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Two Roped and Ready (MFM)

Bewitching Desires 6

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 28,737
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[Ménage Amour: Erotic Fantasy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, witches, time travel, light bondage, HEA]

Witch Ilona Macska has no intention of waiting for the Fates to deliver her mates to her bed when the full moon triggers her fertility cycle. Her plan includes a trip to a nineteenth-century brothel and men lined up to find pleasure with her. But sometimes the best-laid plans don't work so out well…

With their pasts erased, Quayde Gallagher and Paxton Campbell have searched the Republic of Texas for clues about where they come from. After the accidental rescue of Ilona from a band of outlaws, a visit with her at the town bordello sparks more than memories.

When her family's enemy sends a tornado to destroy her, Ilona spells herself and her cowboys back home—but not before the ancient shifter poisons her. Can Quayde and PC heal Ilona with their growing love for her? And will their stolen memories return as they devote themselves to healing her?

A Siren Erotic Romance

More From Bewitching Desires


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Excerpt

STORY EXCERPT

 

She looked over her shoulder as distant hoofbeats sounded behind her. Caressing the pistol belted to her waist, she slowed her gait and moved off the faint trail. Time to load, in case she needed backup.

Remember the instructions. Withdrawing the weapon from the belt with her right hand and a paper cartridge from her pocket with her left, she let out a calming breath. Tear the powder end of the cartridge open with your teeth. Pour a small amount in the priming pan. Close the frizzen.

She glanced up to gauge how much time she had left. A brown cloud hovered on the horizon.

Tip up the barrel and pour the remainder of the black powder inside. Push the rest of the cartridge into barrel, ball end first. Ram into place and then replace the ramming rod into the guides. If the need arose, she only had to aim, cock the hammer, and pull the trigger. And pray to the Goddess.

The thundering rhythm drew closer, and she almost cursed her decision to come to the nineteenth century without a horse. She wouldn’t endanger one of the mares by bringing an animal with her, though. One more thing she didn’t need to have to worry about.

Armed with a spell on her tongue and the flintlock in her grip, she pivoted toward the approaching riders. Five men rode abreast, their pace slowing as they came closer. The one in the middle raised his hand to signal for them to stop, and the others obeyed. His beady-eyed gaze sent a warning to her brain as he tugged a bandana down past his chin and lifted a battered hat a scant inch off his head.

“Evenin’, ma’am.” He dropped the hat back into place and swung his leg over the horse’s neck to dismount. Two steps brought him too close for comfort. His alcohol-laden breath sent a shudder through her sinuses. “Wandering alone ain’t safe for a lady such as yerself. So pretty and all. How’s ’bout we escort you into town?”

Tightening her grasp on the pistol and readying to recite the words, she shook her head. “No, thank you.”

He glanced back at his companions. “Aw, now, did ya hear that, boys? She thinks she’s safe out here all by her lonesome. But she ain’t, is she?”

Two more men dismounted, disconcerting grins exposing crooked, rotting teeth. The shorter of the pair cocked his head to the side. “The little lady’s got it wrong all right, Chester. There’s outlaws and robbers ’round these here parts.”

The world won’t miss them if I absolutely must shoot to defend myself. Raising the gun to point it at the leader, she pulled back the hammer. “I believe I’ll be quite fine on my own, gentlemen.”

“We got ourselves a feisty gal to have some fun with.” Chester stood his ground, not even flinching when she took aim at his chest. The gleam in his eyes made her skin crawl.

Tightening her finger on the trigger, she held her breath.

Bang! Hands pushed down and back on her arms at the blast of the gunshot. Bang! Bang!

Vibrations rippled through her right hand to her elbow and shoulder. She tumbled to the ground, certain she’d fired her weapon. Three shots. Where did the other two come from?

“Let’s get outta here!” The pair of men behind Chester scrambled to get on their horses and dug their heels into their mounts’ flanks.

She caught a glimpse of their leader writhing on the ground before the rest of his gang scattered. Hoofbeats echoed in her ears as she struggled to comprehend what had happened.

Bang! Bang!

Hugging the ground, she jerked toward the sound of more gunfire. Two riders raced past her in pursuit of four of the villains who’d thought to accost her.

Her pulse pounding in her ears, she forced several deep breaths in and out of her lungs. Tremors shook every part of her body, and she rolled her eyes at the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Logic. I have to use my brain.

Another inhale and exhale cleared her head enough to look toward Chester. He lay curled into a fetal position, his low groans carrying to her on the now-silent air. Disabled for the moment. Had she shot him? If she had, at least her bullet hadn’t killed him, setting who knew what kind of changes to history in motion.

Tentatively pushing up to survey her surroundings, she scanned the wagon lane toward the town. The pursuers arced back around in an easy gallop, evidently giving up the chase. Not ready for another confrontation with barbarians from the nineteenth century, she gathered her skirt in her fist and scuttled low to the ground to hide behind the nearest squatty tree. Doubt about her plan cast a shadow on her confidence. Was coming to this time and place a mistake?

Her hands shook as she hurried to reload the flintlock. She spilled far too much powder on the ground while priming the pan before she finally managed to pour the remainder into the barrel and tamp in the rest of the cartridge. By then, her accidental rescuers had slowed their horses to a walk less than fifty feet away. She ducked her head and huddled against the broad trunk of the live oak, trying to quiet her rapid, shallow breathing.

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

PC’s neck and cheeks colored, and he glanced away. “We didn’t realize you weren’t dressed for company. Do you want us to wait—”

A feminine cry from one of the neighboring rooms cut off his words. A grunt blended with the sound, leaving no doubt about the activity going on next door.

Quayde let out a strangled cough. “Maybe we could take you to the saloon for lunch.”

Crooking her finger at the men, Ilona leaned back against the mound of pillows and savored the rush of fertility hormones. “I think I need to work up an appetite for food. I’m hungry for something else right now.”

As he took a step forward, PC tugged at his shirt collar. “Are you feeling okay? You, um, had quite a scare yesterday.”

“I ache all over.” She arched until a nipple popped free. Cupping her pussy with one hand and pinching the pert tip with the other, she closed her eyes and moaned. “I want you to touch me everywhere.”

Struggling to breathe with all his blood flowing south, Quayde couldn’t take his eyes off Ilona. His feet were stuck to the floor, and his dick had gone from mostly relaxed to trying to escape his trousers in the two seconds he’d needed to step into her room.

Beside him, PC seemed just as entranced by the erotic sight. “Uh, me or Quayde?”

A seductive smile curved her sexy lips to go with the slow blink of her inviting eyes. Her hand glided along her inner thigh, and she spread her legs, giving them a peek at her dark curls through the opening in her underclothes. “I need both of you.”

Quayde’s balls tightened, and he nearly swallowed his tongue at her request. He’d prepared for a rejection of at least one of them. “Both?”

“Yes. Please hurry.” The desperation in her plea had him ready to do whatever she asked.

He bent to remove his boots. Did she want him to undress? While he wasn’t opposed to putting his hands and mouth on her beautiful pale skin, taking care of his own needs crossed his mind, too. Unfortunately, finesse probably wouldn’t find a place in their encounter. His shirt and pants landed on top of his shoes. In less than a minute, he crossed to the fancy bed.

PC rounded the end to stand on the other side, just as naked as Quayde. They’d agreed not to fight over her, but sharing her hadn’t come up in the conversation. He took another step closer while Quayde fought to make his legs work.

Stopping an arm’s length from her, PC cleared his throat. “Tell us what you want, darlin’. We’ll do our best to accommodate.”

She reached a hand out to each of them. “Lick my cunt while Quayde kisses me and sucks my nipples.”

The coarse language coming from her sweet mouth made Quayde’s cock twitch. His assumption that the ladies at Wyndham House only catered to their customers’ demands and ignored their own pleasure was wrong. Since he didn’t frequent the brothel, he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, because Ilona clearly knew what she wanted and how to get it.

Crawling to the center of the bed, he leaned in for a gentle brush of his lips against hers. She grasped him behind the neck, pulling him closer and thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Lust poured through his veins, and he met her invasion with an answering attack. For every forceful sweep, he gave as good as he got, finally plunging between her teeth for a thorough taste of his seductress.

Her moan vibrated through his jaw, and her fingernails scraped over his shoulders and upper back, the slight sting pushing his desire to a new level. She moaned again and wiggled beneath him. A glance past her waist gave him a pretty good indication about the source of her moaning. PC had removed her drawers and was licking a path along her inner thigh a few inches from the nest of curls.

Kissing his way down her neck, Quayde followed the expanse of soft skin to the generous mounds of her tits. With a palm cradling an overflowing handful, he traced a circle around her stiff nipple, pulling her corset out of the way for better access. Her subtle flowery smell brought a smile to his face. She was all woman, despite her wide streak of independence.

He sucked a ripe berry between his lips and plucked at the other with his free hand. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter than Ilona. When her fist closed around his dick, every muscle in his body tensed in an effort to stop the pressure building in his balls. “Darlin’, the fun’s going to be over before it starts if you keep that up.”

“Then we’ll have to go again, won’t we? I need your cock in my mouth. Now. I want you to come when I come.” Her plea severed his self-control.

Gripping her narrow waist, he lifted her sideways off the pillows and straddled her head. Before he even took aim for her delicious lips, she pulled his hips lower, laving his balls with her tongue. From his vantage point, he had the perfect view of PC’s face buried between her thighs. She bucked and groaned as her mouth closed around Quayde’s sac. The suction made his dick ache for release.

Focusing on her tight nipples again, Quayde rolled both pink tips with his fingers and thumbs, hoping to last until she reached the pinnacle. “Are you close, Ilona? Your mouth feels so damn good.”

The wet heat on his testicles abruptly changed to a moist tunnel sucking his cock deeper and deeper, until the crown touched the back of her throat. Her tongue traced the blood-filled veins, stealing his breath and kicking his heartbeat up a notch. His balls contracted. “Suck her clit, PC! I can’t wait!”

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