The Witch’s Wolves by Ellie Mae MacGregor

 

The Witch’s Wolves

It had been dark for hours by the time Manon’s teeth began to chatter. Her grandmother’s fur cloak had done her well, but it began to feel like thin cotton against the newly falling snow and the howling wind. She had no idea how long she had been walking at this point. The river led her out of town, but the fear of being followed caused her to veer off into the thick of the wood. She wasn’t sure she would survive the cold, but she knew that death would come quickly for her should she be caught.

She should have been more afraid. On a normal night, the ominous creaking of trees and rustling of leaves in the dark would be enough to make her skin crawl. But between her arms screaming from the weight of everything too precious to leave behind and the raw blisters on her feet, it took all of her energy just to take each new step. She had no space for fear any longer. All that was left was pain, and that was okay, because it was better than fear, and certainly better than despair.

And so Manon continued to put one foot in front of the other, even as the twisted branches overhead became so thick that the light of the moon barely made it to the forest floor. There was no option to turn back, no alternate plan. She had worn out her welcome in the only home she had ever known, and now all there was left to do was to keep moving. So, she did. Manon walked and walked, and didn’t think about the fact that everyone she had ever loved and everything she had ever known was behind her. She didn’t think about the people chasing her, nor what would come of her if she were caught. After what felt like hours, she began to stumble on roots and rocks and other things unseen, too tired to step without error, until blood ran down her knees and small rocks embedded themselves in her palms. But each time she fell, she stood back up and continued on. Manon was nothing if not an optimist, and so she told herself that soon her steps would lead her somewhere better than where she was.

Just when she felt her body could go on no more, and her eyes began to search for a soft pile of leaves or a flat patch of earth to lie on, she heard a howl. It wasn’t a distant noise, but was so close that the sound vibrated in her chest. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her heart began to thud as hot adrenaline coursed through her veins. Manon’s body seemed to decide at once that now wasn’t the time to lie down and give up after all. With her renewed fear she found the strength to run.

She dodged trees and lept over fallen branches, and didn’t dare look back, even when the next howl sounded as if it were coming from right behind her. One of her bags caught on a branch and when she pulled it free the contents spilled out, so many of her cherished belongings littering the forest floor. But there was no stopping.

Manon had thought there was nothing more frightening than the bone chilling howls, but the sound of footfalls behind her proved her wrong. The creature was gaining on her and she was running out of time. Her hand shot into one of her bags, pulling out her grandmother’s homemade dried beef. She tossed it over her shoulder, sending up a prayer to the old gods that it would be enough to tempt a hungry beast.

As if they took mercy on her, the forest began to thin. In front of her appeared a small cottage. The windows glowed and smoke rose from the chimney. Without thinking Manon ran up the front porch, and pulled the handle to the door. And because apparently she was due another miracle, it opened.

She barreled into the cabin, spun around, and pushed the lock into place. Her belongings fell from her hands and she sank to the floor. There she sat, unable to do anything but breathe in and out, and listen to the slowing of her heart. The fact that she was sitting in a stranger’s home all but forgotten until she heard a voice.

“Bastien.” The voice was deep and all gravel. Her body instantly went rigid, her heart speeding right back up. When would this godsforsaken night end? “It looks like we have a visitor.” Loud footsteps sounded against the floor and then Manon could feel the warmth of someone standing right behind her. Nails so sharp they felt like claws ran through her hair and tickled her scalp, the sensation made her shiver. Hot breath caressed her neck as the voice said, “Have you come to play with us, darling?”

She knew she should turn and fight, or run, but she was frozen in place, too shocked to do or say anything at all. Another voice sounded, it was just as gravelly as the first, but it seemed to hold warmth where the other cut like steel. “Christ, Aimon. Leave the poor girl alone. Clearly she’s been running from something. She’s probably cold and frightened.” She heard this new person approaching her and felt a warm hand at her back. “Now listen. We aren’t going to harm you. You are safe here.” She shifted to turn and face the person speaking but was quickly stopped. “Wait. Don’t turn around yet. You are safe. Nod if you understand that.” She nodded. For a reason she could not explain, Manon trusted this voice. “I’m Bastien. And the brute who unnecessarily accosted you a moment ago is Aimon. I promise he will not harm you. And neither will I. What is your name sweet girl? – if a girl is what you are.”

Her voice came out weak and raspy, “It’s Manon. And yes, I am a girl...though perhaps not a sweet one.” She wheezed out a nervous laugh.

“Ah, Manon. Belle.” His praise sent a shock of welcomed heat through her body. “Fine, you are a girl, but whether you are sweet or not remains to be seen.” She went to stand, and greet this Bastien. It felt silly talking while facing the door. But with a hand on her back, he stilled her once more. “There is something that you must understand before you turn around,” he continued. She wondered if they had scarring or burns on their faces and they wished not to scare her, as if she would ever be bothered by such a trivial thing. “Inside we are but ordinary men.”

She heard a chuckle and the one called Aimon spoke, “Are we ordinary, my love?” His voice was still harsh but his words were laced with something sweeter this time. Perhaps these men were lovers. There were no men living openly in this way in her village, but she knew it was possible. Certainly men might feel something with one another, as she was no stranger to the pull of her own gender.

Bastien’s warm voice filled her ears again, “We are ordinary enough. But outside, we do not look like ordinary men. And I fear we may scare you when you look upon us. It is clear you have had enough terror for one night, but again I promise we will not harm you. Tell me you understand that, Manon.”

“I understand.” She spoke with more confidence this time. Two lovers concerned about her emotional state sounded like paradise after running from beasts in the forest and a priest hell bent on her demise, so she stood and turned. When she looked upon their faces Manon only managed not to scream because the air had rushed out of her lungs too quickly to manage it. In front of her were not the scarred faces of men but the faces of wolves.

“Manon. I need you to breathe. Please.” She took a deep breath, then another. “That’s it. Remember, we will not hurt you. We are not the wild wolves of the forest.” When her eyes focused again she realized that he was right. Their faces were not entirely canine. They were something else, not quite wolves and not quite men. She recognized the voice of the one who had just spoken as Bastien. His hair, or fur, was thick and tawny, the part of his face that lacked hair was the same color. The amber eyes that looked down at her were clearly human. His ears were as a wolf’s, and the bottom of his face, where a wolf’s snout would be, was only slightly elongated. Bastien’s lips were full like a human’s, except for the two fangs that showed between them.

“Okay.” She steadied herself and looked at him with what she hoped was confidence. “I’m okay. I apologize. That was rude of me.” While everyone in her town seemed to be sure that Manon lacked morals, she did care about being kind.

The man broke into a grin and Manon forced herself to continue breathing normally when his smile revealed a mouth full of fangs. She must have failed because Aimon chuckled. “Darling, how can you expect her to keep her wits about her with that smile?”

His broad grin became sheepish. “I am sorry, Manon. My teeth must appear rather frightening.”

“Never apologize for your smile, dear. It’s dazzling.”

Manon turned to look at Aimon at the same time that Bastien did. She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. She had thought Bastien was fearsome looking, but he had nothing on Aimon. The man was partially covered in stormy grey fur, his eyes were solid black, and a silver scar slashed angrily across his face. He laughed and she got a glimpse of fangs and a midnight black tongue. “And now she has seen the true monster.”

Manon felt a blush overtake her face. Here these men were showing her kindness in her time of need and she was gawking at them. “I-I am so sorry. Really.”

A wicked grin took over Aimon’s face and he ran a black claw down the side of her cheek. “My dear. How could I be mad at a face like that?” He ran his thumb along her lower lip. “When you blush so prettily for us, your cheeks are almost as red as your hair.” His midnight tongue darted out to lick his lips. “It’s delicious.”

“Darling.” Bastien shot an irritated glare at Aimon. “Please stop frightening our guest. She doesn’t want to be seduced by you. She wants a warm place to sleep and I imagine some hot tea.”

“Bas, everyone wants to be seduced by me. I can’t believe you’d suggest otherwise.” Aimon pressed his lips to Bastien’s cheek, and then ran his teeth down the length of the other man’s jaw. Bastien’s eyes fell shut and just for a moment a look of sheer pleasure overtook his features. Manon felt her heart quicken at the sight of them, she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together. When Aimon pulled away, Bastien’s eyes snapped back open and he cleared his throat.

“Well.” He audibly swallowed. “How about that tea?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said, her voice coming out far too breathy. Aimon gave her a knowing look, and she did her best not to blush any further. All of the sudden these two self-proclaimed monsters didn’t seem very monstrous at all.

Aimon and Bastien’s cottage was small. It consisted mostly of one open living area with two sofas, a dining table, and a small kitchen. Bastien busied himself preparing their tea while Aimon showed her around. He pointed to an empty corner of the room. “You are welcome to put your things there for now. And you can take your pick of either sofa to sleep on. We’ll get some blankets for you, and we’ll keep the fire going through the night to keep you warm. That is, unless you decide you’d like to share our bed. It’s very big.” His black eyes quite literally twinkled. Manon wasn’t sure if she should laugh at his ridiculous confidence or melt into a puddle of lust. She had no idea if he was being serious or not. It was clear he and Bastien were a couple, and while most in her village would say that she was far too worldly for her own good, she knew not if such things were done. The thought of her village sent a wave of sadness through her. She would not miss the cruel remarks, the way they had treated her as if she were the devil herself, but still, it was all she had ever known. Her eyes began to prickle, apparently she hadn’t cried her share of tears after all.

“Manon.” She looked up at Aimon through blurry eyes. His brow was furrowed, he looked–concerned. “Beautiful girl, have I brought you to tears with the thought of my cock?” She couldn’t help but let out a cackle at his crassness. It felt good to laugh. “It certainly would be the first time,” he continued. He wiped away a tear from her cheek and said, “I apologize if I am being too forward. I would never do anything you didn’t ask for. You are welcome to sleep alone on the sofa while you are here. We will not ask more of you.”

She nodded. “It’s not that, I promise. I do not cry because of your,” she cleared her throat, “cock. I just miss my home.”

“I am sorry. I will not ask for your story tonight. But if you want to share in the morning we will be happy to listen,” said Aimon.

She sniffled. “Thank you.”

He held onto her face for just one more moment before pulling away. “I’ll go fetch you some blankets.” He gave her a rueful smile and walked toward the back of the room. She couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting to his backside. At first it was just to see if he had a tail like a wolf—he did not—then, because under his wool trousers his ass was round and his thighs thick, she let her eyes linger.

Just when Aimon stepped into what she assumed was the bedroom, Bastien spoke, “He really is magnificent is he not?”

She startled and turned to look at him, “Oh I- I mean.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Curse her fair skin and red hair.

He smiled at her and handed over the cup of tea she hadn’t realized he had been holding. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. If my skin were as fair as yours my cheeks would be eternally that same color. Well–maybe not quite as lovely.” What a strange turn her night had taken. Only an hour ago she was running for her life in the cold, and now she was safe and warm, and being flirted with by charming wolfmen. She was not convinced she hadn’t fallen in the forest and hit her head.

She took a sip of tea while thinking of what she could possibly say next, but then her mind went blank. “This is the best tea I’ve ever had!”

He smiled even wider, she couldn’t tell if the effect was charming or terrifying. “I made it myself. Er– I mean, I grew the herbs myself in my garden.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” he went on, “for a pair of monsters we really are quite civilized.”

“Speak for yourself. I am a monster, unbending to society's rules,” declared Aimon, his eyes barely visible over the massive pile of quilts he was carrying.

Manon let out another laugh. He set the blankets down on the couch and gave her a stern look, though the corners of his lips seemed to jump up on their own accord. “Excuse me. I am fearsome, please do not laugh.”

She giggled again, unable to help herself. He moved at lightning speed, before she could blink Aimon was standing right in front of her. His black gaze bore into her as if he wanted to eat her alive. Heat pooled in her belly. She should be afraid, but it wasn’t fear that sent a shiver through her. She had a feeling that his look contained the promise of pleasure, rather than pain. He leaned closer and growled low in her ear. Her nipples prickle with arousal. “You smell divine.” She felt her sex clench.

“Mon cher.” Bastien pressed a kiss to Aimon’s cheek. “Leave her be. She’s been through a lot tonight.” He kissed the top of Manon’s head. The sensation sent a totally different kind of warmth through her, one she was far less familiar with. He led her to the couch and sat down beside her. “Aimon, can you go get something for Manon to sleep in?”

He let out another low growl, “Am I being sent away?”

“Yes, darling,” replied Bastien.

Aimon turned and strode toward the bedroom, when he passed the sofa he produced a sound Manon could only describe as a roar.

Bastien chuckled under his breath, “Yes love, we’re very frightened.”

Manon had never seen anyone interact the way the two of them did. The love they had for one another was just so obvious, and they didn’t try for one second to hide it. The only thing Manon knew of relationships came from her grandparents and the couples in her village. Few of those relationships seemed to exist for any other reason than the upholding of tradition, or perhaps to share the duties of familial life. But she couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen her grandparents laugh together. For a moment she stopped feeling sorry for herself, and instead felt a pang of sadness for all the people who would never know it could be like this. She shook her head. She didn’t even know these men. This could all be some farce to trick her into safety only to eat her for breakfast. She winced at the thought.

“Are you alright, Manon?” Bastien asked.

Forcing a smile she responded, “Yes, I just have a lot to think about.”

“It seems you’ve had quite a night.”

As she nodded, Aimon appeared with a pile of clothes. “Let’s get you to bed then.”

By the time Manon was washed and dressed for bed she could barely keep her eyes open. The two men walked her back to the sofa and arranged the blankets on top of her. While she wasn’t sure she fully trusted them yet, she also couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so cared for. She sent up yet another prayer that this wasn’t just some hypothermia-induced dream. Each man pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and then left for their bedroom. Manon blew out the candle on the table next to her and nestled under the covers.

Just as she was beginning to drift off, she heard a groan. Her stomach dropped. Was one of them hurt? Bastien and Aimon had been so kind to her, the thought of either of them being sick filled her with a shocking amount of dread. But then she heard a moan, not of pain, but of unmistakable pleasure. Oh. The idea of them making love had heat rushing to her sex. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled her ears. Manon bit her lip. She knew she shouldn't but she couldn’t stop herself from sliding her hand up and under the oversized shirt they had given her to sleep in. She parted her sex to find herself wet. Another moan came from the other room followed by low voices. She wondered what they were doing. Perhaps they had finished, or maybe they were sharing filthy words. She liked that idea.

She remembered Aimon’s hot breath as he whispered in her ear. She circled her clit, a soft moan escaping her lips. This wasn’t her home. She had had to flee her village because of her own promiscuity, perhaps she should stop. She should cover her head with a pillow and think of other things. But then a sound that was half moan and half whimper came from the bedroom, followed by Bastien growling Aimon’s name. The sound of their bodies moving against one another picked up again. And Manon couldn’t help herself. She was who she was, and she was working on making peace with that.

So she slipped a finger inside her cunt, and then another, stretching herself, imagining it was the hard length of one of the men filling her. She bucked against her own hand, grinding her clitoris against her palm. She was already so close. She added another finger and pinched one of her nipples, just hard enough to sting. Their moans could be clearly heard from the other room now, as if they had given up trying to be quiet. Maybe they were too far gone in their pleasure to care, or maybe they wanted her to hear. The thought had her moving her hips against her hand even faster.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes. Aimon, Please.” She heard Bastien shout.

“That’s it, baby,” Aimon’s voice was pure lust and gravel, “come for me.” Bastien let out another moan, the sound was so desperate it had Manon’s own release slamming through her. Stars flashed behind her closed eyelids and even as warmth burst from her center and into her veins, she continued to work her clitoris wringing out every ounce of pleasure to be had. As she came, images of the two men moving against each other flashed through her brain. She imagined Aimon, face contorted by lust, with his hand fisted around Bastien’s cock moving up and down as the other man shuddered underneath him. Manon wanted to see it. She wanted to join them. But then her orgasm finally came to an end, and the noises from the other room subsided. She wiped her hand onto her borrowed shirt, too wrung out to feel a single ounce of guilt. And then she drifted off to sleep.

The sound of crackling bacon woke Manon from her sleep. She inhaled the mouth-watering scent and stretched, wincing at the soreness of her muscles. When she opened her eyes she saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Manon was not in her own house. Last night's events rushed back to her all at once: she had fled the only home she had ever known, wandered alone in the forest, ran from wolves–wolves. She sat up. Bastien stood facing the stove, presumably cooking the bacon. Aimon leaned against the kitchen counter. He sipped from a mug of something steaming, and his eyes gleamed above the rim. Her face heated as she remembered more of last night, the sounds she had heard, the way Bastien had begged Aimon for more–more of what exactly?

“Someone seems to be having wicked thoughts this morning.”

“Darling, I am far too focused on flipping this bacon without getting grease on my shirt to be thinking dirty thoughts,” replied Bastien.

“I was speaking to the girl.”

“Oh.” Bastien spun around. “Good morning, Manon!” He threw another toothy smile in her direction. “I hope you slept well.”

“I did. Thank you.”

“The noise didn’t keep you up?” Aimon shot her a smoldering look.

“Oh–uh.” Manon frantically tried to come up with something to say when Bastien saved her the trouble.

“The wind was so loud last night! It took me forever to fall asleep honestly. It’s not usually so bad.”

Aimon turned to Bastien and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Gods you’re adorable.”

“Wha–? Oh–merde!” Bastien jumped back from the stove. “That is not going to come out.”

Aimon grabbed a cloth and wet it with water from the kettle. “Come here.” He pressed the cloth to where Manon assumed the spot of grease was. Watching the two of them caused something deep in her chest to ache. She imagined herself walking over to them and burying herself between them. “I have no idea why you are even wearing a shirt while cooking bacon. I thought you had decided that this was the only possible outcome,” Aimon continued.

Bastien looked sheepishly toward Manon. “I didn’t want to scare her.”

Aimon barked out a laugh. The sound was so surprising coming from him that Manon found herself grinning. “Darling. The girl ran through the forest alone and is sitting in the house of literal monsters. I think she can handle your torso.” Bastien grimaced and Aimon lifted up on the balls of his feet to kiss the top of the other man’s head. Then he slid his hands up under the sides of Bastien’s shirt. His hands moved over skin and fur, slowly pulling off the white linen shirt as he went.

“That’s it,” Aimon growled in his ear. Bastien lifted his arms and let him pull the shirt over his head. The look on Bastien’s face told her that he would have let the other man do anything to him in that moment, and the thought set Manon aflame.

Once Bastien’s chest was completely bare, he looked at Manon. His gaze held both arousal and concern, as if he thought she really might go running now that she could see that his wolfish traits were not just confined to his face and claws. But running was the last thing on her mind. Her eyes blazed a trail down his body, taking in every single inch of him. His chest and abdomen were pure muscle and she wanted to trace each line and edge with her fingers and tongue. Her eyes moved downward still and she felt the walls of her sex contract at the sight of the indented muscles that created a v-shape, leading to his waistband. At this point she knew she wasn’t being subtle so she let herself continue. When her eye’s moved below the waist of his trousers she let out an audible gasp. Grey fabric strained against his erection. She wanted to run her face against the taut wool, wanted to take out his cock and feel it pulsing in her hand. After a long moment, her eyes moved back to his face. There was not an ounce of worry left in his gaze. His amber irises had melted into molten puddles of lust. He seemed only a second from jumping on her and ripping off her clothes, and Manon wanted him to.

She had felt attraction many times before in her life, but this was different. It was as if the air between them was alive, it crackled with potential, and it pulled her towards them. She found herself not caring to resist. When Bastien took a step towards her, his thick thigh flexed under his trousers and the light from the window danced along his bare body. She realized that she didn’t just need to make love to this man, she needed to capture him. Her fingers itched for her charcoal, to draw this man in all of his soft angles, and sharp edges. But before she could do anything at all, Bastien did the last thing she expected. He sneezed.

It was as if the three of them suddenly emerged from a lust induced trance and were thrust back into a less-than-ideal reality. The small cottage was filling with black smoke and the stove was—on fire.

Bastien spun around and shouted, “Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Both men lept into motion as they tried to put out the fire. Manon hopped off the couch and winced as her blistered feet hit the floor. She hobbled over to the windows and threw them open to let out the rising smoke.

When the fire was finally out and the remains of the burnt bacon disposed of, the three of them stood in the kitchen. Manon was huddled in a blanket, as the winter air had fully infiltrated the previously cozy dwelling. Aimon stood behind Bastien, he leaned lazily against the kitchen counter with the other man in his arms. “My dear, I think you were right,” said Aimon.

“And what was I right about?” asked Bastien.

“I fear it would have been safer for us all if you had kept your shirt on.”

Manon burst out laughing. Both men looked at her and smiled, as if delighted by the sound of her joy. “Well, what are we to do about breakfast?” inquired Manon.

Aimon licked his lips and looked her up and down. “I can think of something I’d like to eat.” Only, her stomach chose that exact moment to growl.

Bastien chuckled and slapped Aimon’s thigh. “I think this occasion might call for actual food, dear.” Aimon growled but stood up straight, forcing Bastien up as well. “There’s still the first batch of bacon. And we also have bread and apricot jam.”

“Yes. The jam. Please,” Aimon groaned.

Manon raised her eyebrows. “Is it that good?”

“To die for. Once Bastien let me spread it all over his body and—”

“I was thinking we could eat outside!” Bastien blurted out. “Since—you know, it’s still a bit smoky in here and we have to keep the windows open anyways.”

Outside. The word bounced around in her head and fell to her chest, slamming into her again and again. The idea of leaving the safety of the cottage sent a sudden rush of fear through her. “The animals won’t bother us? Even with the smell of bacon?” Despite the lovely, and surreal, morning she’d been having with the two men, the horror of last night apparently wasn’t far from her mind. Because what if the beasts that had chased her reappeared once they stepped back outside? Surely, they all of the sudden wouldn’t just disappear. Her stomach dropped even further, at the realization that if it wasn’t today, she’d still have to go back out there sometime soon. Because how long could she realistically even stay in Bastien and Aimon’s cottage? The two men clearly had lives of their own. They didn’t need some girl they had just met taking up space in their lives.

Manon thought she had accepted her fate. She knew she would rather be on her own than pretend to be someone she wasn’t. But in the chaos of her escape, she hadn’t really had time to process what it would really mean. Sure, she could find some other town to start over in, but how soon before the rumors started again? Manon had never cast a spell or brewed a potion in her life, but it was clear what women like her were in the eyes of the church. Evil. Wicked. Witch. And there was only one thing to be done with witches. Burn them.

A hand on Manon’s cheek pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. She looked up to see Aimon’s eyes full of concern. Up until that point Bastien had seemed to be the warm one, the kind one. But the look in his eyes was so tender when he spoke. “Come here.” She took a step forward and he pulled her into his arms. Resting her head on his chest, she inhaled his scent. He was all pine, and earth, and whisky. She felt her heart rate begin to slow, and her muscles begin to relax. Right now she was safe. Right now she was okay.

Bastien came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. “The wolves are never around in the daylight, Manon,” he said against her hair. “Besides, no beast will come near us. We are by far the scariest creatures that live in these woods.” She laughed into Aimon’s chest. After this morning she couldn’t imagine anyone being afraid of these two. “I am serious. Does she not think we’re frightening?”

“It appears not. Perhaps she is in need of spectacles. Look up here, darling.” Aimon reached down and lifted her chin. He bared his fangs and said, “You see. Look at how big and sharp my fangs are. I’d tell you to feel for yourself but they could probably cut your finger just from one touch.”

She laughed. “Oui, I am truly terrified. A man so concerned for my fingers he doesn’t dare let me touch his tooth. I am shaking in horror.” Manon was grateful for the moment of levity. She would do her best to enjoy her time here, as long or as short as it may be. “Let’s go outside and eat then. I’ve been promised bacon.”

Since Manon had little to wear, she donned a pair of Bastien’s pants that they tied at the waist with rope, and then they wrapped her in several more blankets. Her shoes were still soaked and her feet were too sore to wear them anyways, so Aimon picked her up and plopped her at a table with two long benches that sat outside. She felt rather silly and useless as she watched the two men carry out the food and arrange the table, but they had told her that she had been through enough and deserved a rest, and she could not argue with that.

By the time breakfast was finally served Manon was absolutely ravenous. She reached for a piece of bacon, ate it in three bites, and then reached for another. It was salty and crunchy and cooked to absolute perfection. She reached for a slice of bread. The outside was perfectly crisp, and the inside perfectly soft. She spread a thick helping of butter on it before slathering it in jam. Last night she had been cold and hungry in the forest, this morning she was enjoying a delicious breakfast among new friends. She smiled to herself and took a bite of bread, a moan escaping her lips. This apricot jam was the best she had ever had. It was the perfect mix of sweet and tangy, she closed her eyes and let the flavor overwhelm her senses.

The thing about Manon was that she couldn’t get enough of life’s pleasures. The tastes, the smells, the sensations, she was greedy for them. Manon didn’t just want to smell the roses, she wanted to bathe in them. She wanted to feel the petals on her bare skin, and weave the flowers into her hair so she could carry their scent with her wherever she went. This was also what seemed to constantly get her into trouble. Because apparently enjoyment and pleasure weren’t proper, or polite, or godly. But if this God had created life–why was she constantly chastised in his name for enjoying his gifts?

The sensation of jam spilling down the sides of her bread onto her hand pulled her from her musings. She licked the sticky sweetness from her fingers before reaching for her tea. She looked up when she heard a low groan come from the other side of the table. Bastien and Aimon were both looking at her slack-jawed. Merde. She’d gotten too excited over the food and horrified her hosts with her atrocious table manners. They were all that stood between her and a literal pack of wolves. “I’m sorry,” she said. She hated the way the words sounded on her lips. Manon thought most niceties and table manners were pointless, but again – pack of wolves.

“There’s no need to apologize,” said Aimon, his voice even deeper and rougher than before. “We just aren’t used to such... entertaining guests.”

Bastien weezed and Aimon passed him a glass of water. He continued. “Some of us,” he shot a toothy grin at Bastien, “are just feeling a little overstimulated this morning.”

Oh. Manon shifted in her seat. She had been licking at her fingers rather enthusiastically. She took another sip of tea to keep from smiling. She rather liked seeing these two all riled up, especially Bastien. He was now taking deep breaths and looking anywhere but her direction. Aimon seemed to like it too. He ran a hand through Bastien’s thick mane.

“For poor Bastien’s sake, I think it’s time for a change in subject,” declared Aimon. Bastien grimaced and huffed out a sardonic puff of air. “Tell us Manon, what brought you into our woods?”

“Well–” Manon chewed on her lip. If there was anyone who would understand her it would be these two. Besides, it wasn’t as if they could go and turn her into Father Moreau. Manon lifted her chin and looked at them. She would not cower. “I’m a witch. Can’t you tell?”

Aimon laughed loudly, but Bastien blanched. His face went slack, and the skin visible on his face turned ashen. “So you came to our woods for protection,” said Aimon. “I understand. It is a danger to be feared, Manon. But nothing is a danger to you here. Do delight us with tales of your witchery.” Manon gave a pointed look at Bastien, who now had started to sweat. Aimon grabbed Bastien’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Bastien is just a bit wary of witches. He once complained about the cassoulet at one of the local taverns, and the chef turned out to be a witch. She cursed him with diarrhea and a rash for a fortnight. The poor thing.”

“How do you know it wasn’t just a spoiled cassoulet?” asked Manon, right before shoving an entire piece of bacon in her mouth.

Bastien gave her a dry look. “The rash was purple. And my shit actually smoked.”

A laugh escaped Manon’s lips before she could stop it. It truly wasn’t funny, it just sounded so ridiculous. But then she thought about how it must have hurt. Bastien’s face was now set in a grimace. The idea of anything hurting this sweet gentle man felt so wrong to Manon. The thought of his pain made her insides turn sour. She stood, pulling the blankets tightly around her, and walked awkwardly on sore feet around to the other side of the table, where Bastien sat beside Aimon. Then she realized that what she was hoping to accomplish would be impossible while holding up half her weight in blankets, so she piled them up on an empty corner of the table.

“What are you–” began Bastien. But then the breath left his lungs on a woosh, when she wrapped her arms around him.

Manon planted a kiss on his cheek, which, now that he was seated she could do with ease. She pressed her face into his tawny hair. Gods, he smelled incredible. His scent was lighter than Aimon’s, but certainly no less intoxicating, all meadows and honey. “I’m sorry I laughed,” she murmured into his hair. “I would never hurt you.” He lifted his arms, forcing her arms open and off of him. Her heart immediately sank. She barely knew this man and she was throwing herself at him. Absolutely typical Manon behavior, she thought, throwing her heart around at anyone who would take it. But then Bastien’s massive hands grabbed her waist and lifted her, right into his lap. An undignified, “oh!” came out of her at the surprise of it.

“Is this alright?” His voice came out rather stilted, as if he feared she was going to say no. But she was far warmer in his arms than she had been in her blankets. Plus, his thighs and torso felt delicious against her, under her.

At her “mmmhmm” his whole body relaxed.

Then, a low growl came from beside them. Manon swung her head around toward the sound. A dangerous smirk had overtaken Aimon’s features. “You know,” he began, “the two of you are making me very jealous.” His words were sharp, but his eyes seemed to sparkle, as if he was actually quite enjoying the sight of the two of them so close to one another. Manon understood this, understood the joy of watching. So, instead of apologizing, she grinned right back at him and squirmed in Bastien’s lap, delighting in the feel of her body moving against his. She did this all while staring directly into Aimon’s eyes, she just couldn’t help herself.

Bastien let out a strangled wheezing sound, which caused Aimon’s face to light up, not with a smirk or a grin, but a brilliant smile. “Dear Manon, I fear you are overwhelming poor Bastien. You really mustn’t tease him so.” Manon giggled with delight–until she felt the length of Bastien hardening under her. Then, when his hardness hit her sex just right, her giggle abruptly turned into a whimper.

Aimon’s expression became devious again. He turned toward them so he was straddling the bench, and then scooted closer, until his body was almost flush with Bastien’s and his face was mere inches from her own. He reached up and dragged his claws through her hair. Her whole body shuddered, which caused her to move again against Bastien’s erection. Her nipples were tight against her shirt now, aching for attention. It took all of Manon’s focus not to grind herself against Bastien’s growing erection.

“We’re still waiting to hear of your witchery, sweet Manon,” said Aimon.

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “I am a sexual deviant.” Manon felt Bastien’s cock twitch at her words. His hands had migrated to her thighs, where he was drawing small circles with his thumbs.

“Oh are you?” Aimon laughed.

“And what does that entail?” Bastien whispered against her ear. Her back arched slightly on its own accord, her body begging for what her mouth wouldn’t ask for.

“I–” it took all of her concentration to form complete sentences. “I like having sex a lot. With—um–many types of people.”

Aimon ran his cheek along her jawline and buried his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply. “Ah, Manon, I knew you looked like fun. But we are the same, and Bastien and I are not witches.”

“I also–”

Bastien’s hands slid higher. His thumbs pressed at the apex of her thighs, and he said nothing, did nothing, as if he was still on the right side of propriety and this was a normal way for mere acquaintances to touch. But Manon was past pretending as if nothing was happening. She couldn’t pretend when only a few flimsy pieces of fabric were all that separated Bastien’s cock from her own slickening sex. She shifted her hips, desperately seeking friction, rocking back and forth as if she were riding him. Everytime the hardness of him brushed against her clitoris her entire body lit up with pleasure.

“You also...” Aimon said, nipping at her earlobe. But all Manon could do was whimper. Words were lost to her. She couldn’t think straight. She was so desperate for release it consumed her. Bastien’s claws dug into her thighs. She could feel his body shaking against hers. Aimon’s lips brushed along her neck, and then she felt the wetness of his tongue at her collarbone. “Manon,” he whispered against her skin. Her nipples tightened at the deep rumble of his voice. “Let us help you, ma jolie. Let us make you feel good.” She nodded.

As if aroused by her assent, a choked moan came from Bastien. Then his hands moved higher so they covered the tops of her thighs and his thumbs pressed just above her clitoris. He pushed down, forcing her to grind even harder and faster against him. His breath grew ragged in her ear, the sound of his pleasure heightening her own arousal. Aimon grasped her waist with both hands. He stayed there for a moment, feeling Bastien work her against his cock. One of his hands slid down to cup her ass. The fabric of her loose trousers still covered her, but in that moment she wished that she was totally bared to them. She wanted to give up control to them, she wanted them to ravish her, to take her every way they pleased. Aimon’s other hand slid up to the front of her tunic. He ran a claw around one of her taut nipples, then he pinched it. A tremor shot through her. It was too much. Aimon’s lips met hers and she was gone. White hot pleasure shot through her body and light burst behind her eyelids. She moaned into Aimon’s mouth, but he didn’t stop kissing her, touching her, neither of them did. Then there was nothing but pure bliss.

Manon’s body slumped against Bastien’s. He had gone all limp too. What was keeping him upright, she had no idea. He let out a soft satisfied hum. Manon liked this part as much as the actual orgasms and sex. The part where her body was made out of jelly, and so was her partner’s, and they got to just lay there in the glory of all the things their bodies could do together. Had Bastien climaxed as well? She hoped so. Manon sat up and turned around. Bastien was lying against Aimon’s chest, who seemed to have been holding the two of them up, as the bench had no back. Bastien’s eyes were hooded and a soft smile played at his lips. “Not yet,” he growled. And then attempted to pull her back against him, but she fought to stay upright.

“Did you come?” she blurted out.

Bastien’s smile grew wicked and Aimon chuckled. “She must be quite the sexual deviant,” said Aimon as he stroked a hand down Bastien’s chest. “Saying things like that.”

Manon felt her cheeks heat.

“Whatever she is, I like it,” replied Bastien. He winked lazily at her. “etoui, I did.” His eyes dropped to where Manon was seated on his lap. She lifted up and looked down. There was a wet spot on the front of his trousers. Manon fought a smile, and lost. Debauching this man filled her with a sort of pride. Gods, something truly was wrong with her. No, she quickly corrected herself. She was done thinking things like that.

Aimon seemed to hear her thoughts, or at least read her expression, because he reached up and cupped her cheek and said, “You were perfect, sweet Manon.” Warmth spread through her. Unsure of what to do or say, she nodded. His eyes still shone with arousal. He clearly hadn’t come. Shouldn’t they take care of that? She wondered. She looked to Bastien who still looked utterly unconcerned.

Bastien shook his head. “He likes to wait sometimes. Likes to stay hard until he can’t take it.” Bastien smirked and brushed his fingers against Aimon’s lips. The other man shut his eyes and shuddered. Bastien flashed another toothy grin. “The sexual deviant.”

Aimon shrugged. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I like what I like.” He planted a kiss on Bastien’s forehead.

Bastien nuzzled the other man’s chest and reached out to wrap his arms back around Manon’s waist. “Come back,” he said, and she did. The smell of the two men intermingled was somehow both cozy and dizzying. She rested her head against Bastien’s chest, and let herself be held.

They stayed there like that for a while, in one another’s arms, listening to the sound of the woods. Manon could barely believe that this was the same woods that had filled her with such fear less than a day ago. Maybe it was the difference of the morning light, or the warm arms wrapped around her, but she found herself calmed by the sounds and sights of the forest. There were no prying eyes here, no whispering mouths, no one she needed to placate with false nods and smiles. There was just the creaking of branches in the gentle wind, the rustle of the occasional squirrel or rabbit, and the fresh biting air that was somehow simultaneously invigorating and soothing.

Eventually Bastien stirred and Manon was forced to sit up. He kissed her cheek and spoke against her neck, “Sorry love, I just have to– ” he paused for a moment, clearly not knowing how to continue.

“Clean yourself up before your spend freezes in your trousers?” Aimon finished for him. Manon could hear the smirk in his voice. Bastien barked out a laugh so loud a small flock of birds burst into the sky, fleeing a neighboring tree.

“Yes, exactly that,” Bastien replied. Manon turned to look at the two of them. Aimon’s eyes glittered with amusement while a self-deprecating smile played at Bastien’s lips. The effect was dazzling. She reluctantly stood so he could get up. As soon as Bastien was standing, Aimon pulled Manon down into his lap. He was just as warm, but his arms felt more rigid and powerful. He emanated a dangerous energy that for some reason didn’t seem to scare Manon, but rather had her nipples hardening again against the fabric of her shirt. Bastien grinned at the two of them. “Don’t do anything too fun without me.”

Aimon reached out to grasp Bastien’s hand and bring it to his mouth. “Never, mon coeur. I just plan on learning a bit more about our lovely house guest. And don’t worry, I’ll share all the dirty details.”

Bastien’s eyes met Manon’s. “Don’t let him scare you off, love. He’s all bark, and only a little bite.” Then he grabbed a handful of their dirty dishes from breakfast and sauntered back toward the cottage.

Manon felt her heart speed up as Aimon’s words played through her mind. What did he mean by dirty details? “Are you going to interrogate me now?” she asked. His arms closed around her further, pulling her impossibly tight against him. His still semi hard cock prodded against her bottom.

“I will never hurt you, Manon. However–” his voice suddenly became detached and icy. “If you do not tell me of your magics and who is hunting you I will not let you continue to stay here. I understand if you wish to leave and keep your privacy, but if I have any reason to believe your presence will put Bastien in danger, I will send you away without a second thought.” He loosened his grip around her and brushed a soothing hand against her cheek. “I protect the people I love, Manon. And while so far I have enjoyed your presence very much, I love that man in there with everything I am.”

Manon’s heart swelled in her chest. Instead of being hurt by his words, she was overcome with the strangest mixture of warmth and jealousy. These wolfish men were kinder and more wonderful than any human man she had ever come across. Their love was so bright it almost hurt to look at. Longing gutted her, because in that moment she couldn’t help but want to be loved like that too. Manon shut her eyes and nodded, fighting against the prickling of oncoming tears. She had spent her life striving to be herself and learning not to care when others despised her for it. Even those she had once thought of as her best friends had either completely deserted her, or only wanted to be her friend in private. Manon didn’t even let herself wish that people would openly like her, let alone openly love her. But his words made her want it so badly she ached.

She buried her face against Aimon’s neck and breathed him in. Despite his words, he held her with care. “Please do not be upset, Manon. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to throw you out.” He ran a hand through her hair.

She sniffled and cleared her throat. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I will tell you whatever you wish. It’s no secret. Truly, I possess no magics. One does not need powers of any sort to be called a witch where I am from. I can brew no potions, nor cast a single spell. I have no powers beyond that of any ordinary person. You see, I had been on precarious terms with those more conservatively minded in my town for a long time. As I mentioned before, I have quite the um– sexual appetite. For a while it didn’t cause too many problems, just some broken friendships and unkind words.” A low growl rumbled in Aimon’s chest. “However, I began to sleep with the wrong people I suppose. Then the wrong people found out.” Manon heaved a sigh into Aimon and he leaned his head on top of hers. She felt so weary, so tired. But for once, someone seemed to be listening without judgment, so she continued, “You see, I also draw.”

Aimon snorted, “Have they also outlawed art in this backwards town? And they call us monsters. The next thing you know humans will outlaw dancing.” Manon giggled, but he really wasn’t far off. “Sorry darling, do go on.”

“It’s not that drawing is outlawed; it’s that I like to draw the body. I like to draw people – nude and sometimes in rather er – intimate positions. One day my grandfather was in a rage after I was late for work in our family shop, promptness is unfortunately not one of my skills. He told me that I was ungrateful for his kindness and the place he had given me to stay, and that he was done letting me take advantage of him. So he stole the drawings from my room and took them to the priest. He had been threatening to do it for so long I thought it was only a bluff. But he did it and in those drawings was a portrait of myself and the priest’s niece.” She cleared her throat before continuing. All of the sudden her voice had gotten scratchy. “She was sent away to go stay with her grandmother in another village, and I was locked up in my room to await my trial for witchery. Because surely the only way someone so pious as the priest’s niece would be convinced to make love to someone like me was through evil magics.”

“Manon,” Aimon’s voice was thick. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Only, when she said those words her voice broke on a sob.

“No it isn’t.” Manon turned her head to see Bastien standing next to them, his fur was still damp from bathing. How much had he heard? By the tightness in his expression, it seemed he had heard quite a bit. He bent down to wipe the tears from her cheeks and he scooped her out of Aimon’s arms. “Come on, mes chéris, let’s go inside.”

Bastien carried her to the fire. He sat on the end of one of the massive sofas and set Manon down right in his lap. Apparently, her designated seat in this cottage was always on top of one of these men. She wondered if she should mind. But it didn’t really matter either way– because she didn’t. But she also didn’t want to spend her entire day being consoled. She was so tired of feeling sad, so tired of mourning what could have been– had the world been a kinder place. And besides, for now, as long as she was here, the world did feel kinder.

So she dried her tears, hopped out of Bastien’s lap, and walked to the pile of her belongings. She dug through her things until her hands closed around a black leather bound book. She grinned. Just feeling it in her hands settled something inside of her. She wasn’t afraid to show them this part of herself, because she knew they would understand. She spun around to face them, but stopped short at their looks of uncertainty. She held her book out and said, “I thought maybe you’d like to see some of my drawings? Unless you’re worried about being corrupted by my devious ways?”

Bastien let out an exaggerated sigh and leaned back against Aimon who was standing behind the sofa. He looked up to meet Aimon’s eyes and said, “I thought she was grabbing her things to go!”

Aimon bent forward and ran his hands down the length of the other man’s torso. “Mmmm, as did I,” he grumbled.

Manon’s heart stuttered. She liked it here. She liked them. But she hadn’t known these men for even a full day. Why would they be concerned about her leaving? She knew what she was getting from them, but what were they getting from her? She tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “And that would be bad? If I left?”

“We’re enjoying your company, Manon,” replied Bastien. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, I mean–” Only it was rather hard to believe. She was rarely accepted for exactly who she was. Or maybe, she had never really been accepted for who she was.

“Listen, darling.” Aimon walked around the sofa and closed the distance between them. He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “We know you’ve only just met us. But, you’re special. I can feel it. Just–stay a while.” He pulled his hand away and she nodded. Just stay a while. She could do that. “So, let us see these devious drawings of yours.”

Aimon took a seat on the sofa, leaving just enough space for her to sit between the two men. She nodded and plopped herself down. Staring at the book in her hands, she swallowed. She felt a hand squeeze her thigh, and another wrap around her shoulders. The feel of them steadied something deep inside of her, so she opened her book and began to slowly flip through the pages.

A puff of air escaped Bastien’s lips. Aimon laid his hand over her’s, stopping her from turning to the next page. “Don’t. Not yet.” He lifted his hand and ran it lightly along the lines of her sketch. She would have yelled at anyone else, told them not to smudge her drawing. But the look on his face took her breath away, and there simply wasn’t room for irritation in her body. His lips were parted and his normally sharp face looked soft. The drawing was of a nude woman touching herself. One hand cupped her breast while the other reached down between her thighs. Her back was bowed and her head thrown back. Next to the sketch was a blown up image of the woman’s sex. It showed hungry fingers parting her, two of them delving inside.

Aimon ran a claw down the dark ink of her labia. Manon felt her pulse quicken and heat begin to pool low in her belly. He circled her clitoris, then ran his finger back down to the woman’s entrance. Manon felt her whole body shudder. Aimon chuckled next to her. The brute was doing this on purpose. When she looked up at him, he just winked and he turned the page. The next drawing was of a woman licking the head of a cock, and the next was two women locked in a passionate kiss. Manon watched them flip through her drawings. She had left a piece of herself on each page, but these were also images of people who had often hurt her. They were people she had grown up with, people who had enjoyed clandestine meetings and being captured in all of their beauty, but who also failed to stand up for her when she had needed them most. Finally they came to a self portrait of Manon. She was topless and caressing one of her breasts. She looked aroused in the sketch, but also maybe a little lonely.

After what felt like an eternity Bastien spoke, “Manon, these are incredible. You are incredible.” All of the air left her lungs in an instant. People had two reactions to seeing her work. They were either completely horrified, which generally led to Manon’s castigation. Or, their eyes got hungry, not for Manon, but what she could do for them. For the fantasies she could capture. She would be lying if she said she didn’t see the hunger in these men’s eyes, but she also saw something like awe. The feeling that sprouted inside of her was too beautiful and too overwhelming to dwell on.

She said the only words that came to mind. “Would you want me to– to draw you?” The energy in the room immediately changed. She felt Bastien stiffen next to her.

Aimon ran a claw down her jawline and then turned her head towards him by her chin. “You want to draw Bastien and I?” She nodded. His eyes were boring into her, as if he could see into her soul, down to her darkest desires. He leaned in until their mouths were mere centimeters away. She could feel his breath on her lips as he spoke. “You want to draw us while we fuck, Manon? Is that what you want, ma belle? Do you want my cock in his mouth? What about my fingers in his ass as he fucks his own hand? Would you like that?”

Would she like that? The idea set her on fire. The mental image of these ferocious looking men pleasuring one other for her was the single most erotic thing she could imagine. She didn’t just want it, she needed it. She nodded, but he shook his head. “I want to hear you say it. Tell us what you want.”

Manon raised her chin. She was no blushing innocent, far from it. She wouldn’t cower from speaking the truth, from putting words to her desires. She took a moment to picture exactly the scene she wanted to capture. Aimon was still staring into her eyes when she said, “I want Bastien naked in your lap, while you lean against the headboard of the bed. And I want you stroking his cock.” By the time Manon had finished speaking both she and Aimon were breathing heavily. Her nipples were tight against her borrowed tunic and her sex felt so painfully empty. Her eyes dropped to Aimon’s mouth when he licked his lips.

Then he looked over her head at Bastien. “Would you like that, love? To have her draw me stroking you?” Aimon’s mouth spread into a wicked grin. Manon followed his gaze to Bastien, whose lips were parted and eyes glazed over with lust. His broad chest heaved, and his erection strained against the front of his wool trousers. Aimon bent down to whisper in Manon’s ear, “Look at him. So needy. Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll take care of him.”

Aimon stood, his own erection at eye level. Manon barely contained the urge to cup and stroke him over his trousers. This poor man had been on edge for so long now, but other than the obscenely tented fabric in front of her, he seemed perfectly composed. She wondered how he kept from shaking with arousal. She was barely holding it together. He grabbed her and Bastien’s hands, pulling the two of them into the bedroom. The bed was unsurprisingly massive, taking up most of the room. The bedsheets were still rumpled from the night before. Aimon let go of Manon, and gently pushed a dazed Bastien onto the mattress. The look on his face screamed submission, as if at that moment he would let Aimon do absolutely anything to him. Manon marveled at the trust they must have in each other.

Aimon kissed Bastien’s cheek, and then trailed kisses down his neck while he untied the laces of his cotton tunic. Bastien let out a small gasp when Aimon pressed his tongue to his newly bared chest. Aimon’s voice was rough and deep when he spoke, “Aren’t you going to get your drawing tools ready, sweet Manon? Or are you just going to watch?”

A strangled laugh left Manon’s lips. Her body ached to join theirs but she didn’t know if she would have another chance to capture something like this. So, she ran out of the room to fetch her charcoal, and pulled up a chair next to the bed.

By the time she was settled, Bastien was fully nude and being pulled into a fully clothed Aimon’s lap. Bastien’s erect cock rested against his muscled abdomen. Manon let her eyes meander down his body. It was certainly different from any other body she had seen. The tawny fur that covered most of him did nothing to hide the powerful muscles in his thick thighs or taut obliques. His cock was the same as any other she had seen, perhaps thicker, longer. But his arousal lit up her insides in a way that no others before him had.

Finally, her gaze wandered to Aimon. His dark eyes gleamed and he sent her a wicked grin. The feeling it gave her was no less potent than the one she got from Bastien. He grasped Bastien’s cock and stroked it once. The muscles in Aimon’s forearm rippled as he swirled his fist around the head of the other man’s cock. Bastien whimpered. They were so beautiful like that, their massive bodies held so much power. They looked to be made for violence, but were here choosing pleasure instead, for her. Aimon’s black eyes held Manon’s as he spoke into the other man’s ear, “Be a good boy and don’t come until our sweet girl is finished.” Bastien's face was tight and his eyes closed, but he nodded in agreement. “You better get to drawing, I don’t know how long this one can wait.” He ran the claws of his free hand up Bastien’s thigh.

Aimon continued to touch Bastien, just enough to keep him on edge, while Manon tried her best to let her work consume her and ignore the desperate throbbing between her legs. She drew the two men in long strokes of her charcoal. Despite the raw power of their bodies, the charcoal captured a gentle sensuality in the way they moved against one another. She pressed it to the page to capture the curve of Bastien’s thigh, the jut of Aimon’s chin, the curl of their toes. She rubbed her fingers against their likenesses, shading the darkened shadows of their bodies. After what could have been 15 minutes or two hours, Manon set down her drawing tools. Sweat trickled between her breasts and wetness pooled between her thighs. There still were a few things she could have done to perfect her drawing, but her hands were shaking too much to continue.

She inhaled a ragged breath and looked up at the men. Bastien’s hands were balled into tight fists, as he writhed wantonly against Aimon. The other man’s hand was unmoving, wrapped around the base of Bastien’s cock, refusing him the friction he so clearly needed. Aimon’s stoicism was beginning to crack. His chest heaved and his jaw was clenched tight. They needed their release as much as Manon did, and she was ready for them to take it.

“I think I’m finished,” her voice coming out breathier than normal.

“Good,” rasped Aimon. “I don’t know how much more we can take. Will you come over here? Or will you watch us?”

Manon walked towards the bed, Aimon’s gaze locked on hers and pulled her in. She wondered if she looked as Bastien did, helpless but to submit, because under that stare she was. And it felt right. She climbed up onto the bed and kneeled before them.

“I think dear Bastien needs our help,” growled Aimon. He took his free hand and brushed his finger against the tip of the other man’s cock, and then held the finger up to Manon’s lips. A rush of heat coursed through her body. Just as her lips parted to take Aimon’s finger he whispered against Bastien’s ear, “Open your eyes, mon amour. Watch what beautiful Manon is going to do to you.” His eyes blinked open in time to see Manon suck the taste of him off of Aimon. His finger was thick and long but she sucked it into her mouth as far as it would go, moaning at the salty taste on her tongue.

A hiss of breath left Bastien. Was she going to do this to his cock next? The thought made her mouth water. Aimon pulled his finger from her mouth and gently cupped the base of her neck to guide her down to Bastien’s length. She braced her hands on his hips and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. Then she heard Aimon’s commanding voice. “Spit, Manon. Make him nice and wet for you.” She did it without question, even though a tiny voice in the back of her head told her she should be horrified and embarrassed to see her saliva running down the veiny side of Bastien’s cock. She did it once more for good measure, then she parted her lips and took him into her mouth.

He was thick and wide, her lips straining to take him all. Finally her lips just brushed against the top of Aimon’s hand that was still wrapped around the base, and the tip of Bastien’s cock bumped against the entrance to her throat. She took a moment to revel in the feel of being so close to the two of them, then she began to move. She thrust him in and out of her, savoring the sounds that came out of the man underneath her.

Aimon’s hand left her hair and brushed against her cheek. “Mmmm, good girl.” His words sent hot pleasure through her. Manon had always loved to be praised. His hand traveled down her neck to the front of her tunic. He yanked the wide collar down, baring her breasts. Now it was Aimon’s turn to moan. He fondled one breast, then the other, as if learning her. She wanted more. She wanted all of them. All day she had watched the two of them loving and touching each other and finally Manon got to be a part of it–and she never wanted it to end. She sucked Bastien hard and let her hand wander to cup his testicles, rolling them in her palm. Bastien let out a strangled sound.

“Look at her taking you, baby,” said Aimon. “Look at how gorgeous she looks, swallowing down your cock. Do you want to come all over her beautiful breasts?” Bastien groaned. “Tell me baby. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Manon felt herself arch at his words. She knew she must look wretched and wanton, and it made her feel alive. For the first time since their encounter had begun, Bastien spoke. His voice was thick and gravely with arousal, “Yes. Please. Let me come on her.” Manon looked up at Bastien. His pupils were completely blown, the soft amber of his eyes barely visible at all. She held his gaze and moved up on his cock, and down again. The next time she moved up, Aimon’s hand followed her.

“Let him go, Manon,” he commanded. Hesitantly she obeyed, lifting her mouth from Bastien’s length. She pressed her breasts out for him, for them. And watched as Bastien’s orgasm overtook him as Aimon continued to fuck him with his hand.

“Say her name when you come.”

Bastien gasped, “Fuck. Yes!” His spend lashed across her chest. “Manon.”

His release was hot on her body. Manon was so overwhelmingly aroused all she could do for several moments was sit there breathing. Aimon ran his hands along Bastien’s sides, his touches so tender and loving. When Manon finally came back to herself she decided she needed to be a part of this bit too. She ran her fingers through the thick fur that covered his thighs. She still ached for release, but the idea of curling up in these men was good too. Aimon reached forward and grabbed the hem of her tunic, pulling it off of her–apparently they weren’t finished yet. But then he balled up the fabric and used it to wipe Bastien’s release from her chest. Then, he grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of the two of them.

Aimon left one arm curled around Bastien, and curled the other around her. His hand brushed her shoulder and played with the ends of her hair. Bastien kept his eyes shut as he burrowed into the nape of Manon’s neck, and pressed a kiss to her skin. She wasn’t going to get emotional. She wasn’t. It didn’t matter that while Manon had had plenty of sex, it seemed that for so long she had been starved for intimacy. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t remember the last time she had been held so gently, the last time she had felt truly cared for.

Bastien’s claws running gently up her leg stole her attention, and saved her from getting too lost in her emotions. “Aimon, you’ve been so busy taking care of me, we’ve left poor Manon feeling neglected.”

Manon shook her head in protest. She was feeling anything but neglected for the first time in her four and twenty years.

“Mmmm.” She felt Aimon’s chest vibrate against her cheek. “Do you think she’s wet and swollen for us?” Aimon’s hand moved to her breast. He drew a gentle circle around her nipple with his claw. “Maybe you should find out.”

The two of them talking about her arousal so openly in front of her was erotic. Her whole body tensed as she waited for him to touch her, but instead of reaching for her, Bastien lifted his hand above her head to Aimon’s mouth. Aimon bit the claws off of Bastien’s thumb, middle, and ring fingers. The breath left her lungs in a rush. Aimon chuckled at the sound. “I bet you our sweet girl is soaked.”

Bastien’s hand moved between her thighs. He ran his fingers through the coarse hair there before parting her. Cool air lapped at her sex, but then Bastien’s fingers were sliding between her folds. He pushed into her entrance just the tiniest bit, but no more. Her hips thrust on their own accord, but Bastien pulled his hands away. She whimpered.

“Don’t worry baby,” said Bastien, kissing her cheek. “We’ll make you feel good soon.” He brought his hands back up to Aimon’s lips. The man’s black eyes met hers as he sucked Bastien’s fingers into his mouth. His eyes slid shut on a growl.

“Fuck. She’s delicious.”

She felt Aimon shift to sit up, so she moved off of him, as did Bastien. Before she could ask what was next, Bastien captured her lips. His kiss was deep. His tongue brushed along hers again and again, until she was dizzy with him. When he pulled away his eyes glittered. “I’ve been dying to do that.”

Manon smiled, too aroused and overwhelmed to speak. Aimon cupped her cheek and forced her to look up at him. “Do you still want this, beautiful?” She nodded. “Then lie back and let us take care of you.”

The two men stood up, and she did as he asked, lying naked and sprawled before them like a feast waiting to be devoured. Aimon started towards her but Bastien caught him from behind. He slid his hands underneath the front of the other man’s tunic and pulled it off of him, revealing muscled dark grey skin and fur. Like Bastien, his chest and abdomen had less hair than the rest of his body, except for the thick trail leading from his belly button to the top of trousers. Manon licked her lips.

Bastien looked at her and chuckled. “I know.” He ran a hand down Aimon’s chest and cupped his cock over the wool fabric. Aimon let out a hiss and let his head fall back on Bastien’s shoulder. “He’s mouthwatering.” Bastien unfastened Aimon’s trousers and let them fall to the floor. Bastien was right–he was absolutely divine.

The two men stalked towards Manon. She forced her gaze up from Aimon’s thick cock to meet their gazes. A shiver of fear ran up her spine. She knew in her heart they wouldn’t hurt her, but there was no denying the sharp look in both sets of eyes. Hungry. Predatory. Aimon’s black tongue slid across his lower lip to the tip of one of his fangs. Manon’s entire body shuddered.

“How should we take care of lovely Manon?” Bastien asked. His gaze roamed hungerly up and down her body.

Aimon’s grin became wicked. “There are many things I’d like to do to her.” He gently ran his claws up her calves and grasped her knees. He pushed them to the sides, her legs falling open, baring her most secret places to them. Bastien groaned, and pumped his semi hard cock.

“Don’t you think she looks good enough to eat?” growled Aimon.

Bastien reached out a hand, spread her sex, and licked his lips. “To die for.”

“We’re going to lick you, sweet Manon. Until you come all over our mouths.”

“What do you say?” Bastien gently teased her entrance. “Can we taste you, beautiful girl?”

She nodded, words failing her.

“Good,” replied Aimon.

Bastien knelt on the bed between her knees, but instead of bending forward to lick her, he wrapped his hands around her waist and flipped her onto her side. He laid down so he was facing the apex of her thighs, and lifted her leg over his shoulder. His mouth hovered just above her clitoris. He blew out a breath and it sent shivers of pleasure down to her toes. And then, she watched him lick her from her entrance to her clit. She let out a half laugh, half moan.

“Is something funny dear Manon?” He licked her again.

“No– I– gods– it’s just that your tongue– it’s so long. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Bastien looked up at her, his eyes gleaming wickedly. “All the better to fuck you with.” He lowered his mouth and thrust his tongue up into her core, pressing it against the sensitive spot inside of her. Her back bowed and she felt herself clench around him.

“Fuck Bastien,” she gasped.

He slowly pulled out of her, and ran his tongue up one side of her sex, to her tight bundle of nerves, sucking her there. His mouth was magnificent. She wanted to thrust against his face. It was perfect but she needed more. She let out a whimper and a deep chuckle sounded from behind her.

“Don’t worry, ma belle.” She felt Aimon’s hands on her ass, his claws biting into her flesh. “We’re going to take care of you.” Then he spread her wide.

The first touch of his tongue made her gasp and her whole body shudder. She had never been touched there before, let alone licked. He did it again and her whole body lit up with pleasure.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.” She felt Aimon’s hum of satisfaction radiate through her. Then, they were both licking her. Circling her. She let out a gasp when Aimon’s tongue finally pressed into her ass. There was nothing else in the world but their hungry mouths on her. Her hips rocked against them, pressing them in and out of her, around her, as they fucked her with their tongues again and again. And again. Before long, the pleasure built until there was nowhere for it to go and she had to cry out as it burst inside of her. She screamed out until there was nothing left. Until she was only light and heat.

She laid like that. Unmoving. Delighting in the sweet kisses Bastien and Aimon peppered along her thighs and belly. She only looked up once they stopped. They were kissing each other. It wasn’t like the tender kisses she had seen them exchange before. This was ravenous. All consuming. They kissed, and licked, and bit, and Manon was becoming aroused all over again. Finally, the men broke apart on a gasp, their chests heaving and their lips swollen.

Bastien turned to Manon and grinned. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes.” Her voice was raspy, but loud and confident. She felt bold. “What did you have in mind?”

“So many things. We have our fingers, our mouths, our cocks.” His eyes fell to her cunt, and he licked his lips.

This was the first time that Manon had had sex with two people at the same time. But the way that they had licked her had her thinking, and before she let herself feel embarrassed she said exactly what was on her mind. “Could you fill me with your cocks, like you did with your tongues?”

Aimon groaned and let his head fall back against her thigh.

“Only if you want all of Aimon’s wildest dreams to come true.”

Manon let out a giggle. “Only Aimon’s?”

Bastien met her eyes. “No, not only his.” He stood and went to the bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a small clear jar of something liquid and oily looking. She must have been giving him a questioning look, because he explained, “This will make it easier.” Manon nodded. He set the jar down and kissed her cheek. “We’ll make you feel good, I promise. Just tell us what you’re feeling okay?”

“Okay.”

Aimon got up and laid down at the head of the bed. His cock was like steel against his belly. “Come here,” he growled. She sat up and crawled over to him. “Are you wet enough for me, baby?”

Before she could respond, she felt Bastien behind her. He snaked his hand down between her breasts to her sex, and pushed a finger inside of her. His chuckle rumbled in her ear. “She’s soaked.”

Aimon’s eyes flashed with arousal. “Good.”

Manon placed both her hands on Aimon’s shoulders. She was so ready to be filled by him—by the two of them. She and Aimon watched as Bastien grasped the other man’s cock, and guided it to her entrance. She let herself begin to sink down on him, delighting in the way that he stretched her. “That’s it,” rasped Bastien in her ear. “Relax, beautiful. Take him all.” She nodded and looked down to watch his thick length disappear inside of her. “How does she feel, Aimon?”

Aimon let out a choked laugh. “Good. So good I don’t– I can’t–” He thrust his hips up filling her all of the way. He shook his head. “There are no words.”

Before Manon could register what she was doing, she was thrusting against him. Meeting his body and grinding hers against him. “Fuck. Yes. Yes.” She panted.

But then Bastien was stopping them. Why was he stopping them? He chuckled. “Not without me you don’t.” He kissed her shoulder. “Bend forward, love. And tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.” She bent forward until her ass was in the air, and her face was right in front of Aimon’s.

“Hi,” he sounded groggy, drunk with lust.

“Hi,” she smiled back at him.

“I’m happy you’re here.”

She was struck with the vulnerability in his voice. This striking, complicated man who had been wary of her not long ago was happy to be with her. “Me too,” she answered.

She felt Bastien’s fingers between her cheeks. “I’m gonna stretch you now, baby,” he said. “Relax for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she responded.

“Hey,” whispered Aimon.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me?”

She grinned, and so did he, making the first brush of their lips messy, too full of teeth. They both laughed into one another. But then they were really kissing, and his tongue was brushing against hers as their lips moved.

Bastien’s fingers pressed into her. The stretch felt intoxicating and strange, stronger and more forceful than Aimon’s tongue. She loved the newness of it. She moaned into Aimon’s mouth and he swallowed the sound down with a growl.

“Fuck Bastien,” said Aimon, “Keep doing whatever you’re doing baby. She’s loving it.”

Bastien chuckled, “How can you tell?”

“Because I can feel her clenching around my cock.”

Bastien groaned and pushed another finger inside her. Forcing her open, thrusting into her.

“That’s it, beautiful. Gods, I can’t wait to be inside of you,” said Bastien.

She whimpered. Yes. That’s what she wanted. What she craved. She needed them both. Pulling away from Aimon’s mouth she rasped, “Yes. Please, Bastien. Inside of me.”

“Okay. You’ll tell me if I–”

“Yes! Bastien. Please.”

Finally his shaft was there, at her entrance. He pushed into her, his breath catching. He paused for a moment and she thought he must be finished, that she must have taken all of him. But then, he kept going. Filling her and filling her until she could comprehend nothing put the places where their bodies invaded her own.

“Baby,” he moaned.

“How does it feel, Bas?” asked Aimon.

“I–”

She felt his entire body shudder against her back.

Aimon barked out a laugh. “See, my love. It’s not so easy to be poetic when you’re in heaven.”

Bastien growled, sounding uncharacteristically fierce. “Sit up and I’ll show you how poetic I can be.”

Aimon smirked, but did as he was told, which Manon thought was probably a rarity. Now they were all upright and the angle made them both press even deeper inside of her.

“Still okay, beautiful?” asked Aimon.

“Yes. More than okay.”

“Good.”

Bastien wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her up, then pushed her back down on their lengths.

Aimon moaned and Bastien chuckled. “That’s right, baby.” He leaned over Manon’s shoulder and kissed Aimon on the lips. “That’s what I thought.”

Aimon let out a pained laugh. “Yes, you’ve proven your point. Now let’s fuck before I expire.”

“Please.” Manon’s voice came out far more needy than she was intending it to.

“We’ve got you baby,” said Aimon. He wrapped his hands around her waist as well, and the two of them began to work her up and down their cocks.

There was nothing like it. The press of their hot bodies against her own. Moving and writhing beneath, around her, inside her. She took them into her body over and over again. With each thrust she climbed higher and higher. The sounds that came out of her were deep and guttural, and she didn’t care. They fucked her and stretched her, until she wasn’t just herself anymore. Together they were something else entirely. They were pleasure embodied, brought to life. She only existed to be filled, and they only existed to fill her.

She didn’t know how long they made love for. But her body began to scream for release while simultaneously never wanting to stop. Bastien was gasping in her ear. “I– I can’t wait any longer. I have to–” he came on a strangled moan. The sound of his ecstasy, and the quaking of his body against hers was too much for Manon to handle.

“I need to come. Please,” she begged, not knowing exactly for what. Bastien pulled out of her, and for a moment she ached so intensely with the loss of him. But then Aimon lay back, putting space between them. He reached for where their two bodies met and pressed his thumb to her clitoris. Bastien lay down next to him. Seemingly content to watch her fuck the man he loved.

“Take what you need, beautiful girl,” said Aimon. His eyes were hooded, and his face slack with pleasure.

Yes, she thought. For once she would take exactly what she needed. She thrust against him. Rolling her hips, circling them, so the most sensitive parts of her ground into him. She felt herself begin to shudder around the length of him.

“That’s it, ma belle. Fuck me, Manon. Just like that. ”

She was coming. Pleasure radiated through her, poured out of her. She held her eyes open as long as she could because Aimon had followed her over the edge, and he was glorious. His once stern expression transformed by joy and rapture. His back bowed and his mouth opened on a silent shout, and she was helpless but to throw her head back and join him.

When Manon finally came back down, her cheek was pressed against Aimon’s chest, and Bastien’s breath was tickling her forehead. Several arms were wrapped tightly around her. Whisky, and pine, and flowers, and sweat, and sex filled the air. Aimon’s chest rumbled under her ear as he let out a hum of contentment. Not for the first time, Manon wished she truly did have powers, because she wanted to freeze time and just live in that exact moment.

But she didn’t have powers, and soon the moment would pass. And what then? At the thought her stomach sank, because this day had been one of the best of her life, and what if this was it? She could tell that Aimon and Bastien had enjoyed themselves. And she was already drowning in feelings for the two of them. But they already had one another. She had no idea how long they had known each other, but surely it was a long time. And they were supposed to what? Accept her into their lives after one day? She didn’t even know if one could have a relationship with more than two people in it. Manon took a breath and tried to calm her mind. She wanted to enjoy this moment, even if it was fleeting. But her next exhale was ragged, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek and fall onto Aimon’s chest.

“Manon,” said Aimon, running a hand through her hair. “What’s wrong?”

She felt Bastien’s arm tighten around her. “Did we hurt you?”

She shook her head, willing the tears to stop falling. “No. Not at all. I’m fine.” But even to her own ears she didn’t sound fine. She sounded rather pathetic. “Just overwhelmed is all.”

Bastien kissed her forehead. “Can you tell us about it?”

“I–” she wasn’t sure what to say. I know we’ve only just met but I was wondering if you’d keep me? Thanks for saving me, I was wondering if I could stay forever?

Thankfully, Aimon spoke, saving her from saying something ill-advised. “You’ve been through a lot, Manon. It’s okay–to feel whatever you’re feeling.”

“He’s right, love. I like to think of myself as the emotionally intelligent one, but alas dear Aimon can be quite wise on occasion,” added Bastien. The other man chuckled, and a smile played at Manon’s lips. “That’s it, darling,” he continued, pressing a kiss to one of the upturned corners of her mouth.

“I think we need some tea,” declared Aimon.

“That sounds perfect,” agreed Bastien. “I’ll go get us some.”

“I’ll come and help you,” said Aimon.

“No. That’s okay, I–”

“I will come and help you, Bastien.”

Oh. They were going to talk about her. She felt her whole body tense. What were they going to say?Were they going to ask her to leave? Would they ask her to stay?

“Manon,” said Aimon. “You’re going to give yourself a muscle cramp with all of that tension.” He squeezed her. “I won’t lie to you. Bastien and I do need to talk, because clearly the three of us need to have a serious conversation. But Bastien and I have made a commitment to one another, and we need to make sure we’re on the same page first. I promise we won’t send you back out into danger.”

“No one will hurt you from now on, beautiful,” agreed Bastien. He sat up, and so Manon followed suit.

She nodded. “Okay. Um–” Manon looked down at herself. She was sweaty and sticky, and her thighs were covered in the evidence of what they had just done. “Could I clean up? While you talk?” If she was going to receive bad news she didn’t want to do it like this.

“Of course. We can warm some water for a bath while we make our tea, or there’s room temperature water in the kitchen you can bring to the outhouse if you don’t want to wait.”

“Yes! That’s just fine.”

“Okay, one of us will carry you since your feet–” began Bastien.

“No!” She leapt up, trying not to wince when her feet made contact with the floor. They needed to talk and she understood why, but Manon needed space to prepare herself for the worst. She threw on one of their tunics that was lying on the floor and rushed out of the room.

The sound of their footsteps was close behind her, but she didn’t dare turn around. She was keeping it together. She would keep it together. No matter what they said she would be fine. Witch or not, she was strong and powerful, and she would survive. Maybe one day, she would find something like what Aimon and Bastien had with someone else. She found a pitcher of water on the kitchen counter and grabbed a cloth. She shoved on her boots, even though they were still water-logged.

“Manon!” Bastien called out as she reached for the door. “Let us get you something warmer to wear.”

She shook her head. She needed space, and she needed it now. “It’s fine. I’m not cold.” A blatant lie.

The air was so frigid outside it took her breath away. But that was good. Let her think about the cold rather than what they were discussing. They said they wouldn’t send her back out into danger, and that would have to be enough.

She took care of her business quickly when she reached the outhouse, and then wet the cloth, wiping her body clean of Aimon and Bastien. The water was so cold it almost hurt. Good, she thought.

Once she was finished, Manon just stood there, shivering and breathing. She wasn’t ready to go inside yet, afraid she would walk into the middle of a conversation about how they didn’t quite like her enough to keep her. So she watched her breath leave her mouth in puffs of white, and remembered that even if she never had another day like today, life would go on. No matter what they said, there would still be good things in store for her.

She yelped with surprise when a knock sounded at the door.

“Manon?” Bastien’s voice called from outside. “If you’ve finished, we'd love for you to come inside. We’re worried you're going to catch a cold out here.”

This was it. She steeled her spine, held her chin high, and opened the door. Both men were waiting for her, fully clothed and holding blankets and a steaming cup of tea. They were so beautiful, a shock of pain burst through her.

“Manon,” Aimon’s voice was laced with emotion. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and picked her up.

“I can walk!”

“Please.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Let us take care of you.”

“Okay,” she acquiesced.

They took her inside and settled her onto one of the couches between the two of them.

“So, I guess you have something to tell me?” She let out a hollow laugh. She would be okay no matter what they said. She would.

“Stay,” blurted out Bastien.

The air whooshed from her lungs as she turned to look at him. His amber eyes danced with emotion. She couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out and cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned his face into her palm.

Aimon’s laugh was deep and booming. “What our dear Bastien means is that, we know this has all happened very quickly. We’ve only just met, and you are in a precarious situation that we do not want to take advantage of. If you would prefer, we have many friends in these woods that could take you in. Help you start over. However, Bastien and I both agree that today felt special. Like it could be the start of something good. So if you want to stay, we would love to give this a try.”

“And is this– I mean, you two are already together. I just– can three people be–” She shut her eyes. Why did she even need to ask? Why couldn’t she just say yes and they could figure out the rest later?

“Manon,” said Bastien. “Here we get to be anything we want. Whatever makes us happy,” he cleared his throat. “If you think the three of us might make one another happy, we’d like you to stay.”

“Yes!” She shouted, needing no time for deliberation. She knew in her bones that this was right.

Both Aimon and Bastien let out an audible sigh of relief. A laugh escaped Manon’s lips, as elation raced through her, and the weight she had been carrying since they finished making love lifted from her shoulders. The men joined her, probably laughing too at the wonderful absurdity of the past day. Each chuckle, and cackle, and belly laugh that filled the room shed light into another corner of Manon’s body where darkness had once been. And maybe she was a little magic, because for a moment she could see her future laid out before her, a lifetime full of joy and beauty and love.