Page 6 of Their Fated Magic

My thoughts keep working and other pictures form in my mind. “If we all have sex, will you have sex with each other? Like, dick to butthole? Or dick to mouth?”

“No!” they all say at once.

I feel myself grinning. “Are you sure? I’ve only got so many holes, but between all of you–”

Rinan sounds absolutely horrified as he says, “Tara, please, we don’t want to fuck each other. We just want to fuck…”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You,” Garrick says easily, giving me a smile that almost makes me forget what a douchebag he is.

I nod. “So one day, your dicks are all going to be waving about, and I’m just going to have to deal with them? Interesting.”

“Go to sleep,” Drogo grumbles, but he’s got a strange note to his voice I don’t recognize.

I turn to face him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. He’s got a scowl on his face, like usual, but his eyes are closed. So, assholes are still assholes when they’re sleeping? Good to know.

My thoughts begin to wander back to my mother’s message, and my body tenses. I should’ve told them. I’m not good at keeping secrets.

Garrick’s strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer to him, making the tension in my body slip away. Some part of me wants to fight him just to show him I haven’t forgiven him yet, but another part of me loves being pressed against him like this. And I feel like I deserve to feel good sometimes.

He leans his head into my hair and breathes in deeply, tightening his grip on me. Knowing how important scent is to shifters now, his action takes on a more… sexual energy, and I feel myself heating up.

My body fits into his like a glove.

Unfortunately for him, he was mean to me, and now I need a little time to decide if I even like him. I’ll let him hold me, because I like it, but this doesn’t mean I forgive him.

It does mean I’m comfortable though. My eyes flutter shut, and my breathing eases. A girl could get used to this.

FOUR

Tara

My eyes pop open as I feel myself being pulled backwards against someone else, and then there’s the obvious evidence of their arousal poking against my ass. The sound of someone breathing deeply against my hair cuts through the silence in the room, and, for some reason, makes my nipples harden. I turn my head to look behind me, expecting to see Garrick, and instead see Drogo, focused on me.

It’s weird. He’s so handsome when he isn’t being a jerk. His short brown hair tempts me to run my hands across it, just to see if it feels soft or spiky, and his deep brown eyes always make me feel like he’s got a million things running through his mind. His cheekbones are sharp and angular, and his brows are dark. All of it pulls together to make him feel as sharp and dangerous as broken glass.

His hands rub my hips, pulling me back a little harder. A gasp slips from my lips, and I realize that if we were naked, he’d be inside of me right now. Instinctually, I rub against him, just a little, and his eyes widen. His hands tighten on me, and he licks his lips, his mouth inching closer to mine.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, completely confused.

Drogo doesn’t like me. He’s made that much clear.

“You were up against Garrick, and I don’t want another man’s scent on you,” he says, his words edged with something I can’t quite figure out.

This man was never taught to share as a child, and it shows.

“Why?” I lay still as his hands rove over my body. He brushes my hair out of my face and smooths his hand down my arm and onto my hip, gripping it for a moment before continuing around my waist to my stomach. He holds his hand there, rubbing circles with his palm and pausing before inching a little further down. I suck in a breath, and he finally answers me.

“Because no wolf wants another man’s scent on his woman.” He slides his hand back up my stomach and stops right under my breast.

“Am I really your woman?” It comes out breathier than I intended.

His hands twitch on my skin, and he doesn't answer immediately.

“For now.” His response comes out as more of a growl than spoken words. He tosses the covers to the side, careful not to jostle anyone else as he untangles himself from our pile, gets up to find his clothes, and leaves the room, growling and grumbling softly as he goes.

I sigh, forever confused by these men, especially Drogo, with his possessive nature and gruffness toward me. It’s a huge contradiction. The man needs to decide what the hell he wants from me, and leave me alone until he does.

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