Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(124)

As the full moon’s power started to make itself felt, the scents of arousal filled the air.


She was with her males. Lifemated. Together. Finally. Darcy couldn’t stop smiling. Her feet seemed to be inches above the ground as Gawain and Owen led her into their house, up the stairs, and down a hallway.

Owen’s arm was behind her back.

Gawain was holding her hand, pulling her forward. “Darcy.” He sounded…worried. “Owen has the left room, I have the right one, and if you like it…want it…this is your room.”

She almost laughed. “If you’re here, that’s all I need.”

Owen squeezed her waist. “We left it mostly unfurnished so you could decide how you want it to look.”

The room was even bigger than Vicki’s. Carvings of flowering vines circled the doors and windows. The balcony faced the east, and the first glow of the Mother’s moonrise lit the glass door.

The only furniture was a bed standing between two windows.

She touched Owen’s beautiful carvings on the headboard in wonder. Three cougars snoozed on a rock under a crescent moon.

The footboard showed a female cougar leaping into a tree with her mates watching. She could almost see the laughter on Owen’s whiskered face and the approval on Gawain’s.

Her eyes widened at the size of the bed.

Looking at it, she understood her males’ hopes and dreams. They hadn’t given her a small bed to sleep in alone, but a giant one big enough for a towering cahir, a huge blademage, and one small mate.

They knew her so well. Given her choice, she’d never sleep alone again.

She took a breath as urgency filled her blood.

“What? We can change something, anything.” Gawain squeezed her shoulders.

A line furrowed Owen’s brow. “We’ll burn the place down if you want. The only nonnegotiable point is that we stay together.”

“Burn it down?” She realized she’d been so lost in her dreaming she’d missed seeing their worry. “I love it,” she said firmly. “But…”

Owen growled. “Speak clearly, little female. What’s wrong?”

Ah, her grumpy cat had returned.

And the rough, dark sound of his voice made her insides quiver. “I was just thinking we’re overdressed—and it’s the full moon—and we need to try out that bed.”

With a shout of laughter, Gawain leaned forward and whisked her top right off.

Owen had already knelt to strip off her jeans.

A second later, she landed on the bed—bare-ass naked.

As they joined her, she wrapped her arms around them and breathed in their masculine scents. Her happiness filled her heart, the room, the universe. “I love you…my mates.”


Their first mating was fast and furious.

The second slower.

Now Owen lifted his head so he could watch the candlelight flicker over Darcy’s face, so he could see the way she looked when he ran his tongue over her clit, the way her lips parted as she pulled in a breath. How her back arched up when Gawain sucked on her nipples.

She had the heart-stopping beauty of a crystal-clear snowy morning in the mountains.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

She blinked, obviously trying to remember if they’d been talking. He loved how she gave herself to making love—how she gave of herself, because she trusted them. And loved them.

By the God, she loved them. Would he ever stop feeling this sense of elation?

He licked over her again and felt her hips trying to squirm. She was slick and fragrant with her arousal. Using his thumbs to open her more, he flicked his tongue over her clit.

Over the past weeks, he’d learned what she liked. And Darcy, who gave back as generously as she received, had figured out the same about them. Every time was better.

He wanted to take the next step. During their shared showers, he’d worked on stretching her, preparing her to take them both at once. The way her excitement increased with his fingers in her back hole, she’d enjoy a cock even more.

And if she didn’t, he wouldn’t mind. She was far more important than some variation in the mating act.

He rose up to kiss her before returning to her pussy, scratching her inner thighs with the faint stubble on his chin. He grinned when he saw her toes curl.

As he and Gawain continued, she gave a delightful moan. Under his hands, her hips wiggled. “More, please, Owen, please.” She gripped Gawain’s long hair, pulling him down to her breasts.

With a rumbling chuckle, Gawain licked one breast, turning his head to check if Owen wanted to order something. He didn’t mind taking direction—actually enjoyed it.

Even better, the bossy little cat didn’t want to be in control, not when mating.

Owen considered. In their earliest adventures, he and Gawain had worked out a silent routine. Did his littermate remember?

Balanced on an elbow, Owen closed his fingers around his brother’s ankle and squeezed once.

Gawain’s head came up. He frowned, lowered a hand out of Darcy’s field of vision, and held up one finger. He remembered.

Grinning, Owen nodded. Raised fingers or squeezes indicated the method of choice. Taps would coordinate their efforts. One finger, one nudge, or one squeeze meant: lick until further direction. He saw Gawain’s tongue run in a circle around Darcy’s nipple. Owen lowered his head and ran his own circle around a pink clit that was growing more and more swollen.