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Miss Muffet’s Bears: Freshly Baked Furry Tails, Book 2 Page 8
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Katrina grabbed the sheets and twisted herself as Alex made his way down to her thighs, then, to the space between her legs. He pressed his mouth to her sex and kissed it hello before taking it dancing.
Some stories take a while to get started. Some stories get right to the point and start in the middle, with no introduction — in media res. If Alex’s oral techniques were a book, they’d be a novella that begins in media res — a short story that gets right to the point, that doesn’t need to be long because all it needs is a hundred turns of the tongue to get a gal to a happy ending.
Katrina took in a deep inhale as Alex’s tongue ran along her petals. There were two reasons that she was sure that his tongue had the powers of time travel and that they’d skipped ten minutes into the future.
For one — she was already soaking wet, and she swore she hadn’t been that wet a few seconds ago.
For two — he was going at it like a man who had been going at it for ten minutes already, who had done the warm-up parts and had finally gotten around to doing the good stuff.
“Fuck,” cursed Katrina.
“Careful — I might have to wash that dirty mouth of yours out with cum,” threatened Quentin.
“You try and do that, and I’ll brush my teeth with your cock,” said Katrina.
“Sassy kitty’s got claws,” said Quentin. “Lucky for you, I don’t mind a little teeth.”
Katrina gnashed her teeth at Quentin. “I’m not one of those sexy cats, I’m a big — oh!”
Katrina’s eyes fluttered open and closed and open and closed, as her mouth made the same motions — opening, closing, opening, closing. Her eyes and her mouth both made soft sounds — her eyelashes fluttering, her mouth making small gasps of quavers that quivered in the air as Alex’s mouth made the noises of the ocean, the sound of waves crashing into the beach, pounding soft sand into even softer silt. Then, Katrina started to make the cries of the sea — of dolphins squeaking.
“I need — I need a break, for maybe two minutes,” said Katrina.
Alex stopped immediately. “You okay?”
“Yes — a little too okay,” said Katrina, flustered. “I’m worried that if you continue, I might, you know…”
“What?” asked Quentin.
“You know — come,” said Katrina, blushing.
“And that’s a bad thing, how?” asked Alex
“We all have to come at the same time for Fate to send her signal, right?” asked Katrina.
“And…you’re in a rush for that to happen,” remembered Alex. “So, what you’re saying is…you want Quentin and I to come with you?”
“You want to come with company?” asked Quentin. “Orgasms — fun for the whole ménage.”
“Yeah, something like that,” said Katrina. “Also…I never realized that getting oral could be a frikkin’ sport, but, wow. Alex. It was like I was riding your face without even trying to.”
“Call it shifter magic,” said Alex. “One of my splinter skills — along with clearing out a lumber crew’s lodgings.”
“You know…it’s kinda embarrassing that you guys banged on that pan,” said Katrina.
“What’s more embarrassing for you — hearing Alex bang that pan, or having a crew of horny lumberjacks, who haven’t gone down the mountain or seen a woman with your curves in far too long, hearing you moan our names?” asked Quentin.
“You think they would’ve listened?” asked Katrina.
“Not like they have a choice — walls of this building are paper thin, and shifters, well, they have a way of hearings things they shouldn’t,” said Alex. “Explains why all the grandmas know all the hottest gossip.”
“Well, let’m listen,” said Katrina.
“The grandmas?” asked Alex.
“No — the lumberjacks,” said Katrina. “Nobody’s going to like me, now that you banged that frikkin’ pan all through the lodge! But…I think if they heard me moan, that might actually get me some friends.”
“You saying we’re not enough for you?” asked Alex, crooking his finger and running it over Katrina’s chin.
“Who said I wasn’t collecting a reverse harem?” asked Katrina, raising a brow.
“What was that about reverse cowgirl?” asked Quentin.
“I didn’t say reverse cowgirl!”
“You sure? I could’ve sworn you did,” said Alex.
“Yeah — it’s two against one,” said Quentin.
“Have the two of you ever beaten me at anything before?” asked Katrina. “Because…trust me. I don’t think you really want me on top.”
“Why not?” asked Alex.
“Because this is a lot to have pressing down on you,” said Katrina. “This isn’t the Salem witch trials — you know, where they put slabs of stones on people.”
“First of all, babe, you’re not some slab of stone,” said Alex. “You’re a big, beautiful woman, with a lot to love…”
“…And we love all of it,” said Quentin. “That’s why we want to see it in all kinds of ways.”
“Trust us — the view from below is very, very hot,” said Alex.
“But what about the pressure?” asked Katrina.
“You think I can chop down a forest without breaking a sweat — well, more of a sweat — and I can’t handle a beautiful woman bouncing up and down on my cock?” asked Alex.
“Well…I’m a lot to handle,” said Katrina.
“So, try me,” said Alex, lying back on the bed, and motioning to his cock. “Well? It won’t ride itself.”
“I’ve never done that position before,” said Katrina.
“It’s just like normal cowgirl — but in reverse,” said Quentin. “You just face the other way.”
“I mean I’ve never been on top,” admitted Katrina, blushing.
“There’s a first time for everything,” said Alex, motioning to his cock again. “Just be gentle — on yourself. When you’re on top, you’re in control.”
“I’m already in control of you two — but I get what you mean,” said Katrina.
“Here — I’ll help you,” said Quentin. Quentin helped Katrina get off the bed and walked her over to Alex. He helped her keep her balance as she straddled Alex with her thick legs and then, grabbed Alex’s cock and helped guide it into Katrina.
“There,” said Quentin. “It’s in. Just try it on, like a shoe.”
“Like a shoe?” asked Alex. “Really, Quentin? You reveal your foot fetish right now?”
“You know what I mean,” groaned Quentin. He sat down on the side of the bed and slid one of Alex’s legs to the side, so he had room to touch and kiss Katrina. As Katrina moved up and down, Quentin watched as her bosom heaved, and his cock stiffened.
“Am I doing it right?” asked Katrina.
“Sex is like marionberries — never bad, and I prefer it in the woods,” growled Alex.
“Go in circles,” said Quentin. “You’ll like that better.”
“In circles?” asked Katrina, swiveling her hips as if she were swinging a hoop around her waist.
“No — like this,” said Quentin, getting off the bed to hold Katrina by her sides. “May I have this dance?”
“Only if you promise to keep your hands where they are — in that absolutely inappropriate position,” quipped Katrina.
“Let my hands lead,” ordered Quentin. Katrina felt Quentin’s rough hands against her thickness. Both Alex and Quentin had rough hands by dint of being both werebears and lumberjacks. Alex’s were slightly rougher than Quentin’s. The brush of Quentin’s shifter paw print marks against her skin set her hair on edge and she gulped and let out a small gasp.
“You okay?” asked Quentin.
“Y-yeah, just…I like it when you touch me like that,” said Katrina. “Keep going.”
Quentin chuckled to himself. “When I say go in a circle, I mean…like this.” Quentin kept Katrina’s torso straight but pulled it back and then pushed it down, pushed it forward, pulled it up, and pulled it back again. He
repeated the motions over and over until Katrina was starting to do it on her own.
“See? It ain’t no thing,” said Quentin.
“Is it normal for my legs to get tired?” asked Katrina.
“Yeah — and that means we should switch positions,” said Alex, sliding out from underneath Katrina and laying her down on the bed before turning her so her legs were open and facing to the side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” asked Katrina.
“Do you want me to tell you or show you?” asked Alex.
“Show me,” said Katrina, biting her lower lip.
Alex positioned himself at Katrina’s entrance and entered her. He took a few thrusts and then, switched off with Quentin.
“Oh-ho-ho,” chuckled Katrina. “Mama likey. I very, very much likey.”
“You want it harder?” asked Alex.
“Is that even a question?” asked Katrina.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Alex, drilling deep into Katrina and make her moan beneath him, using all his energy in a sprint. Just as he was starting to lose steam, he switched place with Quentin.
Katrina felt Alex’s pace slow, but then she felt it quicken again. She looked up. It was Quentin in between her legs, continuing Alex’s work! Quentin split Katrina’s legs apart as roughly as he’d split a log into firewood — if he were drunk on marionberry mead. He was precise in many aspects of his life, but when it came to sex, well…it was obvious to Katrina that there was a side of Quentin he tried to hide with the quips, with the humor, the arrogance, the snobbery, and the cultivated sexiness.
There was a side of Quentin that was darker, primal, and all shifter. She swore she saw his eyes glow green with magic as he rolled into her like a bulldozer rolling over a hill destined to become an empty lot, ruining her, destroying her, turning her into something he could truly claim.
“Oh, Quentin!” moaned Katrina, rolling in the sheets, which pooled around her like waves around a beached mermaid — and Katrina, well, she had one whale of a tale. “Fuck, Quentin!” She felt Quentin’s pace quicken.
“This ain’t Quentin,” said a familiar voice, with a chuckle. Katrina opened her eyes and looked up. Alex had taken Quentin’s place.
“But he…and now you…and…” started Katrina.
“Do you really wanna be thinking right now?” asked Alex.
“Nuh-uh,” said Katrina.
“Good — me neither,” said Alex, pushing onto Katrina and pulling her up at the same time so he could kiss her lips deeply as he thrust into her harder than his ax thrusting into a tree’s trunk. Every slap of his ax into her core was like the first crack of his ax’s head into a tree’s trunk. It was tight and satisfying every single time, and every single time he entered her felt like the first.
Katrina felt Alex’s rough hands on her body. It was so easy to forget that Alex had another side to him — the bear that he kept at bay. Even though his mate mark was practically staring her in the dang face, and his rough bear’s paw prints were rubbing against her soft skin, it was still easy to forget he could turn into a giant animal with paws and claws and fangs. How could someone who was all man also be all bear? Alex truly contained multitudes.
The two men slid back and forth, swapping in and out of Katrina. Katrina was moved around the bed, legs opened, legs closed, body propped up with pillows. She had her nipples pinched, thick thighs rubbed, ample ass groped, generous waist caressed, and curves thoroughly loved. Every last inch of every last thick roll was savored by the werebears — each roll sweeter than a Swiss roll with extra whipped cream.
It was too much for Katrina. She’d never been had by two men before and had never been had in that way. Her wildest fantasies had come true that afternoon — but would the wildest fantasy, the fantasy of being Alex and Quentin’s fated mate, come true?
Katrina let herself come. A single tear fell from her cheeks as it was about to start, and once it began, more tears were shed. Katrina was soaking the sheets from both ends. Quentin, who happened to be inside Katrina as she came, couldn’t help but slide back out and force himself to slip back in one last time before he too came. Quentin slid aside, making room for Alex, who had a few thrusts left, and he kept fucking Katrina until the pressure from her pulsations proved to be too much for his already precariously positioned passions, and it pushed him over the precipice of pleasure.
All of a sudden, at the same time, something remarkable happened. Alex’s eyes flashed the pale teal blue of the Pacific Ocean as his bear roared with approval. The grunts and growls were happy, for the first time in a while.
Quentin’s eyes glowed as green as a meadow hit by dawn’s first light. There was a rumbling in his core, and it wasn’t from the salmon. It was from his bear, congratulating him, letting him know that yes — Quentin had finally done it. He’d claimed his fated mate.
A golden web extended out from the legs of the spider, spiraling out, into the shape of a heart. The same changed happened on Alex’s chest. The lines flowed like rivers of liquid gold, like trails of ink written by Fate’s own quill.
“Your marks,” said Katrina, putting her hands on their chests, watching them glow golden beneath her fingers. “They’re…”
“They’re proof we’re meant to be with you,” said Alex. “You’re ours, Katrina…”
“…But we didn’t need to claim you to know that,” said Quentin.
“You know, you two’ve claimed me…but I don’t think you’ve formally asked me out yet,” said Katrina slyly.
“I hate to admit it, but…I think you might be right,” said Alex sheepishly. “Katrina, will you go out with me?”
“No,” said Katrina.
“Uh…will you go out with me?” asked Quentin.
“Nope!” said Katrina with a goofy grin.
“Okay, how about going out with the both of us?” asked Alex, catching on.
“Now that’s something I can get behind,” said Katrina. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend if you two will be my boyfriends…and agree to keep all the fighting in the past.”
“Well, I think we can do that — for you,” said Quentin.
“Agreed,” agreed Alex.
“So — you two really are meant to be with me,” said Katrina. “I’m still wrapping my head around all this. You two…me…fated. Who would’ve thought that all three of us were meant to be here, in this bed? Who would’ve thought we’d get along?”
“Fate,” said Quentin. “Sometimes, Fate can see what we can’t see ourselves.”
“Or maybe, like Karma, Fate’s a bitch and absolutely loves drama,” said Alex with a shrug.
“There’s only one more thing we have to figure out,” said Alex.
“What’s that?” asked Katrina.
“Which booth we’re going to make for the festival,” said Alex. “Rufus and Terrence said we could make one prototype before we make the version we’re going to use for the River Festival. The only question is, which booth style did you prefer? Shed or gazebo?”
“I really can’t pick,” admitted Katrina. “I wish we could just mush the two ideas together and make one combination shed and gazebo.”
“Well…maybe that’s not such a crazy idea,” said Quentin.
“It’s not?” asked Katrina.
“I’ve cooked up crazier combos in my kitchen — like bacon and cream cheese,” said Quentin.
“Bacon and cream cheese? That…sounds kinda gross,” admitted Katrina.
“It is — until you add the jalapeños, and bam, you’ve got bacon wrapped jalapeño poppers,” said Quentin, snapping his fingers. “You just have to take the risk and see if things worse.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” asked Katrina. “What if my idea sucks?”
“We’ll try it out anyway,” said Alex.
“Yeah,” agreed Quentin. “How bad could it be?”
Chapter Ten
It was bad.
They’d wasted a week on planning and building the hybrid boo
th and gazebo, and it looked terrible. It was rickety and weird. It looked like two photos had been cut in two, poorly, and pasted together. It looked like a farmer’s magazine and a billionaire’s real estate porn magazine had a baby that neither would’ve wanted to acknowledge. The structure was a bastard, a bastardization of good taste and an okay idea.
“We cannot bring this to the festival,” said Katrina, straight out the gate.
“It’s not that bad,” said Alex.
A piece of the gazebo fell down onto the ground.
“We can put that back together with some duct tape,” said Quentin. “Nobody will even notice!”
The two walls of the gazebo fell down. There were only two walls as the other two walls had been replaced with a gazebo lattice and pillar.
“It looked good in the designs,” said Alex.
“Well, designs are like dreams, everybody’s got them,” said Katrina.
“I don’t think that’s how the phrase goes,” said Quentin as tactfully as possible, although the most tactful thing would’ve been for him to have not said anything at all.
“Right now, I do not want to hear about how I’m wrong about yet another thing,” said Katrina. “I know how phrases go, Quentin.”
“I think all he means is — “ started Alex.
“He doesn’t need you to defend him,” said Katrina, turning to face Alex. “I don’t need you to tell me what he means. I have ears. I might be bad at design, but I still know how to build a — “
Quentin turned Katrina around.
“Katrina,” whispered Quentin, running his hands through her hair. “Listen to me. You’re lashing out. I get it.”
“So?” asked Katrina, eyes brimming with tears. “Wouldn’t you lash out too?”
“Yeah — and I do,” said Quentin. “This is gonna sound lame, but, give me a hug.”
“What?” asked Katrina.
“Just hug me,” said Quentin, opening his arms.
Katrina gingerly entered Quentin’s embrace. Quentin looked at Alex and mouthed the words ‘get in here’ and glanced down at Katrina before nodding at Alex. Alex nodded and came up behind Katrina, so she was sandwiched between both Quentin and Alex.