Their Mate's Redemption [Midnight, New Orleans Style 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “Gaston. It’s more than that, isn’t it? Something else is bothering you. I can feel it,” Shayla said in a soft voice.

  How could she read him so well? Beau wondered.

  Even I sometimes don’t pick up all of his worries, and I’m his brother and his second.

  Beau watched the slight play of emotions across his brother’s face before the mask once more slipped into place.

  “The pride knows we have found our mate and that she is human. The females are angry, and some of the males do not approve. It will not matter, though. She is ours, and I will fight any and all who try to take her from us.”

  Chapter Six

  Shayla knew her mouth dropped open at that bit of news, but she couldn’t stop it. What was going on? Why would these people—um, shifters—not like her when they had never even met her? And why would Gaston, who didn’t really know her either, pledge to fight for her? He might die in a fight that would be because of her. Why?

  I’m nobody. I’m just an insurance coder from the backwoods of Tennessee. Why would this amazing man who looks like a god care about me or want me that much?

  “I will talk to them and remind them who they are mumbling against. You are the LeRoy and your word is law. They will have to fight me to get to you,” Beau snarled.

  “Wait. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me. Why would you fight anyone over me, guys? I’m not a shifter and I’m no one special. I’m a freaking insurance coder.”

  Gaston growled, jumping to his feet so fast his chair slid back and hit the wall with a loud thunk. He broke into that form of French Cajun she didn’t have a prayer understanding with a thunderous expression on his face. Shayla wasn’t really afraid of him, but it startled her and she gasped out loud.

  “Don ever let me hear you talk like that again, cher, or mate or not, I will turn you over my knee. You are our mate, the La Reine. It does not matter who else you are, because you will be their queen. They will give you the respect you are owed or there will be problems. Ça fini pas!” It never ends.

  “Spank me! Are you for real? I haven’t been spanked since I was a child,” she bit out, dropping her fork to the table. “Don’t threaten me, Gaston. You will not like the consequences.”

  Dead silence filled the room as the two guards froze. They even stopped chewing. One had his coffee cup midway to his mouth, and horror colored his features as if the idea that someone might contradict or talk back to Gaston was unheard of. Then it hit her. He was essentially royalty and like the president of his country that happened to be made up of panther shifters—big, scary panther shifters—and she’d just threatened their king.

  To her amazement and evidently that of the guards and Beau, Gaston burst into a deep rumble of laughter that sent chill bumps down her spine as the sound actually aroused her. What was up with that?

  Beau’s shocked expression was almost comical. “Gaston?”

  “I don’t believe my power works on her at all, frère. What a refreshing concept.” Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “However, don push your luck, cher.”

  She just nodded and picked up her fork to continue eating. What had she been thinking? He was a freaking panther and could probably eat her in one, maybe two, gulps! She looked over at Beau without turning her head and caught him grinning at her. When he winked, she almost giggled like a little girl.

  As soon as she’d finished eating, Shayla stood up and started to carry her dirty dishes to the sink. Beau reached out and stopped her.

  “Non, beb. You do not need to do that. We will take care of it,” he said.

  “I don’t mind. I can certainly clean up my own mess.” She walked around his outstretched arm and over to the sink to rinse them off before adding them to the dishwasher once she was sure the dishes inside weren’t clean.

  When she looked up, Gaston stood behind her with his dishes. She started to step aside so he could get to the sink, but he stopped her by wrapping his arms around her and pressing his amazing body against hers as he rinsed his plate out. He’d caged her that easily, and silly Shayla didn’t protest or even resist as his lips brushed her cheek.

  Beau handed his brother the rest of the plates, then took them back once they’d been rinsed and placed them in the dishwasher. Gaston dried his hands with a towel Beau handed him then brushed aside her hair from one shoulder to lick from the base of her neck to just below her ear. Whether it was the feel of his tongue on her sensitive skin or the press of his growing erection, or both, Shayla stood totally enraptured in the circle of his arms as he did wonderful, wicked things with just his mouth, tongue, and the rasp of whiskers that tickled her skin.

  “Pouyaille! Cher, you go to my head,” he said as he rubbed his nose behind her ear and down her neck.

  “Frère, watch her wounds,” Beau whispered from next to her.

  Gaston immediately moved back an inch. “’Tit monde, did I hurt you? Say so if I do.”

  She had to clear her throat in order to answer him. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

  “I do believe she is high, Gaston,” Beau said with a soft chuckle.

  Gaston slowly turned her around in his arms and backed away from the sink, his gaze capturing hers in a heated look so intense her pussy grew slick with her arousal. Then he gave a quick glance over her shoulder before returning to slowly bend toward her and brush her lips with his, moving them back and forth in featherlight kisses that stirred her senses and took away her sanity. Then another warm body pressed lightly against her back and strong hands gripped her hips. He rubbed his equally hard dick up and down her spine, without pushing on her still-tender side. The sensation of two thick, diamond-hard cocks pushing on either side of her body gave her a jolt of electricity that traveled up and down her spine, eliciting chill bumps along her arms as her nipples hardened to tight little pebbles of need.

  Shayla had to resist the urge to rub them against Gaston’s hard chest. It would feel so good. She knew it would, or even better, against his bare skin. Her clit throbbed as she felt every twitch of their shafts. Her pussy wept with want, aching for something to fill it. She knew just the person or persons. Could she actually go through with sleeping with them?

  No. Not sleeping—having sex with them. I want roll-around, down-and-dirty sex. Sleeping has nothing to do with it.

  But what would that mean to the men? Would they automatically assume she was agreeing to their crazy idea of being their mate and the queen to Gaston’s king? She couldn’t let them continue with that line of thought. She had a life back in Tennessee, boring though it was, but she’d been safe there in her little cabin. Safety was very important to her after what had happened to her in the past.

  “Cher,” Gaston whispered against her lips. “You undo me.”

  “Her side, frère,” Beau cautioned, holding her hair to one side before nipping lightly at her neck.

  “Oui. We will be careful, but I cannot wait any longer to taste her, Beau. She is already in my blood and I’m lost.”

  Before she realized what was going on, Gaston had picked her and strode from the kitchen. She looked over his shoulder to find the guards smirking and Beau right behind them with heavy-lidded eyes and a hungry look that tightened things low in her belly. The protest that they shouldn’t disappeared from her tongue at the feel of strong arms holding her as if she were a feather pillow and the sight of a hungry predator stalking her with nasty intentions.

  Oh, God. I’m losing my mind. This is wrong for so many reasons, but it feels so right.

  When they entered the bedroom, Gaston set her down on the bed and knelt in front of her. The fierce fire in his eyes told her he would have her and she would beg for it. Beau knelt beside him, and both men began taking off the shoes and socks she’d just put on maybe an hour before. Beau massaged her foot and kissed each toe before moving to the other foot to repeat the tender kisses while Gaston worked on the fastenings of her jeans. When he had them unzipped and open, he gently pressed back on her so that she lay
back on the bed, and Beau stood up to pull them down her legs, paying special attention to her left side so that he didn’t bump it.

  “Ah, cher.” Gaston stood back and looked at her as Beau slowly removed her panties.

  The expression on the two men’s faces was the final straw, chasing away any lingering doubts she had as to the wisdom of having sex with Gaston, much less both of the Robichaux men. All thoughts of resistance went the way of all good intentions when temptation steps into view. Gaston and Beau would tempt a ninety-year-old nun.

  As Beau knelt on the bed next to her and removed her shirt, she studied his brother with hungry eyes. He wasn’t quite as muscular as Beau, but taller by about two inches. His long black hair spread around him as it now was gave him an even more feral appearance. She couldn’t help but admire how his broad shoulders tapered to a wide chest down to a narrow waist. She wanted him naked. Shayla wanted to lick every inch of both men, but most of all, she had the strange desire to bite them.

  Suddenly she realized she was completely naked while both men had remained clothed. Beau still knelt on the bed next to her, his eyes roaming over her body while callused fingers brushed lightly over her arms.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “What, cher? What do you desire?” Gaston asked without moving a step closer to the bed.

  Licking her dry lips, Shayla struggled to put what she wanted into words. When she’d asked them to put on clothes less than two hours ago, she would have laughed if someone had told her she would be begging them to remove them later.

  “Take your clothes off for me. I want to see you,” she finally managed to get out.

  Gaston chuckled, and the deep, rich timbre of his laugh sent another surge of arousal between her legs so that she was slick there. Beau’s nostrils flared and a soft growl rolled from his chest. Less than a second later, Gaston joined him and tore off his shirt as he closed the short distance to the side of the bed.

  Beau removed his shirt, as well, but at a much slower pace, keeping eye contact the entire time, his desire for her more than apparent in the dark glow of his eyes. Gaston sank to his knees next to the bed and reached up, shoving his hands beneath her buttocks. His big, callused hands squeezed her ass cheeks before slowly pulling her closer to him and the edge of the bed. He bent over her and pressed light kisses across her pelvis from one hip to the other, pausing over the odd birthmark she had to lick it as if it tasted especially sweet.

  He sat back and reached for her hands, drawing her to a sitting position, and placed one of her hands over his heart with a serious expression on his face.

  “This proves that you belong here with us, that you are our Reine, Shayla. Look.” He pulled her hand to one side so that she could see what she hadn’t paid much attention to earlier.

  Covering the spot where his heart beat was a paw-print birthmark exactly like hers though slightly larger. She looked down at her own mark then back at his once again. How was it possible? It had to be a coincidence. There was no such thing as a soul mate or destined mate. She shook her head in denial. That only happened in romance novels and late-night fantasies. It couldn’t really mean anything, could it?

  “Beau. Show her,” Gaston said in a raspy voice.

  Beau turned his back to her and lifted his shorter curly black hair off his neck, and there just below his scalp was a perfect copy of both hers and his brother’s paw print. How? Why? Her mind whirled with disbelief and questions. Common sense warred with possibilities and a longing so strong a soft whine bubbled up from her throat.

  “Shh, cher. It was meant to be. Don’t be afraid,” Gaston said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

  “What does it mean?” she asked.

  “You are royalty, boo, destined to lead,” Beau answered softly.

  Both men moved slowly to sit on the bed next to her, as if afraid of spooking her by moving too fast. Gaston pulled her gently into his arms before kissing the top of her head and letting her go.

  “It is said that when three join, the order of things will change. You are the third, setting the prophecy into motion,” Gaston said.

  “What order of things? How will they change?”

  Gaston shrugged. “We don know, chere. Perhaps it will be the catalyst to end the turf war between the preternatural worlds. It could be that it will only affect shifters or even just our panther pride. It is still a mystery.”

  “I’d think you’d want to know more before you took the chance of setting something into motion that can’t be stopped or undone. Who’s to say the change is for the better?” she asked, looking from one brother to the other.

  “There are never guarantees in life, beb,” Beau pointed out. “But not fulfilling the prophecy is no longer an option.”

  “Why not?” Worry began to eat at her.

  “Because you are ours and we won’t let you go,” Gaston said.

  * * * *

  Shayla’s eyes widened at his statement, but Gaston meant every word. She belonged to them just as much as they belonged to her. Every cell in his body cried out for her. His cat roared with demand that he take her, mark her, and fill her with his seed. The male side of him knew it wasn’t that simple or easy.

  Her heart-shaped face, now pale from shock, called to him just as the scent of her arousal had nearly driven his cat insane with the need to mount their mate. He wanted to taste that sweet honey he knew was seeping from her hot, wet pussy. The urge to bite her and mark her for all the world to see and know that she belonged to him—and his brother—rode him hard. Though the panther wanted her submission, he wasn’t as worried about that as much as earning her trust and eventually her love.

  Before she could regain her composure and argue with him about that, Gaston moved to reposition her on her back and once again settled between her thighs. Everything inside of him wanted to dive right in and sample some of the delicious juices he knew were right there in her folds. He knew he needed to build her up to that point so that she didn’t fight it. He and his brother needed to overwhelm her with pleasure so intense she couldn’t fight it anymore. Had she truly not wanted anything to do with them, Gaston would have backed away and tried something different, but the sweet fragrance of her arousal belied any protest she might offer.

  Once again he started at her lower belly and kissed and licked his way to the softy curly hair that guarded her treasure. He couldn’t wait to bury his face between her legs. Even more, he wanted to sheath his cock deep in her hot, tight cunt.

  I can’t scare her away. She is human and doesn’t understand our ways. Patience, cat. She will be ours, but we can’t take away her choice.

  The panther roared his disagreement. Panther females wouldn’t mate with a male who couldn’t control them, giving them the security they needed to believe their mate was strong enough to protect them and their cubs. Shayla wouldn’t understand that type of mating. Why had the fates decided on a human?

  He shook off his questions and renewed his determination to win her trust and her love. At that moment, all that mattered was giving her pleasure so intense she wouldn’t say no to becoming their mate. With that final thought, Gaston spread her thighs apart with his wide shoulders before spreading her pussy lips so he could see the pink flower covered in her dew just waiting for his tongue.

  “Cho! Co! Amazing! Chere. So pretty and wet you are.” He ran his tongue up her slit to circle around the little nub of her clit.

  “Oh, God! What are you doing to me?” Her hoarse voice made him smile as he lapped at her much as a Meenoo, a kitten would lap at a saucer of milk.

  She wiggled under his mouth to the point he had to look up to see what Beau was doing to her. He couldn’t help but smile as his brother sucked and squeezed her breasts, his face awash in bliss. To say that Beau was a breast man was an understatement. Gaston laid one arm over her pelvis to hold her still, making sure to keep his hand off of her wound. Causing her pain was not acceptable.

  Every swipe of his tongue ove
r her wet pussy netted him more of her sweet nectar. He couldn’t get enough of it but knew his brother should have a taste, as well.

  “Chere, pass me your hand. Let Beau taste how good you are.”

  She hesitated then placed her hand in his. He dipped her fingers in her creamy juices before handing it over to his brother. Beau’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he sucked her fingers into his mouth. When his eyes closed and a low growling purr resonated from his chest, Shayla’s eyes widened again.

  “See, beb? He is enraptured by your honeyed taste. It is the sweetest confection,” he told her.

  Beau sucked and licked every drop from her fingers before growling louder and covering her mouth with his. Gaston relaxed when her arms wrapped around his brother, smoothing up and down his back. He felt his panther pacing restlessly. He nipped at her clit, feeling her bow beneath them as he soothed the slight sting with a swipe of his tongue. There was nothing as sexy as a female in the throes of passion. He wanted to see that with his mate.

  Every fiber of his body ached to possess her, but she would succumb first to the pleasure she deserved. He licked once more up her slit before carefully entering her hot, tight cunt with one finger. She instantly tightened around him. His cock twitched at the sensation of her tender tissues squeezing his finger. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her milking his finger as he slowly fucked her with it while sucking lightly on her clit.

  The raw moans that escaped her mouth around the kiss his brother gave her were like fire in his veins. He wanted more. With that, he added a second finger and slowly pumped them in and out of her pussy, reveling in every twitch of her body, each pump of her hips, and the growing sounds that erupted from her lips.

  This was a little taste of the heaven that awaited him, and he was impatient to arrive. Relentlessly, Gaston renewed his pledge to bring her orgasm so he could claim her heated cunt. Nothing would stop him now. She was theirs.