Book #1 in the Warlock Mating Chronicles (ISBN: 1622419839). This story contains a paranormal romantic menage pairing where the men are romantic with each other (MMF). It contains moderate kink.
Cyrah has denied her pagan heritage and tried to live a normal life, but visions of two sexy strangers refuse to leave her alone. She senses trouble in their auras, and knows she must try to insert herself into their lives to stop it. Her strong attraction is difficult to control however, and one miscalculation leaves her captured by a powerful Coven and tied to a Master Warlock’s bed.
When Roman recognizes Cyrah as his destined mate, he makes every effort to keep her close. He lusts after the sexy witch, but can’t deny his attraction for his personal guard, Sam. His emotions are torn and Roman is unable to bind himself to either of them. Then he learns that Sam and Cyrah feel the same. Cyrah has an idea of how all three of them can become mates, but doing so would involve extremely kinky sex, denying ancient warlock tradition, and putting all of their lives in grave danger.
“You aren’t really going to prepare me for an assistant’s job, are you?”
“You’re smart. Your sharp mind will be a comfort during these hard times. The Master chose wisely.” Eli glanced at the other man and nodded. They began chanting, their low voices filling the room with sounds she couldn’t decipher but that sounded oddly familiar. Fuck, they were using magic.
She looked for a way to escape, but there was no other door. She ran to the window and tried to open the sash. It was no use. The window had been locked, and even if she could calm herself enough to use her powers, it wasn’t practical to climb out the opening. She was up on the third floor, and the room faced a rocky coastline. To jump from this height would kill her.
She turned away from the window as they approached. Their voices became louder, and their mustard-colored auras changed to orange, the color of control and manipulation. Shit. Now she remembered where she had heard that chant before. Her grandmother had used the same spell when Cyrah was a child to prevent her from touching a hot oven.
These men were trying to freeze her muscles and stop her movements.
“Where did you learn to cast spells?” Cyrah climbed up onto the desk as the men advanced. “Stop chanting, or I’ll jump through the window.”
They grabbed her arms and yanked her onto the floor with ease. An eerie calm forced its way into her mind as their orange auras surrounded her.
No! If she couldn’t move, she couldn’t protect Roman and his lover, and her vision could come to pass. She had to get out of here, fast.
Cyrah fought the spell with everything she had. She mumbled a few words and threw up a wall around her spirit.
She managed to catch the two men by surprise. They stopped chanting and glanced at each other in confusion. She used the pause to her advantage and kicked one of her captors in the shin. He loosened his grip enough for her to slip away and race for the exit. One of the men swore and wrapped his arm around her waist before she could reach the door.
They could cast spells? It didn’t make any sense—unless they were warlocks. What were warlocks doing on Roman’s staff? Did they have something to do with her visions? She needed time to sort this out. Did Roman know that these men were doing this to her? Perhaps these were the goons that wanted to hurt Roman. Cyrah tried to think of a spell to cast, but her mind raced in twenty different directions at once. It was too hard to concentrate.
The men started chanting again, and Cyrah watched their orange auras strengthen. She knew it was only a matter of time before the men broke through her feeble wall and subdued her. They were too strong, and since she had not been practicing her magic regularly, her spells were weak and pathetic. The first time she had chanted she had caught them by surprise. It wouldn’t happen again.
If she could just hurt one of them before they killed her, then she’d feel oh so much better.
She pounded her fist against the white-haired man’s chest, but it was like punching a wall. “You’ll never get away with this. I know people. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
They chanted louder. A sense of calm came over her, suppressing her panic. She fought it, but it was no use. It was too powerful. By the time the second man touched her again, her muscles had turned to water. Her weak body collapsed, and she felt herself being lifted by strong hands. She curled up against him as weariness settled in her bones. The men picked her up and laid her on the soft bed. Then they handcuffed both her arms and feet to the bedposts.
“I had no idea Master would pick one of them. It’s brilliant,” the man whose name she had forgotten said.
“That’s why he is the Master, and we are his subordinates,” Eli answered.
They continued to speak in hushed tones as they finished tying her arms and legs to the bed and left the room. Cyrah tried to concentrate on their words, but it felt as if her mind was stuffed with cotton.
As soon as the door shut, her inner peace subsided and her panic rose once more. Cyrah fought her bindings for hours, but it was no use. She was stuck. Cyrah had no idea why they had tied her to the bed, but she guessed it wasn’t so she could check for dust on the ceiling. She frowned as she replayed the day in her head, wondering exactly who Roman was and what she had gotten herself into.
Using one of the plants for cover, Cyrah peeked into the side window of Roman’s office. She saw Roman clearly now, and felt the same magnetic pull she had felt earlier when she was trying to pinpoint his location. His aura surrounded him, the soft crimson telling her that his thoughts were centered on more earthly, physical things. It flickered with streaks of green. Calming streaks. She tried to catch a glimpse of the person he was talking to, but the figure remained just out of sight. She could see his aura, however. It was dark green with golden flecks. Roman was talking to a healer, or someone with a calming presence.
She continued to watch Roman as he talked. Her gaze slid down from his firm lips to his broad shoulders and then to his tight, round ass. Desire sparked in her lower abdomen, and her heartbeat quickened. She felt hot despite the central air-conditioning vent right above her.
The attraction she had felt when she first saw him in her vision was nothing like what she felt now. In her dreams he was amazing, but in reality he was breathtaking. Roman Maddock was tall and muscular and took care of his appearance. He had an authoritative presence that spoke to a spot deep inside of her. No woman could resist such commanding masculinity. Roman was definitely drool-worthy.
With each passing moment, the dull ache in her core grew. She wanted to burst into his office, strip off her clothes, and wrap herself around him like a blanket. She could never do that, however. Roman was just a man, and knew nothing of visions and the mating heat of witches and warlocks. She didn’t want to scare him.
Cyrah gasped as the other person in the office moved into her line of vision. It was the one from her dreams, Roman’s companion. She’d know that dirty-blond hair and those angular features anywhere. While Roman was long and lean like a soccer player, his companion was broader, more muscular. She suspected that Roman’s friend had spent a lot of time lifting weights or doing heavy labor to get such a chiseled physique.
Cyrah widened her eyes as she watched them interact. There was an easy familiarity about them, as if they were close friends. Roman said something, and the other man laughed. Then Roman ran his hand down his friend’s arm. The other man closed his eyes. Cyrah saw the man’s aura turn from green to bright crimson. Whatever Roman did made the other man’s thoughts turn more worldly and primal. Cyrah held her breath in anticipation.
Roman slid his hand up and cupped the other man’s cheek. Their gazes met, and Cyrah didn’t need to see their auras to know that they desired each other. Not friends, then, but lovers. She thought the information would squelch the burning heat between her thighs, but it only made it hotter.
Roman leaned forward and captured his lover’s lips. The kiss was gentle and affectionate. Cyrah inched closer to the window and pictured herself pressed in between them. What would they smell like? How would all of those hard muscles feel against her skin? She imagined them kissing her with as much passion as they kissed each other.
Roman swept his tongue into his lover’s mouth. The man eased his hands forward and began to undo Roman’s pants. Their auras turned from crimson to fire-engine red. Cyrah shivered as her need escalated.
The kiss changed from affectionate to desperate. They slanted over each other’s mouths again and again as they tore at their constricting clothes. With their pants removed and shirts unbuttoned, they palmed each other’s chest, shoulders, and ass. They ground their hips together as if they wanted to fuse their bodies into one being. Their auras blended and grew until they filled the entire room, as often happened when people felt strong emotions.
Cyrah knew that she should leave. The lovers obviously wanted some privacy. She tried to stand and walk down the hall, but she couldn’t make her feet move. Her message for them was too important. Besides, she had never seen two men kiss before, and it fascinated her. As she watched, pressure built deep inside her core, and her panties became damp. The urge to participate was overwhelming. What was wrong with her? Never before had she felt such strong desire. A primal longing pulsed through her, making her want to weep with frustration.
Cyrah grabbed her breasts in an attempt to relieve some of the ache. She squeezed and pinched her nipples as she watched the men undress each other but could barely feel her ministrations through her cleaning uniform.
What was it about these men that affected her? They were physically appealing, yes, but she had seen attractive men before. None of them caused such an intense reaction. Was it possible to die of unsatisfied lust?
Cyrah glanced behind her and confirmed that the hall was empty. She positioned herself so that most of her body was shielded by the plant and then undid her pants. She rested her head on the window as she pulled her navy trousers and panties down around her ankles. What she was doing was completely insane, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The emotions were just too strong.
She spread her knees apart and bit back a groan as cool air kissed her wet folds. Cyrah plunged her finger into her slick channel. Her muscles stretched, but not enough. She needed more, much more. She turned back to the window.
Roman was the first to break the kiss. Both men were breathing heavily as Roman turned his lover around and bent him over the desk. Cyrah moistened her lips as Roman walked around to the other side and grabbed something out of one of the drawers. What was he doing?