STORY EXCERPT

Predictably, there were bouncers at the entrance into the club, and he even felt magic sizzle over his skin. A ward, he realized. The witch seemed to be resourceful, but no shield, be it physical or otherwise, could keep Mason from his mate.

“Hey, you,” one of the bouncers told him. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Mason didn’t even bother to answer. He just punched the guy in the face, and the strength of the blow made the man slump to the ground unconscious. The second bouncer cursed and retrieved a gun, but didn’t get the chance to use it. In a few well-placed kicks, he took out his opponent, without even breaking a sweat. Another time, he might have enjoyed grinding their faces in, just for standing in his way, but now, he was too keen on getting inside.

Just as he thought this, the door to the club opened, and a handsome human appeared in the doorway. He looked irritated. “What do I have to do for you people to get the message? You’re not welcome here.”

Mason froze. His muscles and his vocal chords simply refused to work in the face of his mate. The man was everything Mason had yearned for once upon a time, and still wanted now. Sure, he seemed a bit upset at the moment, but surely, if Mason mentioned the bouncers’ hostility toward him, his mate would understand.

However, things didn’t happen the way he predicted. The human said something Mason didn’t understand, and he found himself propelled ten feet away by an unseen force. He shook himself and got up, finally grasping his predicament. It seemed fate had a way of toying with him. Hewitt Moore was his mate.

“Well, hello to you, too, little witch,” he said, grinning. “My apologies for the slight…rudeness. It seems you just can’t find good help these days, and I may have lost my temper.”

A vein twitched in Hewitt’s temple. “Right. Well, I didn’t ask for your approval. Please leave, or I’ll find myself forced to do something truly unpleasant.”

“I very much doubt I could dislike anything you did,” Mason answered. It was so strange. He’d come here to kick Hewitt’s ass, and now he was flirting. What in the world was wrong with him? He should be swooping in and taking what belonging to him, exchanging pleasure not words. True, the banter did feel kind of nice, but that was beside the point.

But there was something else not immediately apparent bothering him. Even with Hewitt right there in front of him, the beast felt restless. The intensity of the pull seemed to be amplified by a factor other than Hewitt.

Just as Mason wondered what this could be about, he felt it, the presence of another feral. It was a testament to Mason’s distraction that he’d only noticed now. He or she was closing in fast, approaching Hewitt. Mason frowned, the wolf’s hackles rising. Mine, it roared. Stay away.

In a flash, Mason reached Hewitt’s side. The witch’s eyes widened, and he seemed moments away from casting another spell, but Mason moved too fast. He placed himself between Hewitt and whatever feral came his way, ready to take on the threat.

Unfortunately, the wolf felt both angry and puzzled. The aggression that always appeared when he faced one of his own reared its ugly head just like he expected, but there was something else, a heat that he couldn’t comprehend.

Seconds later, another man joined them in front of the club. He glowered at Mason, his blue eyes seemingly throwing daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Hewitt drew an irritated breath and stepped out of Mason’s reach, although Mason was fairly certain the man’s order had been directed at him, not at Hewitt. “Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?” Hewitt asked.

“I’m not your puppy.” The second feral growled. “Who is this guy?”

“Mason Kale, at your disposal.”

Before the other man could say anything else, Mason attacked. He could sense hostility, and he knew he had to establish dominance now. The wolf within howled as their bodies came into contact. He shifted into his animal form just as his enemy did the same.

Jaws snapped at fur-covered flesh, claws scratched, looking for vulnerable spots. Mason didn’t know who drew first blood, but he couldn’t care less. Angry satisfaction coursed through him as he battled his opponent. He was stronger. He knew. He could feel it, and he sensed the other feral acknowledged it as well. And yet, the man didn’t give up. He struggled with a despair Mason admired, the same one Mason himself experienced at the thought of his mate in danger.

All of Mason’s primal instincts rose inside of him. He was an Alpha. He wanted to dominate, to have the other wolf bare his neck and raise his tail for him. The desire to fight and to couple mixed together. Mate, his wolf howled again. My mate. Surrender.

Not giving the other feral a chance to keep fighting, Mason moved faster than lightning and pinned his opponent down, fangs at his jugular. He snarled, sending a clear message. Yield.

A few tense seconds later, his opponent shifted into his two-legged form. “All right,” he said between gritted teeth. “You win. Do whatever you want to me. Just don’t hurt my mate.”

For whatever reason, Mason had not expected the man to say that, but even so, it didn’t surprise him. His wolf had known about this before Mason himself found out. He shifted as well, but didn’t get up, grinning as the current position made their naked bodies come into contact. “Oh, I plan to hurt Hewitt,” he murmured. “I’ll hurt him real good—and I’ll do the same to you.”

ADULT EXCERPT

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.