Gideon, picking up his cue, slid his hands under her, wrapped her around him, his cock trapped between their bodies, close to the point of decision. You'll let your brother fuck me without staking your claim first? You're playing with me, my lady. I'm commanding you. Begging you. I need you. He caught the hem of her skirt. I won't be gentle, my lady. You've pissed me off too much. I know. That makes you even harder. With a muttered curse, he opened his jeans, bunched the fabric of her garment in his fist against her lower back and drove into her. She'd apparently lubricated herself before this, for there was a slick-ness between her buttocks that took him in fast and deep. She cried out, part pain, part something else as Gideon drove into her in front. They were both big men, and their sizeable cocks filled her to the point that Jacob could feel the pressure of his brother in the channel of her pussy as he fucked her ass. Raw, visceral need. Nothing soft and feminine about this mo- ment. She was letting them be the base male animals they were. Encouraging it. Desiring it, even as Jacob sensed her genuine intent to give Gideon a female port in the storm he'd created of his life. It hadn't been a lie, he knew. She did understand his pain and sorrow, even if Gideon didn't believe she did. Whether it was a woman's intuition, her many years of life, her own experiences in losing her husband or whatever combination of vampire and Fey magic that made her what she was, she had that gift. She'd brought out re- sponses and emotions in Jacob he hadn't even known he had. He couldn't deny that, whether she was still compelling this moment or not. As she bucked up, the paleness of her throat was displayed, the bumps of her sternum, the slope of her breast over her heart. Though he knew her to be more than capable of defending herself, the melt- ing of her body in his grasp and the vulnerable offering of her throat to both an active and a former vampire hunter told him she trusted him to keep her safe, to protect her.
Her orgasm built like the strum of piano keys, playing along his length. It drew out the notes of his own response, making everything tighten until he was sure when he exploded it would rip him apart. Gideon's shoulders were bunched into rolls of hard muscle, his fin- gers gripping her hips with bruising force. His forearms brushed Ja- cob's, his thrusts knocking her ass harder onto his cock, her buttocks pressed against the top of Jacob's thighs. Gideon's eyes fastened on her throat, and he worked his way up her sternum, his lips curling back. "Sssh . . . " She caught his chin, even as her breath rasped out of her. "No . . . Gideon. No biting. " The smile was in her voice, but Jacob also heard the strain, for she was so close. He gave another powerful thrust, taking himself deep. Gideon's face contorted as he did the same in perfect sync, and Lys- sa's orgasm shattered her. She convulsed against their powerful grips, her cries elevating to a scream. They held on, Jacob stretching her, feeling the tight clench of her muscles, the rhythmic move- ments. He had to hold her tightly, for Gideon was thrusting into her just as hard, neither of them granting her any mercy, only wanting to feel the same type of mind-altering pleasure. Jacob closed his eyes and rode the release. Jetting hard, he bathed her inside with his seed as he heard his brother bellow in the grasp of a climax just as intense. Over all that, he reveled in Lyssa's cries, the rake of her nails that marked his neck. Her legs were wrapped around Gideon, Jacob buried so deeply into her that his feet were almost on top of his brother's. Air moved over his own balls each time his brother's testicles slapped the base of her cunt. When they finally came to a stumbling halt and he opened his eyes, he saw she had marked Gideon's shoulder with the nails of her other hand. Gideon's forehead had fallen to her shoulder, his own shoulders rising and falling fast, his hands still clutched on her hips. As if they were melded on every level, Jacob lifted his own hand as Lyssa reached up. Their hands overlapped to rest on Gideon's head, giving reassurance and comfort, encouraging him to take slow breaths, for his breathing was too deep and shuddering to be only from physical exertion.
In the midst of the maelstrom of response, this moment was quiet, separate. The eye of the storm. Jacob wanted to reach back through the years to touch his brother as he did now, to give him peace, to let him know he'd done well, help him heal. To let him know that he loved him, no matter what. None of the rest mat- tered. Jacob took some deep breaths of his own, feeling his lady's shoul- der blades pressed into his chest, her hair soft against his jaw. When he touched her chin, needing her, she obliged, lifting her face for a meeting of mouths, the taste of her tongue, the scrape of a fang. He was still learning how to kiss her without damage to his own mouth. Practice makes perfect, Sir Vagabond. Smiling against her lips despite the intensity of the past few mo- ments, he drew it out, exploring her mouth even further, tightening his grip on her throat. Through the third mark as well as lover's intu- ition, he felt her simmering and knew he would want her again soon, too. He was still hard. From the squeezing pressure he was experi- encing in her ass, he suspected Gideon was also. He ruffled his brother's hair, tugged on it, not to make him raise his head, but to continue that sense of comfort. Nearness. As he thought about the words Gideon had said to him at the diner, words that had cut so carelessly and brutally, he knew they meant nothing. Hadn't Lyssa proven as much when she'd laughed at Gideon for saying he didn't have a brother? While he might want to have a heart-to-heart with her about her methods, Lyssa had shown him the depths of his brother's despair and anger in a way separate from his own ego. So it was the most natural thing to say the words that came to his lips now. "You took good care of me, Gid, " he murmured. "You always did. And because you did such a good job, I don't need you to do it anymore. Do something for yourself for once. Give yourself happi-ness again so you can remember what's worth fighting for and what's not. " Gideon slowly raised his head. Lyssa's fingers were still tangled in his hair, and as he moved, her palm slid down his face to his neck, to a bare shoulder.
As he blinked at her, Jacob could see the emotions warring in his face. "You made me do that, " Gideon said at last. "I could lie to you and say yes, " Lyssa responded, "but the only compulsion I used on you, either of you, was in the first five minutes. When I took your towel, it was your free will that let it go. " Gideon withdrew from her, though he did it with courtesy. Even so, Jacob's hands tightened on her protectively, uncertain of Gideon's mood now. As Jacob eased out of her, letting her feet touch the floor, his brother apparently caught the wariness of his stance, for a muscle ticked in his jaw. "She's safe with me, Jacob. I . . . " He broke off, arched a brow. "Am I your guest or your prisoner, Lady Lyssa?" She surveyed him with a leisurely bold approval that brought a flush to his cheeks and made his cock jump, such that he turned away and picked up the towel. Jacob felt a ripple of amusement go through her at his muttered curse. "While I do like the connotations of the word prisoner when it refers to a handsome and powerful male, you are in fact my invited guest, Gideon. "