4 STARS: "It took me a very long time to write this review for I had such a love/hate relationship with this book. LONDON'S MATES by Fel Fern is a fascinating story, filling well with eh books coming before, and full of great and engaging characters. I love the idea, the interactions, the potential. There is so much there--and so little space in which it is given to develop. And this is my gripe. We are told, again and again, how their relationship changes, how she is aroused, how sex is great but we are never shown so that our own nipples harden and we want to climb into the story. Charity, someone we have met in a previous story, is a defective lion: she cannot change and therefore has spent her whole life trying to prove her worth to her family and, in particular, her father the Lion king. She did all the rubbish jobs, those no one wants to do, those which will get her killed. One of these jobs was to go into wolf territory and assassinate an alpha's mate. She has no choice. She goes. And she is caught, caught by her commitment-phobic mate who is already entangled in a semi-relationship with a male wolf. The next few weeks are an intricate dance of distrust and love, of finding her feet and herself in the arms of those she loves. As I have said, the story is enthralling, the characters engaging and the tension high. There is no time in the book you are tempted to put it down, leaving it unfinished. You want to know what is at the end of the story. The problem is that I also do want to know what is at the end of a newspaper story I read but I rarely expect it to pull me in and let me feel the characters and story. And that is what is happening here. I am told her nipples are hard, but I cannot feel it. I am told about the weeks in which she is settling in and beginning to trust the men, but I cannot feel these weeks. The novella is 22,000 words long, there is enough space left to turn it into a real story and this is why the novel disappointed me so much in the end. Nevertheless, it is a great story, well worth the hour it will take you to read it. If you do not need the sensual engagement of a story but just want the thrill of a tale, then this book is for you. But even if you want more, the story is time well spent. " -- Christine Blackthorn, The Romance Reviews
“Charity, do you want to die so badly?” London finally asked.
She flinched back from the words. Her restrained hands curled and uncurled into fists. Protests and excuses hovered on the tip of her tongue, but vehemently denying his accusations when any shifter could smell the truth felt childish. Perhaps some part of her had had enough of living a half-existence.
When London’s large hand closed over one clenched fist, she jerked back, but he did nothing but stroke her skin.
“W-what are you doing?” Charity whispered.
London looked annoyed. “When I was twelve, my brothers and I stumbled upon an injured kitten on the roadside. Connor wanted to eat it, Max told me to leave it because caring for it took too much effort, but I kept it. The only way to calm the thing down was pet it.”
“You’re comparing me to a kitten?” Charity asked, outraged.
“You remind me very much of that kitten. She was by all means, small and insignificant, but the defiance she’d shown me while I cared for her taught me strength went beyond physical.” He actually grinned. “I just wanted to see the fire in those emerald eyes again.”
Charity shook her head, ignoring London’s soothing touch. She couldn’t stop her body from shaking. Fuck. What was this man doing to her? Each of his words struck her as well as any physical blow. The game had gone far enough.
“Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”
“Do you now?” London asked.
“I’d rather you torture me then play fucking mind games with me. You treat all your prisoners like this? Toy with them, make them compliant, then go for the strike?” Charity demanded.
He growled, baring his teeth suddenly, and the tense lines on his face made Charity draw back, but she had no place to retreat to. Seeing his slightly sharpening canines made her remember she wasn’t just dealing with any dangerous werewolf, but an alpha and everyone knew an alpha’s temper was volatile.
“You don’t know me well enough to judge me, kitten. Apologize.’ London said, his control returning. His canines slid back and his eyes were back to human-gray again.
“No.” Charity stared him down, even when he snarled. “I swore never to apologize or cower to any fucking shifter again just because he thinks he owns the world.”
Charity didn’t see London move. His chair clattered loudly on the bare concrete floor and suddenly he stood in front of her, tilting her chin upward so she looked up at the downing fury in his amber eyes. Not fury, she realized a second too late, but darker and complicated emotions.
“It’s your fault, Charity. Your defiance is what calls to me, it’s what forces me to do the inconceivable,” London said harshly.
Just the brush of his clothes against her own shouldn’t be enough to call their sleeping beasts, but it did. Her lioness stalked and assessed the frightening large gray beast circling her. Charity wasn’t sure how she knew if their clothes were gone and their flesh kissed, they were both damned.
“Do the inconceivable?” Charity asked, finally finding her tongue.
“To do this.”
London leaned down and kissed her. A man and a dominant wolf like London didn’t do gentle. Unfortunately, Charity had a weakness for such men despite the bravado she always wore in public. His mouth was a vacuum of heat, pulling her towards him. London didn’t kiss. He devoured every inch of her lips, nibbling and sucking, thrusting his tongue between her waiting and half-opened lips.
Charity wanted to touch, to eliminate the last barrier between them, but her hands were frustratingly chained. So, when London began exploring her body, she welcomed his touch. Some part of her screamed logic stated one shouldn’t crave the touch of the centuries-old enemy of her family. Another part answered London had been right. Her family’s war didn’t involve her.
Her father’s message had been clear. Charity was now on her own, free from the chains that bound her all her life to a family to who wanted nothing but to get rid of her since her birth. She was now free to make her own decisions.
“One last time, kitten. I won’t ask again. Will you let Ferus and me fuck you?” London asked after he parted from their mouth. “Claim you. Make you ours.”
His last few words made her shiver, and made her look at her reflection.
Charity no longer recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror. Disheveled hair, looking a bewildered and even a little slutty with her hands held up her hand. Her dress practically begging to be torn off, a powerful man behind her while another man watched at the corner. She felt a little wanton maybe, but also incredibly wild and free when she felt like a trapped bird all her life.
For the first time too, it finally struck her that what existed between the three of them might not just be momentary lust or sheer insanity, but something else. Love perhaps? Lasting and consuming, if she wanted it, were the unspoken words London and Ferus didn’t have to say.
They didn’t need to when their bodies could perfectly convey meaning.
“Yes, take me,” she breathed, gasping when he turned her, so her back touched the mirror. Keeping her hands restrained, London used his other to yank down her lace panties. Impatience made him growl and rip out the tiny fabric.
She touched his arm. “Hold on a second, mister. Those were new.”
“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to buy you new ones, kitten.” He fingered her pussy, smug little smile on his lips when she impatiently thrust her mound at him. “So fucking wet.”
“Are you going to fuck me, or tease me?” She demanded.
“Both, love. Both. First, Ferus wants to hear you come.”
He lowered his head, mouth closing on one of her hardened buds, sucking hard. Charity bit down her tongue, groaning as he lavished the same attentions to the other. He slid two fingers into her drenched cunt, beginning to pump, while keeping his thumb circling over her clit.
“Fuck it, London. I’m going to come even before you fuck her.” Ferus groaned.
“Our poor Ferus. Shall we indulge him, kitten?” London asked, lifting his mouth from her tits.
“Let go of me,” Charity said. Uncertainty crossed his handsome features, reminding her painfully of how much she could easily hurt him. Before he could misinterpret, she added. “I’ve a better position in mind.”
He looked relieved. “Your leg?”
“We both know it’s healed up long ago.” He released her. When he caught her looking at the curtain, he smirked. “What?”
“Don’t worry. They won’t come until we’re done.”
“You should have told us that earlier!” Both Charity and Ferus said at the same time.
“Well, where’s the fun in that? Now weren’t you going to get into position, kitten?” London asked.
Charity offered a hand out to Ferus, inviting him to join them. Warmth filled her when he lifted her hand and gave it a kiss before she went on her hands and knees. Instantly, she felt London’s hand palming her ass.
“Oh, I agree this is much better.”
“I have to ask you to kindly shut up, alpha, or she might change her mind,” Ferus reminded him.
Little chances of that happening. Her lioness twitched impatiently inside her and she was drenched and horny as hell. The two wolves better not back out from their promise, intruding on her like that. Charity reached out for Ferus’s ready shaft, closing her fingers over his base and applying a little pressure like she knew he liked.
Her tongue darted out, licking away the pre-cum at his tip. Ferus groaned above her just as she felt London’s hands parting her legs, teasingly pressing his cock head to her slit. Didn’t help his hand reached down to circle her clit, sending jolts of pleasure to her tits and pussy.
Ferus wounded his fingers into her hair impatiently and Charity finally closed her mouth over his throbbing prick. He sighed above her, as she applied careful suction with every inch she covered until he hit the back of her throat. London chose that moment to grip her hips and sunk mercilessly into her cunt hilt deep.
Charity remembered to breathe in around Ferus’s cock. She clenched and unclenched the muscles of her pussy, but London didn’t move at first. Just remained there, buried in her, filling her completely and staking his claim only he and Ferus could breach her. She shuddered around him. Remembering Ferus, she drew out of him, before diving back.
“Fuck.” Ferus grunted, tightening his grip on her hair. The pain sent a delicious thrill through her, adding another layer to the pressure building inside her. Behind her, London began to move, thrusting in and out of her with deep and steady rhythms.