Chapter Thirteen
Two months later …
"There's no coffee." Grant wandered into the bedroom and gazed at Sherrie and John lying on the bed, entwined together naked. "No coffee," he repeated. "In the coffeemaker."
"Jar's in the cupboard. Make more," John snapped.
"Or you could come and join us and make the coffee after," Sherrie offered.
Grant paused, head cocked as if he was weighing his options-coffee or sex-before giving a feral grin and leaping onto the bed beside them. His purring rumble vibrated against her as he wrapped himself around Sherrie's backside. One of his hands stole across her hip, and he reached for John's cock.
Sherrie could almost feel him grinning against the back of her neck. He knew it irked John to admit to their attraction. The two shifters were mostly all about pleasuring her, but there was an undeniable element of attraction between them too. Grant chose to play with it, while John tried to ignore it. Sherrie simply enjoyed it. The sight of one of her handsome lovers caressing the other was extremely erotic. And on the rare occasions they kissed, her heart melted at the beautiful sight.
She watched now as Grant stroked John's thick cock, eliciting a grunt from him. The panther wrapped his long-fingered hand around the other man's shaft, pulling slowly upward from base to tip. He drew back John's foreskin and caressed a thumb over the weeping slit in the rounded head. Meanwhile, he rubbed his own erection between Sherrie's buttocks. The glide of his cock over her anus set the opening twitching. She wanted him inside, filling her tight channel while John fucked her pussy. The pair of them doing her at the same time was a rare experience to be savored. She craved it now with the raging thirst of one who'd been wandering in a desert.
John's eyes closed and his lips parted as he surrendered to the pleasure of Grant's massaging hand. He submitted for several moments before opening his eyes and focusing on Sherrie. Lowering his head to her breast, he worried her nipple with his teeth, nipping it in his wolfish way. John's mauling was just right, neither too rough nor too gentle. He knew how to make her gasp and yelp then sigh in exquisite pleasure.
Sherrie arched her chest toward his mouth, pushed her bottom against Grant's cock and felt every inch of the hot walls of flesh surrounding her. The hard muscle and smooth skin of John's back rippled beneath her hands. She grasped his taut buttocks and pulled him toward her, silently asking him for what she craved.
Grant's warmth disappeared from her back as he rolled toward the nightstand to get the lube. A moment later, she felt his heat again then his fingers, cool and gelled, slipping between her ass cheeks and tickling the rim of her hole.
Sheltered between the men's big bodies, Sherrie's desire mounted. She felt their combined heat would melt her until she was no more than a drizzle of sticky honey gluing them together. The crackling supernatural power that had once fused them may have burned out, but every time they had a threesome, it was still a thrilling ride.
John guided his cock to Sherrie's entrance, impaling her in one strong thrust. He glided easily on a slick of her juices to fill her deeply. She groaned and tilted her face to receive his kiss. His tongue swept around hers, possessing her mouth as his cock did her pussy.
Behind her, Grant slipped one long finger into her hole, stretching the opening with gentle but insistent invasion. He added a second finger, and a ripple of excitement went through her as her muscles clenched around him. So tight, so intense, as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, going deeper each time.
Now. Now. Both of you now. Her mindless, frenzied plea for more may have reached Grant. They still had an unspoken mental communication that seemed to bring him down from the mountain for a visit whenever she desired him. As if he heard her now, he replaced his probing fingers with the head of his cock.
While John thrust slowly into her pussy, Grant eased his length into her backside in careful increments. Her sphincter widened to accommodate his girth, burning a little at the extreme stretch. Sherrie moaned quietly then held her breath as he filled her deeper.
John paused in his thrusting, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. A sheen of sweat glistened on his face, and his eyes were dark slits focused on her and on Grant behind her. She guessed he could feel the other man's cock inside her through the thin wall of flesh that separated them.
John both disliked and was extremely aroused by sharing her with the panther, who still made his hackles rise. He'd explained that wolves were territorial creatures who tended to be monogamous in their mating. And although he was willing to allow Grant into their bed on occasion, it went against his natural inclination, even while it excited him. Sherrie believed the push-pull of his emotions only enhanced the thrill for John.
Right now he certainly looked excited as he watched Grant's face and waited for the other man to reach his full depth inside her. Sherrie exhaled, relaxing her muscles to accept Grant's thickness all the way up her narrow channel. When it seemed he could go no farther, he pushed a little deeper yet, and she cried out. The panther pressed his lips to the side of her neck and murmured something, a wordless, soothing purr of a sound.
For several moments, suspended like a fat water droplet waiting to fall from a faucet, all three of them held utterly still. Sherrie closed her eyes again, reaching out with her other senses to examine every aspect of this union : the incredible heat of the flesh surrounding her, damp skin pressed to hers, hands touching her, cocks filling her completely. Her own body was like the throbbing heartbeat in the center and the three of them were one being.
Then Grant pulled his length from inside her. Sherrie's body let go reluctantly and he groaned at the friction as he pulled out. When he pushed back in, it was John's turn to recede, relinquishing territory slowly. The sea-saw motion continued with one man then the other filling her. There was no need for Sherrie to move at all, not to thrust or reach for either of them. They passed her pliant body back and forth between them in a gentle rhythm at first which gradually grew faster.
A low, rumbling growl sounded from deep in John's chest. His brown eyes gleamed golden, and the hair on Sherrie's nape rose at the wolfish display. He gritted his teeth and they seemed sharper and longer than normal. He pumped into her harder now and more erratically, not timing his thrusts with Grant's.
When they both filled her at once, Sherrie cried out at the intense sensation.
Grant hissed near her ear, either a warning to John or from sheer pleasure, and his teeth scored the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She gasped and jerked more from surprise than from pain. Her senses were already overloaded, her body teetering on the brink of orgasm, and Grant's bite was enough to put her over the edge.
She yelled as her body contracted and stars and fireworks burst in her head. Her climax was so profound, tears stung her eyes.
A yowl of pleasure came from Grant, and he bucked against her once more before holding still and pulsing inside her. John groaned quietly and pumped fast several times before he came too. He held her tight, fingers digging into her hip and his narrowed eyes focused on hers. That was John. He always made that connection with her unless he was fucking her from behind.
Gasping through the tail end of her climax, Sherrie blinked and looked back at him, treasuring their bond which had grown to be much more than a sexual one. She enjoyed playing with Grant, but she was falling in love with John.
They remained frozen in their multiple clench for another moment before Grant disengaged and rolled away from Sherrie, heaving a long breath. "Good," he groaned.
Sherrie heartily agreed. She remained in John's embrace with his softening cock inside her for a little longer. Burying her face into the crook of his shoulder, she licked salt from his skin. "Okay?" she whispered, knowing his ambivalent feelings about sharing her with Grant.
He nodded and nuzzled the side of her head. "It's fine. I know you're mine," he murmured back.
She knew it too. Raising her face from his shoulder, she looked into his eyes and saw the unabashed devotion in them. The strength of his commitment rocked her. All the aborted relationships in her life seemed paltry now, and she wondered why she'd wasted tears on any of those men. John was the real deal, a faithful, dedicated man-all right, were-creature-who would stand by her forever.
The longer she knew him, the more she found they had in common. They both liked outdoor activities like hiking, biking and climbing, although John wasn't overly fond of swimming or boating. "Wolves and water don't mix," he'd once told her. He wasn't a huge fan of the arts, but was happy to go to movies, concerts or plays with her, even though it entailed driving miles to the nearest large city.