Hunting the Jackal

Dimly Rashon heard Amarie gasp before need pushed aside rational thought. He kept her hand in a vise grip as he returned the kiss, anchoring her as his free hand cupped the back of Kurik’s head. Kurik pressed against him, large hand slipping down Rashon’s chest and abdomen to wrap around his cock. He moaned in appreciation, lifting his hips to push himself through the other man’s fingers.

Amarie swallowed loudly as she pulled her hand free. “I, uh, I’d better go,” she stammered, rising and heading for the door.

Rashon grinned at her. “Sure you don’t want to stay?”

She jerked to a stop. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she swallowed again. And was that a whimper? Then she stepped through the doorway. “You guys keep on with the celebration sex. I’ll see about breakfast.”

Kurik eased back as the door slammed shut. “For a moment there, I thought you’d forgotten I was here.”

“As if I could.” Rashon pulled his lover back on top, enjoying the sensation of their cocks rubbing together. “As if I want to.”

“Right.” Kurik squeezed him again. “Is this for me or for her?”

“Both,” he admitted, because he couldn’t, wouldn’t, lie to Kurik. Not about this. “I want it to be for both. Right now, it’s for you. Fuck, don’t stop.”

Kurik stroked him as he continued his teasing. “It would serve you right if I did. I know what kissing her did to you. Kissing her instead of me. You got hard for her instead of me.”

“Not instead of.” Rashon lifted his hips, needing more. Kurik had a way of making him forget how to speak in complete sentences. “Never instead of.”

“Huh. This is what you want from her, right?” Kurik asked, yellow eyes alight with teasing, need and concern. “You want her kisses, to taste her tongue.”

Kurik kissed him then, hot and wet and open, tongues sliding alongside each other in a dance mimicked by their erections. This kiss was so different from the one with Amarie, carnal and feral compared to gentle and almost innocent. Rashon moaned, deep and guttural, as his lover kissed and nipped a path from lips to chin to throat, biting hard enough to leave teeth marks. He hissed as Kurik bit a trail to his left nipple, the pleasure knocking on the edge of pain just the way he liked it.

“Is this what you want Amarie to do to you?” Kurik demanded, softening the sting of his bite with a long sucking pressure that had Rashon digging his fingers deep into the other man’s shoulders. “You want her to do this while I watch?”

“Yes. Gods, yes,” Rashon confessed. The vision Kurik painted with his words had him panting, his balls drawn up and tight with the need to come.

Kurik stopped, putting space between them, his eyes darkening with concern. “Maybe we should wait for the priestess to give you a clean bill of health.”

“No.” Rashon lifted his hips. “I think you know how to make sure I’ve recovered. I want you. I want her. I want you together.”

“You think you’re ready?” Kurik nodded toward the bedroom door. “You think she’s ready?”

“I don’t know.” Rashon sighed, worry pushing desire away for the moment. “I hope so. But we probably scared her off.”

“She might be scared, but she’s also aroused.” Kurik paused, staring down at him. “I know I was dragging my ass on this, but after what happened, I don’t think we should wait anymore.”

Rashon held his breath. “So you really want to do this? You want to ask her to be our third?”

“Yeah. What if she doesn’t want to breed? She’s rejected every attempt by the other males to get with her.”

“Or maybe it’s because you growl at every male but me and Markus who come near her. Besides, just because she hasn’t bred yet doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to. Maybe she’s waiting for us to make our move.”

“Then we should make it. It feels good when we’re all together.” Doubt colored Kurik’s features. “I don’t know if it’s going to work, though.”

“Why not? She’s been with our clan long enough to know female jackals can have any number of mates for however long they want to be mated. Quite a few of the women live with two men, raising the children together.”

“But they don’t share her at the same time as far as I know. The men don’t share each other.” Kurik fisted his hands. “She kissed you, not me. She chose you, not me. I won’t be kicked out of our bed.”

Rashon turned to the other man, belatedly seeing the hurt and worry, the deep love beneath. It amazed him again that they were together. With so few female jackals in their clan, the men had adopted other sexual outlets as a matter of necessity. Markus didn’t want discord between his warriors or the females, so he allowed everyone freedom of choice. Rashon had had his time with a couple of the women. He knew Kurik had, too. Neither of them had found a long-term mate until they found each other. They’d been lovers exclusively for the past hundred years, and Rashon couldn’t imagine not having Kurik in his life.

“We’re a package deal, and our bed is still our bed,” Rashon told him. “I still want you. I still need you.”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Rashon wrapped a hand around the back of the other man’s neck, pulling him forward in a bruising kiss, a clash of lips, tongue and teeth. An edge of desperation made them both rough, almost clumsy, but Rashon didn’t mind. Right now, this was what he needed—what they both needed. Hunger flared, bright and burning. He couldn’t reach for the lube fast enough.

Finally, finally, Kurik pushed into him, a slow invasion that left him shaking. “I almost lost you,” Kurik said, his voice and expression stark. “If Markus hadn’t found that priestess—”

“Don’t. Don’t think about that. Think about this.” Rashon shifted beneath him, breath shortening at the eye-rolling pleasure. “I’m here, and I love you. Now shut up and fuck me.”

A wicked gleam lit Kurik’s eyes as he grinned. “Yes, sir.”

CHAPTER TWO

Confused and flustered and more than a little aroused, Amarie made her way back to her bedroom. She needed a cold shower. She needed a workout. Mostly though, she needed someone to explain to her what had just happened—and why.

Rashon had kissed her. He’d kissed her! And not just a light, sisterly peck, but a breath-stealing, toe-curling mesh of mouths. She would have excused it as a momentary confusion on his part as he’d awakened from his healing, something he wasn’t aware he was doing. Except that they’d been mid-discussion, and she’d kissed him back like her life had depended on it. Then he’d kissed Kurik, and then—

Then he’d asked her if she’d wanted to stay.

She’d turned tail and ran as if a horde of the undead were chasing her. Because she’d really, really wanted to stay. Wanted to watch them enjoy each other. Wanted to join in the giving and receiving of pleasure.

She wrenched the shower on, her senses still reeling. Gods. They were her friends, and she’d needed that friendship. Lately though, they’d become much more, and she knew exactly when it had started.

There had been one night after patrolling that they’d come home, showered and all piled into Rashon and Kurik’s bed to watch a laughable horror movie. When she’d awakened the next morning it was to discover Rashon spooned up close behind her, his arm around her waist and one hand cupping her breast. She’d had her head on Kurik’s chest and her hand dangerously close to his groin. Both men had been aroused even while deeply asleep. She’d allowed herself one full minute of enjoying the sensation of waking up between them, of entertaining the dream that they’d been aroused for her before common sense had prevailed and she’d retreated to her own room.

Now all she could think about was all of them together, bodies sliding together, mouths clashing. Hands gripping, stroking, bringing pleasure. It was only a fantasy, not something she thought would ever happen despite the teasing offer Rashon had made. Even if she did find herself wrapped in pleasure between them, it would be a temporary fling. It wouldn’t be forever. It couldn’t be forever, especially when she told them the truth about why she’d been banished from her old clan.

A whimper eased out despite her attempt at control. She wanted that, wanted it with a bone-deep need bordering on desperation. She was more aware of Rashon than anyone she’d ever met. She was drawn to the smooth bronze of his skin, the teasing glint in his liquid copper eyes and the open warmth of his personality. He was like the bright dawn sun, chasing nighttime fears away. Kurik, on the other hand, was the might of the noon sun as it began its descent. Power rode every inch of his muscular, golden body, but he never used it to intimidate her. From the shoulder-length shock of hair they called “Seti-red” to the clarity in his amber gaze, Kurik was the epitome of masculine virility. They both were.

Her soap-slicked fingers slid down her belly to part her folds, stroking her clit. She would love to watch them making love, watch their tongues dueling as their cocks rubbed together. Caught up in the fantasy, she rode her fingers as her imagination drove her higher. She imagined joining them, sucking on Rashon while Kurik took him. Kurik’s thick length slowly filling her while Rashon sucked on her clit. The sensual overload of both men thrusting deep into her sex, over and over until she screamed in ecstasy.

Orgasm slammed into her. Biting her lip against a groan, she leaned against the water-warmed tile, hips jerking as she milked every last sensation. It took long moments to regain enough control to wash her hair then finish her shower. The release had taken the edge off her need, but the hunger remained. Now that she had the memory of Rashon’s kiss to fuel her fantasies, she didn’t know how she could be in the same room with either man without combusting.

But it was more than just the physical need that she hungered for. She’d come a long way since she’d been accepted into their clan, and Rashon was largely responsible for that. With his ready smiles, gentle teasing and easygoing attitude, Rashon had a way of lightening her soul, helping her break out of her self-imposed shell.

Kurik, well, he had a protective streak larger than the Great Pyramid. He was a bulwark that shielded her from the other males. It was an unusual experience, having someone protective of her. Not that she relied on it—part of being accepted as a guard meant proving she could hold her own—but it was comforting and amazing to know that Kurik had her back.

At least, he did before. Now, she wondered if she’d damaged that friendship by returning Rashon’s kiss and using the men in her sexual fantasies. Why? Why would Rashon kiss her like, like she was his partner? Kurik had been right there beside him. Rashon had to know that his lover, his partner, his mate, was beside him on the bed. His actions didn’t make sense. Blessed Anubis, what would Kurik think of her kissing his mate as if she was in heat?

Gods. She finished blow-drying her hair and went in search of clothing. Only Rashon and Kurik brought her to this edge. Only the thought of lying naked and sated with them made her nipples tighten and her breath shorten with want. Was it because she’d considered them safe, knowing they were only interested in each other?

That wasn’t true anymore, was it? Rashon’s kiss had changed things. Now, a new awareness settled into her skin, awareness of Rashon and Kurik and the heat between them. The only sex she knew had been about procreation instead of pleasure, but now she wondered. Wondered what it would be like to be hot and sweaty and panting with need for another person, to lick the salty satin of a lover’s skin, to taste the very essence of their pleasure. Wondered what would happen if the casual camaraderie she felt with Rashon and Kurik, the casual comfort she experienced when she hung out with them, deepened into something more.

Frowning, she stood in front of her dresser. As a guard, she didn’t have to wonder what to wear—loose fitting cargo pants and a dark T-shirt topped by a jacket was standard daytime wear, her jackal form her nighttime uniform. No, she dawdled because of her newly discovered obsession: brightly colored cotton undies and matching bras. She hadn’t had her own money in her former clan and hadn’t the first clue what to do with her first payment except turn it over to Kurik and Rashon for room and board. They’d given it back to her and taken her shopping instead, which she discovered she liked very much.

She chose lime-green bikini panties with blue polka dots and a matching bra, then strapped on her favorite knives before pulling on a pair of dark brown cargo pants. A long-sleeved turquoise tee came next, then her low-heeled boots. Dressed, she picked up her gun holster, fastened it to her belt. Most of the old school jackals preferred fangs and claws as their weapons of choice, and she’d learned to fight and defend with her natural gifts, too. The human weapons gave her an advantage however, and when you fought for your life, you took every advantage you could.