Bewitched by Their Mate [Feral 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) Page 5

  Hewitt felt ashamed of himself. He’d only ever seen Dietrich’s point of view, believing ferals were all insane and evil. In a sense, he’d always known the world could not be judged with black-and-white standards, but now, all the limits and concepts he’d thought true and valid seemed to be falling apart.

  Certainly, the man who’d tried to attack him seemed out of his mind. However, that feral would be in spirit wolf custody by now. It was the second reason why Hewitt wanted to get Devon and Mason out of the main city. They simply were not safe in London. And didn’t it speak volumes that they already meant so much to him that he was willing to hide them no matter what it meant for him?

  He was snapped out of his musings when the furry animal bodies next to him changed into men—very naked men.

  “What are you thinking about so hard, my mate?” Mason asked. His breath was hot in Hewitt’s ear, and Hewitt unwillingly trembled. Just like that, he went from feeling safe, but concerned, to aroused as hell.

  He tried to find an answer, but when Mason and Devon sandwiched him between their hard bodies, his mind short-circuited. “Uh,” he said intelligently.

  Mason chuckled and licked his neck. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll take care of you.”

  Devon pressed his strikingly soft lips to Hewitt’s cheek in a whisper of a kiss. His hands worked at Hewitt’s clothing, threatening to tear them apart. It reminded Hewitt of where they were, and of the fact that he needed those clothes to go back to London.

  Somehow, he managed to snap out of his lust-induced trance and say, “The clothes. Need the clothes to get back.” He panted as Mason rubbed his hard prick against the crease of his ass. “Oh, God, yes…I mean, no. This is a bad idea. Someone is going to see.”

  “No one is around,” Devon murmured. It was true. At this hour, this part of the park seemed to have few visitors. “And anyway, if someone did show up, we’d feel him or her.”

  Any other time, Hewitt might have pulled away. He had clear rules against drawing attention of any kind to himself. But with Mason and Devon touching him, those rules faded into the background of his mind. He must have been crazy when he’d said he didn’t want to rush into things. Now, he couldn’t think of any better idea.

  As if sensing his desire, Devon pressed his mouth to Hewitt’s. As his mate’s tongue licked across the seam of Hewitt’s mouth, he gladly parted his lips, allowing Devon entrance. The feral didn’t delay in taking advantage of the given opportunity. He thrust his tongue inside the wet cavern, exploring every inch of Hewitt, taking no prisoners. Meanwhile, his clever hands continued working on Hewitt’s clothing, aided by Mason’s. Distantly, Hewitt noted that, in deference of his wishes, his mates refrained from tearing apart his clothes, actually taking it slow—far too slow, in Hewitt’s opinion.

  Thankfully, Devon’s delicious kiss distracted him. The man tasted wild, like nature itself, and Hewitt enjoyed himself immensely. Before he knew it, he was naked, his skin touching Devon’s and Mason’s. Devon reached between their bodies and wrapped his hand around Hewitt’s prick. Hewitt gasped, moaning into their kiss. Devon broke away from him, allowing him to breathe, while Mason massaged Hewitt’s buttocks. He separated Hewitt’s ass cheeks, his dry fingers prodding at the opening hidden there.

  Hewitt wanted to push closer to both of them. His mind whirled with the onslaught of sensation, and he didn’t even know what he wanted. The two ferals didn’t seem to have that problem. They toyed with him as if in a perfectly orchestrated play.

  Devon’s mouth advanced from Hewitt’s lips down toward his Adam’s apple, then lower and lower. His tongue trailed lines of fire on Hewitt’s skin, and he licked Hewitt as if he were a delectable morsel just waiting to be feasted upon. When his mate zeroed in on his nipples, Hewitt couldn’t help a cry. He wrapped his arms around Devon, wordlessly begging for more.

  But after a few more licks, Devon abandoned the sensitive nubs. Hewitt tried to make his mate retrace his steps, but Mason’s hands tightened on his hips. “Shh, my mate,” Mason murmured. “Let him take care of you.”

  The tone of Mason’s voice was like melted chocolate, dark and sweet, and Hewitt found himself falling under its spell. He relaxed in Mason’s arms while Devon continued his exploration. Mason’s hard hands caressed his sides, and his wicked hands went to Hewitt’s nipples, much to his enjoyment. He was so lost in the pleasure that he completely missed Devon’s plans until the other man’s mouth engulfed his cock.

  Hewitt howled, the pleasure more intense than he’d ever expected. He’d gotten a taste of what it could be like between him and Devon back at the club, but that memory was shadowed by Devon’s loss of control. Now, however, all that seemed so distant, like an upsetting cloud looming over someone else that Hewitt could acknowledge without really caring.

  “Shh,” Mason repeated. “You said it yourself. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear, now would you?”

  Hewitt bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. He’d have very much liked to be in private with his mates now, but since that couldn’t be achieved, he did indeed need to be quiet. It was easier said than done, especially with the delicious suction around his prick. Devon did something mind-numbingly amazing with his mouth, and Hewitt couldn’t help another cry, “Oh, God. Please. Please. Please. Fuck me.”

  The next few seconds reminded Hewitt who he truly was with. His demand seemed to make something snap in both Devon and Mason. Devon removed his mouth off Hewitt’s cock, and Hewitt found himself being flipped on his back. Mason’s hard fist moved up and down Hewitt’s dick, jacking him almost roughly. Mason’s green eyes pinned Hewitt to the ground, promising wicked delights and freezing every muscle in his body.

  An orgasm tingled at the base of Hewitt’s spine. He felt it approach more and more with every harsh pull of Mason’s hand. He would have reached for Mason, but Devon held him down immobile, leaving Hewitt at Mason’s mercy. Sure, if he’d truly wanted to, Hewitt could have easily pushed them away through magic, but of course, that was the last thing on his mind right now.

  Mason gestured for him to spread his legs wider, and Hewitt gladly obeyed. As Mason’s wicked fingers massaged his testes, Hewitt could not take it anymore. Crying out his lovers’ names, he came all over Mason’s fist.

  It was not, by far, the kinkiest thing he’d done in his long life, but it offered a pleasure beyond the pure carnal one, one that was heightened by the knowledge that his mates weren’t done with him. His orgasm swept over him with striking intensity, so much so that for a minute, he lost track of his actual location. Perhaps it was for that reason that he missed what Mason intended until he felt its results. Slick fingers rubbed his taint, making new sensations course through him. They didn’t linger too long, however, progressing toward Hewitt’s hole.

  “I’m sorry, my mate,” Mason said. “I just don’t think I can take it much longer.”

  Two digits thrust inside Hewitt’s passage. They were wet with his own cum, Hewitt realized, and for some reason, that made his body respond. His cock—spent from his orgasm—went rock hard once again.

  Mason chuckled as he pushed his fingers in and out of Hewitt’s anus. “Would you look at that? Someone got all excited again.”

  He lowered his large body over Hewitt’s and brought their lips together, at the same time lifting Hewitt’s ass and continuing with the prep. Hewitt had trouble processing how exactly Mason managed to do it, but he decided he’d worry about it later. He parted his lips, allowing the other man entry. Just like Devon, Mason devoured him, but it was a lazier exploration, as if the other man had all the time in the world. He teased Hewitt, perhaps knowing how much Hewitt truly needed him and enjoying that knowledge.

  Hewitt wrapped his legs around Mason’s waist and clutched his mate’s shoulders with his arms, digging his fingernails into the hard flesh. Mason groaned, obviously enjoying the display. He broke away from Hewitt and flipped him on all fours.

  In the process, his hold on Hewitt’s ass faltered, and He
witt couldn’t help a moan of protest. Still, the new position had many advantages, as he found himself facing Devon’s very hard cock. He looked up to meet Devon’s eyes, finding them almost black with the lust the other man irradiated. Mason caressed his buttocks, murmuring slightly, “Come on, little witch. Suck him.”

  Hewitt didn’t wait to be told twice. He opened his mouth and waited for Devon’s next move. He didn’t delay, and seconds later, Devon’s cock thrust in the provided opening. As he did so, Mason worked three fingers inside Hewitt’s ass. Hewitt moaned around Devon’s cock. He wanted to tell Mason to get on with it, but he had a feeling that the feral would just drag the torture on forever if Hewitt pushed him. Then again, he very much doubted Mason could let them wait for much longer. They were all too needy, too desperate for each other.

  Indeed, just as he’d expected, Mason removed his fingers from Hewitt’s ass. “Ready?” he growled.

  In answer, Hewitt just moaned again and wiggled his ass, and he couldn’t help a feeling of wicked satisfaction when both his lovers groaned. But all his thoughts melted when, without warning, Mason thrust into his ass.

  Damn, it hurt, but it hurt so good, so very good Hewitt could not get enough. Mason’s prick stretched him to capacity, the burn so intense it scorched Hewitt inside out. From the very first thrust, Mason hit his prostate, making pleasure explode at the bottom of his spine.

  Even as Mason fucked his ass, Devon fucked his mouth. They moved in and out of him, using him, driving him crazy with pleasure. Mason’s somehow-clawed hands squeezed Hewitt’s hips, while Devon pulled his hair, making Hewitt’s scalp ache and tingle.

  Hewitt lost himself in the ecstasy, in the beauty of the moment. He could not even focus on working on Devon’s dick anymore, but thankfully, his mates took over. He gladly surrendered all control, allowing them to do as they willed. Over and over, they fucked him, moving in and out of his body in perfect synchrony. It was raw, and wild, and so hot it threatened to melt Hewitt’s brain cells. His senses were invaded by the scent of sex, man, and nature, moist grass and sweat mingling together in an intoxicating perfume.

  He’d have thought his first orgasm would help prolong the experience, but all too soon, he felt a second one approach. Hewitt buried his fingers in the humid earth under him, trying to find an anchor in a world that was quickly fading, rotating just around his two men.

  Unsurprisingly, he failed. As much as he attempted to hang on, when Mason roared and thrust hard inside him, Hewitt could no longer withstand the onslaught of pleasure. He came, his ass clenching around Mason’s spurting cock as his mate filled him with his seed. Their joint climax triggered Devon’s, and the other feral sent hot cum down Hewitt’s throat.

  Hewitt greedily took it all, loving the taste as much as he loved the knowledge that he’d brought both Mason and Devon pleasure. Drugged by his own orgasm and those of his mates, he almost lost his balance and didn’t collapse only because Devon held him up. As their cocks slid out of his body, his mates helped him lay down, caressing Hewitt’s sides with striking gentleness.

  They didn’t speak, but it truly wasn’t necessary. Hewitt knew what they were thinking. They’d only just met, and yet, it felt like they’d known each other for ages. Was this what it meant to be mates? If so, Hewitt would do whatever it took to preserve it.

  Unfortunately, their postcoital bliss was soon shattered. All of a sudden, Mason and Devon tensed. “Someone must have heard us.”

  Hewitt secretly thought the other visitors of the park couldn’t have missed the noise they’d been making. Sighing, he rushed to clean up as quickly as he could and pulled his clothes on while his mates shifted back into wolf form.

  By the time the group of alerted people arrived, they’d pretty much covered all traces of what happened between them. A helpful spell ensured that no one even saw them go. And as they retreated toward Hewitt’s car, he couldn’t help but feel happier than he had in ages.

  * * * *

  That night

  “Are you certain?” Hewitt asked, looking anxious. “No one will sense you if you’re here?”

  “Positive.” Mason grinned and cupped his mate’s cheek. “Now stop worrying about us and go do whatever it is a filthy-rich club owner does.”

  Hewitt smiled tightly, but nevertheless obeyed. Apparently, the wards needed strengthening, and more so with the ferals and the spirit wolves hanging around. On the way back from the forest, Hewitt had manifested his restlessness regarding the possibility of Mason and Devon being sensed. Thankfully, Mason’s abilities allowed him to cloak both his and Devon’s presences.

  Hewitt seemed to trust him and left him and Devon in his quarters above the club. Now alone with Devon, Mason knew it was time to have a nice chat with his feral mate. He plopped down on Hewitt’s couch and waited as Devon did the same.

  He’d seen the marks on Hewitt’s hips, both those made by him and previous ones, which he could only guess came from Devon. While they had aroused him at the time, he could now say with clarity that the situation concerned him. At this rate, they would hurt Hewitt badly.

  He didn’t blame Devon for what happened before Mason’s arrival. There were no explanations needed, not in this. The two of them were simply two ferals who wanted their mate, but could not have him.

  “We need to do something about this,” he began without preamble. The need to claim Hewitt was so intense it hurt, but his resolve and conviction were faltering. He simply could not be certain Hewitt would be fine as a feral. In fact, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he knew all too well ferals originating from spirit wolves were different from those who’d once been humans. If either he or Devon bit Hewitt, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that the witch would lose his mind. But their aggression was already harming Hewitt, so they couldn’t perpetuate this situation forever, either.

  Devon nodded. “We can’t risk claiming him, but if we don’t, it’ll just be worse.” He hesitated slightly before speaking again. “But the spirit wolves seem to have found a way.”

  Mason couldn’t believe that he was actually considering the suggestion. Once the very thought of appealing to Wolfram Rozenstadt’s help would have made him furious. “I know,” he answered. “It’s one of the reasons why Hewitt is in the limelight in the first place. They’re blabbing about it to all the wrong people.” He sighed in frustration. “But, Devon, I don’t really think Wolfram will help us. I’m not exactly on his list of favorite people.”

  “Join the club,” Devon muttered. “But if he is trying to make a peace treaty, perhaps we have a chance.”

  Mason remembered the day he’d last seen the Magistrate and gritted his teeth. “Perhaps. I just don’t trust them.”

  For all their supposed morals, they’d had no trouble stabbing an eighteen-year-old in the back when he hadn’t even known which way was up.

  “They betrayed you, too, didn’t they?” Devon asked. Mason looked at his mate, surprised at the man’s perception. He supposed he shouldn’t be, not really. After all, Devon was his mate as well, and as a feral he must have gone through a similar experience.

  Still, he this was not the time for heartfelt confessions. They needed to come up with a plan if they hoped to make their relationship work. Leaving Hewitt was out of the question. Did the spirit wolves have a cure, or were they all talk?

  “They did betray me,” he answered Devon, “but I suppose we’ll never know if we don’t ask. And Hewitt is their friend, so things might have changed.”

  As Mason considered how to proceed, he found himself relaxing. Remembering the day of his exile had put him on the edge, but Devon’s presence and quiet understanding made him feel better. Before he knew it, he and Devon cuddled close together on the couch.

  It was so very strange, since the beast inside Mason had always rejected others such as him. Now, his wolf acknowledged the fact that his mates had accepted his domination and had quieted down. In fact, with each moment that passed, even the beast seemed to understa
nd how right they were for each other.

  In the end, their wild natures couldn’t be changed. They reached for each other at the same time, and their mouths came into contact in a clash of flesh and teeth. Mason bit Devon’s lip so hard it bled, and the metallic taste that exploded on his tongue combined with the flavor that was simply Devon.

  Their tongues entangled, dueling in a dance of passion that became a quick game. Mason growled, wordlessly demanding surrender, and Devon granted it. Mason explored the warm recesses of his mate’s mouth, reveling in Devon’s taste, all man, all feral. With both of them acknowledging each other’s need, they didn’t require gentleness or caution. They got rid of their clothing in a few hard rips, tossing the scraps of material on the floor. In almost insane lust, Mason rubbed against his mate. He reached between their bodies, bringing their hard pricks together. The pre-cum leaking from the glans of his cock and Devon’s smoothed the way, but it was still rough, almost to the extent of pain. Devon grunted as he thrust against Mason, his claws sinking into Mason’s shoulders.

  The ecstasy combined with the pain, and Mason felt his climax approach, just within his reach. His fangs lowered, aching to sink into Devon’s flesh. And after all, why not? He had the right to claim his man. Devon belonged to him, just like Hewitt did.

  But as the thought passed through his mind, Mason sensed Hewitt’s presence approach, and he faltered. Now more than ever, he yearned to claim both his mates, but somehow, it didn’t feel right. The beast inside him snarled, telling him to just take what was his, overwhelming the part of Mason that clung to reason. Mason moved against Devon harder and harder, the instinct to copulate and to mate mingling together. And then, the door to the room open, and Hewitt stepped inside. Mason met his eyes over Devon’s shoulder, and in Hewitt’s black gaze, he saw the same lust and yearning he himself passed through.