erotic tongue-lashing Pavel was administering. This sharing -- the kiss of peace -- was his right. With a delicate finesse, he sent his tongue as his emissary, licking at her full lips, begging for entry.

Kaila’s eyes flew open, their vague expression giving way to momentary horror.

Rickard’s smile widened. The startled, panicked look on Kaila’s face as she registered his leering gaze had him biting back a hearty laugh. She was still such an innocent, still overly shy about exposing her amply curved body. Taking into consideration her history, he supposed it would take some time, and much loving, for her to overcome her reticence at displaying her abundant charms.

“Give me your tongue, sweet Kaila,” he whispered, dark seduction in his raspy tones.

She blinked, shook her head, folding her lips into a narrow line.

Brushing his lips over her trembling mouth in encouragement, he urged, “You know you want to, want me to suck on your tongue while Pavel is sucking your clit.”

A wash of warm color surged under her smooth café au lait skin as a second, more frenetic headshake stirred the loose curls about her face.

Rickard huffed, drew back to stare down at her, his emotions doing an unruly dance within him. He was a ruling prince, not used to refusal. That she would refuse him and had no qualms about denying him, ruffled his princely feathers. “It is my right.”

She smirked, gasped a little in response to what Pavel was doing to her. “Eat me!”

He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What, and displace your wulf?” Rickard glanced over her shoulder to find Pavel’s spring green eyes twinkling with loving amusement. “Vassal, your mate refuses your prince the kiss of peace. What say you?”

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Pavel lifted his face from between her legs, mouth and chin shiny with her slippery juices. His wulven tongue emerged, lapping at the residue in a lazy curl of hot pink muscle.

For a moment, he looked more cat than wulf as he savored the essence of his true-bond mate.

He cocked his head and regarded Kaila with a sexy mischievous grin.

“As captain of the royal guard, I cannot condone insurrection against the throne’s offer of pleasure.”

The gruff bass chuckle rumbling in that muscular chest had things tightening low in Rickard’s belly. Gods, he still loved the man, would probably never stop loving him, regardless of the futility of his unrequited emotion. It was moments like this…when Pavel allowed his playful nature free rein, revealing the youthful companion of earlier years that Rickard loved him most.

Eyes sparkling, Pavel brought his open palm down on Kaila’s naked rump, startling both his mate and Rickard. His other hand gripped her upper left thigh, holding her in place as he rose up to kneel between her legs. “He’ll keep your mouth occupied while I deal with this pretty kitty,” he crooned, plunging three thick fingers past her swollen labia. “Open, beloved…to both of us.”

A needy wail split the air as Kaila’s lower body convulsed, spine arching as Pavel withdrew his fingers, wedged his huge erection at the mouth of her sex, and plunged deep and hard into her welcoming body.

Rickard’s tongue slid in as she opened her mouth, captured her tongue…suckled it hard and rhythmically. One hand released its death grip on the covers to fist in the hair knotted at his nape. She tugged him closer, deeper into the kiss, and with her acceptance the mutual mental connection between the three opened up.

With his mental eye, Rickard saw three gleaming cords twined together. No, two of the cords were interwoven; their braided strand thicker and denser than the solitary silvery thread that he somehow knew represented his mind in the link. His silvery cord connected along the outside of the others, looping around them, nowhere intersecting them. The other two threads blended in a cohesive bond, while his seemed haphazard at best.

The knowledge that Pavel now shared a closer, tighter bond with Kaila was one his brain had accepted but his heart had repudiated…until now. Rickard could no longer deny what his soul recognized as truth. Pavel belonged to Kaila, now and forever. The two were one, even without the Pack bonding ceremony.

Fast on the heels of that painful realization came another. He had to cut Pavel loose, sever their bond completely. The very thought cut into his heart like the sharpest scalpel, the pain of his decision so great it felt like he was dying.

Stay with us…

They spoke as one, both voices blended so perfectly, Rickard knew they were in one accord.

32 Camille Anthony

It’s not right. I shouldn’t be here, in this private place with you.

This is you place, too. You are pac

r

k. Den. Brother.

But not lover…?

They turned and looked behind them. Rickard peeked over their shoulders and saw a door, locked against him. Another place, then, one where he wasn’t welcome.

Not lover after we bond. Never again.

Their answer should have hurt, yet strangely, it didn’t. Feeling lightheaded, giddy with relief, Rickard sent a questing thought. Kissing cousins?

Laughter along the link. Assent. Affirmation.

Kissing family, the two agreed. Family forever.

The phrase triggered an emotion, highlighted a memory. Instantly, Rickard found himself reliving a day long past when Pavel and he had exchanged similar words. He instinctively shared the memory along the link.

The two preteen boys stood on Creshval Pointe, as close to the

sheer drop off as their nerves could stand. Too far below, the waters

of the lake sparkled in the hot afternoon sun, beckoning the two

reckless playmates, tempting them to make the forbidden plunge.

“How does it feel when you make your eyes shine like that?”

Pavel shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal. And I don’t make them

shine, they just do.”

“Show me how to make my eyes go golden like that!”

“I can’t. My eyes shine because I’m a wulf and yours don’t

because you’re just a silly prince.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Pavel giggled. “It’s what you are, silly prince.”

Rickard stomped his foot. “I order you not to call me that, then!”

The younger boy laughed, his light green eyes still glowing hot as

the sun in the unclouded sky.” You’re not my prince. I answer only

to the Pack Prime and Prima.”

The prince narrowed his eyes, anger and frustration growing.

“Maybe not now, but one day you’ll be the Pack Prime. You’ll have

to answer to me then, if you want your pack to keep living in

Drestovia.”

The laughter went out of the boy’s face, the glow in his eyes

dimming, a look older than his years sharpening his compact

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33

features. “Silly prince, nobody will follow you if you act like a

spoiled brat.”

Rickard’s hands fisted at his side as he fumed, furious over his

failure to ruffle his companion’s cool aplomb. Pavel was always calm

and collected, always being praised by Rickard’s father, held up as an

example for the elder boy. No matter what Rickard did to gain his

father’s favor, it was never enough. He never seemed to earn the

same easy approval from his father that the crown prince so readily

bestowed upon Pavel. “Don’t follow me, then!” he snarled at the

younger boy. “Since you don’t want to come behind, you can go

before!”

Rickard’s thin, wiry build was deceptive. He was much stronger

than his looks suggested. The shove he gave Pavel sent the boy

pitching over the precipice, mouth opening wide in shocked

surprise. He watched his playmate hurtling in air, horror at his

action chilling his blood.

“Pavel!” Without hesitation, Rickard threw himself over the edge

after the younger boy, his only thought to somehow catch and

cushion the other’s fall.

Below him, Pavel screamed and Rickard knew it was because his

friend feared not for himself, but for Rickard’s safety. His heart

swelled at this indication of Pavel’s true loyalty even as it raced in

terror at the sight of the lake rising fast beneath them.

In midair, Pavel shifted into the wulf form of his people, taking

on hair and teeth and tail. Shifted and managed to somehow twist

his spine in a painful looking move that had his body facing up for

the seconds it took him to snag Rickard out of the air and wrap him

in a fur-cushioned embrace.

Together they hit the waters of the lake, the spume of their wake

splashing high into the air. Rickard, surrounded and protected by

Pavel’s wulven body, barely felt the impact, but the wulf Pavel let

out a despairing, pain-filled yowl. The waters of the lake closed over

their heads, abruptly cutting off his cries and Rickard’s last thoughts

were that he’d never hear the end of it from his father if he managed

to get his friend killed and didn’t die alongside him.

He came to sputtering, chest heaving, throwing up water and

bile. At his side, Pavel sat hunched over, head hanging down, back

and shoulders curled in toward his belly. He looked miserable.

34 Camille Anthony

Feeling wretched himself, Rickard flung himself on his back,

forearm flung over his eyes. “Pavel…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” His

sopping tunic sleeve muffled the words of his apology, but he was

too ashamed to lower his arm and see Pavel’s accusing glance,

cringed away from facing the condemnation he richly deserved.

His father was right to judge him unworthy of carrying on the

title and the responsibilities of his position. What kind of prince was

he, willfully endangering the life of someone under his protection,

one of his future subjects? With only the slightest provocation, he’d

lost his temper and in a fit of pique, had hurt, almost killed, his only

friend.

“Why did you do that?” the young wulf snarled.

Rickard trembled at the angry question. He’d never heard Pavel

sound so furious. “I don’t know what made me do such a horrid

thing.”

“No.” Pavel touched his hand. When Rickard ignored that, Pavel

tugged his arm down, forced him to look at him. Pavel’s eyes glowed

a fierce green.

That means he’s angry, then…not ready to change, Rickard

thought.

“Why did you jump over after me?”

Rickard shrugged. “I was trying to save you.”

Pavel cocked his head, mouth falling open as he stared at Rickard

in disbelief. Even in skin form, he looked like a bewildered puppy.

“You idiot…you can’t swim!”

Rickard shrugged again, a sarcastic half grin curling his lips. “No,

but I know you’re afraid of heights. I figured if I was falling you’d be

too busy trying to save me to realize how far down the lake was.”