[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Paranormal Cowboy Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M/M, shape-shifters, consensual BDSM, whipping, sex toys, HEA]
In Catamount, Texas, serpent-shifter Rosa Santos is an unusual woman. She's unattached in a community where pride membership is key, and she's a Domme. When Robb Jackson, the alpha's lead Tomcat, begins to pursue her, she's determined to keep the control she's worked so hard to achieve.
Robb is a panther-shifter, a Dom at the local bondage club, and he's falling in love with the one person he should avoid at all costs—Rosa. Fellow Tomcats Steve Harris and Marcus Gallagher are also panther-shifters who, to relieve stress, submit to Rosa's domination. They've fallen in love with their Domme and know their boss has too.
When Rosa is kidnapped to harvest her unusual blood for chemical weapons, her men are forced to track her to New Orleans, where they find some unlikely allies and learn the problems in Catamount may have just begun.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Josie Hunter is a Siren-exclusive author.
On Tuesday, Rosa looked up through the one-way mirror when she heard the electronic chime of the door announce Catamount Dance Company had a visitor. Her heart gave a crazy little dance, and she involuntarily squeezed her thighs together to stop the rush of liquid pooling in her pussy. Robb Jackson.
Walking around her desk, she adjusted her hot-pink crop top to accentuate her cleavage. She watched him checking her out as she moved across the studio, her ponytail sliding like a warm caress across her back, her hips swaying beneath the lace frills of her vintage black tutu skirt. The heels of her tap shoes clicked a slow, sensual rumba against the hardwood floor in complete contrast to the samba-like beat of her heart. She met him halfway across the dance floor and could only imagine the pace of his heart. He looked as cool and collected as always, even though she’d nearly burst into hot, licking flames at the sight of him.
“Hi yourself.” Robb gave her a lazy grin. “Love the outfit.”
She shrugged. “The little girls love tutus. I have a mother-daughter class in a few minutes. We wear the tutus for every class.” She gestured toward her shoes. “Even tap.”
“It suits you.”
She nearly blushed at the compliment, a thoroughly awkward and very un-Rosa-like thing to do. She tucked a piece of wayward hair behind her ear, struggling to rein in her emotions. “Have you decided to take me up on that offer of a dance class?” she asked in her most beguiling tone.
Robb boldly studied her from head to toe, though he’d already studied every inch of her. Heat infused her face again, and she hoped beyond hope she hadn’t turned the same shade as her top. She couldn’t understand why she felt so flustered around him. Instead of getting more comfortable with him, each moment they spent together had become more torturous than the last. That grin had promise, but he’d grown quiet. Had she said the wrong thing? Why couldn’t she be more like Carly? Her friend never tap-danced around her feelings like this. She just came out and said what she thought.
Just when Rosa thought she would explode waiting for him to respond, he finally focused back on her face.
“Do we really need a class, Rosie? Isn’t that what we’re already doing? Dancing around each other without really touching?”
Rosa was tall. Most snake-shifters were. Even so, she still had to lift her face higher to stare directly in his eyes. “Why do you keep calling me Rosie? No one calls me Rosie outside of the pride.”
He reached toward her, and she steeled herself, trying not to flinch as he caught the length of her ponytail in his hand and pulled it over her shoulder. “I decided I do.”
“You can’t just decide something like that.” She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his hand. Big mistake. A flare of heat surged up her arm and tingled across her chest. Her nipples rose to taut peaks beneath the thin spandex of her top. Despite that, or maybe because of it, she lifted his hand away from her body and took a step backward. “Rosie sounds too…” Any word she chose would be wrong.
His dark, rumbling voice wrapped around her. “Personal.” Not a question. A statement. A tiny smile hovered on his mouth. He knew the effect he had on her. He nearly sucked her willpower from her body with simply the sound of his voice.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Personal.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“Sí, I like it,” she said softly, and then wanted to kick her own ass. How did this man make her say such things? “I…I mean I don’t like it. It’s…it’s…far too—” She closed her mouth before more words could fall out. He had her stammering now. Damn the man.
“Personal,” Robb said again.
When they opened the door, Steve’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor. Rosa wore her signature red mask, but below that, she wore nothing but her red fuck-me pumps and a red leather corset, cinched tightly around her waist. The bodice pushed her breasts so high the tips of her nipples showed. Her creamy skin offered two mounds of delectable temptation. He wanted to lick his way from her cleavage to her mouth, but he couldn’t take his eyes off that killer corset. It covered her torso and reached below her hips, tapering to a point right at her bare pussy. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off those swollen pink pussy lips. The panther in him could smell her anxiety and stress from where he stood, and the animal nearly howled at the sensation that skittered under Steve’s skin. It felt like tiny hairs moving with a breeze, and Steve had to pull himself together so he wouldn’t shift from the power of the sight alone, let alone the emotion that pulsed around her in waves. Even that, though, couldn’t quite overpower the scent of her arousal, that musky scent that tugged at him like a hypnotic lure. He wanted to kneel at her feet, he wanted to lick between those soft pink lips, and he wanted to taste every blessed inch of her.
He was hard as a fucking rock.
“Holy Mother of God,” Marcus whispered.
“Ditto,” Steve said.
She tapped a hot-pink flogger against her bare thigh. The wispy red tails licked her skin and curled around her muscles, reminding Steve of why they were here. Tonight promised to be something special.
“Strip,” she ordered.
She wouldn’t have to tell him twice. Before she’d taken a step toward them, his cowboy hat sailed across the room. He tossed his boots to the corner, ripped off his shirt, and had his pants and boxers halfway down his legs. Marcus was a bit slow on the draw. His pants were down his legs, but he’d neglected to take off his boots. As he hobbled around trying to remove them, Rosa moved quietly behind him. The fingers of the flogger skittered across his bare ass and whipped between his legs, giving him one hell of a wallop on his balls. He yelped, and Steve couldn’t help laughing.
Within seconds, she’d swung the flogger in his direction, snapping it against his hard-as-wood dick. Pain had never felt so good. He almost came. She sauntered toward him, her hips swaying, her breasts riding high, and her pussy lips giving him a pretty pout. She leaned close and put her mouth against his ear.
“Can you smell me, Harris?”
Her tongue flicked out and touched his ear. “And do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“What would you like to do?” Her eyelashes brushed against his skin, and his balls tightened.
“I’d like to lick every inch of you.”
She leaned back and stared into his eyes. He saw something there he hadn’t seen before. A spark of vulnerability, as though she doubted his words. It hurt him to see that, and his panther felt the same. Rosa Santos was one of the strongest women—hell, strongest shifters—he knew. “What else would you like to do to me?”
“I’d like to suck on your clit.”
“Hard?” she whispered.
“Very hard. So hard you come in my mouth.”
“Ah, that sounds pleasurable.” She ambled around behind him, her perfume and scent clouding his head in a sensual fog. He felt the threads of the flogger drift between his ass cheeks. Her voice came right against his ear. “And would you fuck me, Harris? Fuck me until I screamed your name?”
“Say it,” she demanded.
“I want to fuck you, Mistress,” he said. “Fuck you until you scream my name.”
She tilted her head, and the dark fall of her hair skimmed his bare arm. She raised her arm and brought the flogger flashing across his ass. He felt the sting radiate through his butt cheeks straight to his cock. His dick lurched up, almost bouncing against his stomach. She pressed her body against his, and he felt the heat of her penetrate every molecule of his body, deep toward his inner animal. His panther reveled in the heat. Reaching down, she cupped his balls and pressed her palm against his dick, rubbing up and down, hard, fast, the friction burning his skin. He tried desperately to hold back his groans, but the moment one slipped out, she removed her hand.
“Did I tell you to make a noise?”
He met her eyes.
“Did I tell you to look at me?” When he shook his head, she pressed the top of his head. “Get on your knees and await my pleasure.”
He sank blissfully to his knees and found himself staring at those swollen lips and the tiny pink clit peeking between them. He inhaled deeply, and his body swayed toward her. She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. She stared down at him.
“Do you like my body?”
“I adore your body.”
“You’d like to touch me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.” The word came out in a heated hiss. He heard every bit of his own desire in that one word.
She stood back and glanced between them. Marcus hadn’t taken his eyes off her breasts.