37. Better Than Oysters

37

Better Than Oysters

GLEN

W hen Flor had teased Brand about "honoring the moon," I'd laughed along with her. But what I was witnessing—what I was taking part in—was as close to a prayer as anything I'd experienced. I felt the presence of something almost divine as I watched Brand worship her with his body. Felt as if the Moon Goddess Herself was present as I touched the woman who somehow, though I did not deserve it, allowed me to drop to my knees and worship alongside my brother.

I knew I hadn't earned this moment. Nonetheless, I drank in her cries of pleasure as she moved under Brand's massive form, her own miraculous body somehow allowing him to thrust fully inside.

Flor was still thin, but her breasts had grown more lush with the regular meals since she'd escaped Southern. Her red hair was longer, almost sweeping her shoulders, and glowed like a dark net filled with rubies in the dim cabin light.

What would she look like, swollen with a child? A pup growing inside that concave belly, her breasts heavy and full… I shook the thought away, though my wolf howled as if he was on the hunt, chasing a moonlit shadow, years away in the woods.

She blinked up at me, a pink flush covering her cheeks as I stared. Her eyes were where the greatest change had occurred. She'd always had a fierce look, but now it was tempered with a touch of gentleness. "Glen. I need you."

At first, I didn't respond, until Brand slowed his thrusts, rising so that he was holding her hips, balanced on his knees. She lifted herself onto her hands and turned to face him. "I love you," she repeated.

He lifted a dark eyebrow. "But you need him, too, little flower."

She nodded, then turned to me. "Kiss me."

She didn't need to ask twice. I slid across the thick bearskin rug and cupped her cheeks in my hands. Her lips parted under mine, and I moved with her as Brand continued to fuck her gently from behind.

When she groaned out her pleasure, I smiled into the kiss. I'd never once imagined that the first time I kissed my mate, my friend would be sliding inside her. Never thought she'd proclaim her love for another man, while I felt nothing but delight.

Jealousy-flavored delight, sure. Someday, those words would be mine.

Someday, I would earn her love. Someday, I would do something heroic, something that would prove to her that I'd earned my place at her side, in her bed. She would welcome my claim then, and wear my mating bite.

I had no more than finished the thought, when she shook her head, as if she'd read my thoughts and disagreed. She kissed me harder, deeper, her teeth nipping my lower lip, until she broke away.

"I need more," she gasped.

Brand's dark eyes met mine as he held her up again, her back pressed to his torso, her body once more on display. "You want him in your mouth, my mate? Want to taste him?"

I felt the unusual sensation of a blush work its way over my cheeks. I'd done many things in my past, experimented with other shifters. But this was by far the most intimate, the most important moment of my life so far.

A hint of mischief darkened her gaze. "I don't know how."

"I think he'd like you to learn on him," Brand said, nuzzling her shoulder, his teeth moving over the mark of his claiming bite. I stared at her neck on the other side, at Finn's mark, then at her small breast.

That was where I would mark her, if she let me. On the soft swell that made my mouth water.

Or maybe on her thigh, where Brand's right hand dropped now, his fingers moving past the damp curls to her pussy and circling her clit. It was an impressive feat, holding her up with his left arm, and driving her closer to another climax with the other.

But when he stopped and spread her lips wide, tilting her so I could see his length where it stretched her small opening, I realized my own task—not tearing her away from him and pushing into that perfect pussy myself—might be the harder job. His cock was thick, but she was wet enough to take him, and his quick fingers kept her on the edge.

Brand chuckled darkly. "Brother? Don't keep our little flower waiting. I'll go slow."

"Do you want this, Flor?" I asked, moving closer, until her mouth was only inches from my swollen cock. "Only if you're sure."

"So sure." With that, Flor pulled away from Brand's loose grip, landing on her hands and snarling up at me. "If I'm bad at this, you'd better not say a damned thing."

"Just don't bite it off, and it will be the best moment of my entire life," I replied breathlessly, making her smile. I ignored Brand's rolling eyes and moved even closer, so Flor could reach me with her hand.

"So pretty," she murmured, as she played with me for a moment, cupping my balls and gripping me. I fought not to come instantly; her touch was like fire in my veins, more sensual than anything I'd ever felt before. And the sensations kept rising, forcing me to leash my own impulses, since my wolf wasn't any help at all.

After she slipped the end of my cock into her mouth and gave a first experimental suck, then moaned around my length and started experimenting with more vigorous actions, he was howling with delight. Shit. My teeth were lengthening as well.

Brand glared down at me. "Not yet."

"No," I agreed, though my wolf rebelled inside.

A thought flickered through my mind. Finn hadn't earned the right either, and he'd marked her. Maybe?—

"Ah!" I cried out as Flor reached under my balls and stroked my perineum with a spit-dampened finger, giving me a hard suck at the same time. I hadn't expected that, and it triggered my climax.

She held her mouth over my cock as I came, her own orgasm forcing her away at last. I watched as Brand pulled out and spilled over her back, rubbing his seed into her skin as she lay on the rug.

"Not bad," she muttered, licking her lips. "Not perfect, but not bad."

"Dream Girl?" I gasped, unsure what she meant. My performance? Hers?

Before I could start to panic, she went on. "Not the best thing I've ever eaten. But definitely not the worst."

Brand's shoulders shook, and I felt my jaw drop open again.

Flor sighed, closed her eyes, and curled up on the rug between the two of us. "Better than oysters. Not as nice as salted caramel." Before I could take a breath to argue with her, she was asleep.