by K. A Knight
But no, Nan and Worth march into the room, push me to the bed, and get started. Nan works on my hair, though she takes more breaks to drink than I think a hairstylist should. Worth produces a bowl of red and black paint, and then carefully presses it along my face, her own features twisted in concentration.
“What are you doing?” I ask out of immobile lips, my question mumbled.
“What Clay showed me was traditional for a pascha,” she replies distractedly, “when they take the throne. It seemed fitting.”
Clarissa comes into the room and grins at me. “Never fear, mother is here.”
“Corny.” I snort, and she narrows her eyes.
“Shut up and be nice, or I won’t save your ass by saying I found you an amazing garment to wear,” she warns.
Grinning, I mime zipping my lips shut.
“That would be the day,” Worth teases.
I fake gasp and jerk away, placing my hand over my heart. “To think I was going to add you to my list.”
“List?” she asks, wincing as if unsure if she actually wants to know.
“You know, the list, the people I can still fuck.” I shrug.
“Erm, yeah, that’s not a thing, Piper,” she tells me around a laugh.
“It totally is, they just don’t know it yet.” Looking at Clarissa, I smile nicely. “What did you find?”
She pulls a hanger from behind her back, and I suck in a breath, all teasing and laughter leaving me as I stare at it. She steps forward, holding it out delicately. “Your mother never remarried, but she wore this when Abel and her swore their love for each other. I think she would very much want you to wear it.”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears. It’s something my mother would wear, and knowing she did means that much more to me.
“We can Piper it up if you are okay with me altering it a little?” Clarissa suggests nervously. “I will make sure not to change it too much, just enough to make it yours.”
I nod, trusting her, and I blink as I stare at the dress again. It’s white, a bright white which you don’t see anymore. The hem reaches the floor, and it has long sleeves and a square neckline. It’s made of lace, intricate and beautiful. It’s ethereal and stunning, honestly.
Clarissa leaves as Worth and Nan return to my hair and makeup. Worth slowly and delicately paints my face, neck, arms, and nearly my entire body. About an hour or so later, Worth hands me some trousers from her pack. “Here, I had them made for you. I’d love it if you could wear them.”
“You big softie.” I grin as I quickly slip from the ones I’m wearing and into the pair she gave me, pulling on my boots after just as Clarissa returns. I stand, and together they help me dress. Worth attaches something to the left side of the top and eyes it as they step back.
“There, perfect,” Clarissa murmurs. “Take a look.”
I turn to face the mirror, and what I see steals my breath. They did an amazing job, especially Clarissa. She cut some of it away, saving the trimmings, so it’s now a shirt. The sleeves are gone to show my arms, and the neckline is the same, but the dress ends just above my stomach to expose the intricate tribal paintings Worth did. The rest of the dress has been used to make a cape of sorts. It’s similar to what Worth wore at her own wedding, but this one drapes over my right shoulder, opposite of where I wear my weapons, and I know that was done on purpose. It flows down my arm and side, finishing in a waterfall around my knee. On the left shoulder is what I can only describe as a medal. There are three symbols, those of The Nations, The Lost, then The Damned, dangling and shining gold. A general’s medallion.
The trousers Worth gave me cling to my skin, the hand stitched leather comfortable and cupping every inch of me. My usual kick-ass boots have been shined and almost gleam. My entire left arm has been painted in tribal paints, more of Clay’s designs, I’m betting, and they extend up my neck to my face, swirling around it like a person’s touch in shades of reds, blacks, and oranges. My hair is braided to the same side as my cape, with feathers, jewels, and a handmade metal pin with my damned symbol on it worked into the strands. I look…so fucking badass and beautiful. I feel stronger too.
I look like a pascha, a leader, a woman willing to walk this earth with her four men at her side. The woman they all say they see, and now, I finally do too.
“You are a true pasha today,” Worth murmurs as she stands next to me. Clarissa joins us on my left side and smiles.
“You are the perfect mixture of beauty and danger, just like in real life.”
Nan peeks around us and leans next to Worth. “Aye, they will be tearing it off of her later for sure.” I grin, and she softens. “Ya look lovely girlie, ya mam would be proud.”
I tear up before settling down and looking back at the mirror. I reach up to touch the necklace as I smile, noticing them all standing around me. No matter what, Abel is right—I am never alone. My mother might not be here in person, but the rest of my family is.
“I-I never imagined this is where I would end up,” I whisper, meeting their eyes. “I was always so lonely as a child after I lost my family, especially when Evvie pulled away. I was so lost, and now look at me. I have friends, family, lovers. I’m the richest, luckiest person in this world. I am so grateful to have met each and every one of you and call you a friend.” Tears fill my eyes again, and I try not to let them fall and ruin the makeup. “For you to be here today with me, at my side…”
“You will never walk alone,” Clarissa murmurs. “To the edges of this land, to the depths of the sea, we are with you,” she finishes. “It’s a proverb of our people, of our families, of which you belong, Piper. You brought us together, and you’re saving this world. It’s us who are honoured to be at your side.”
“To see you grow, love, learn. To see the incredible leader and woman you’ve become,” Worth adds.
“To know that when the winds take me away from this place, it’s in good hands. Am grateful I gotta see this world as it once was, thanks to you,” Nan says.
“Fuckity fuck,” I mutter, sniffling.
“No crying!” They laugh, and I chuckle as I shake the tears away.
“I feel like we should hug or some shit after that.” I sigh and turn to them. They step back. Right, body paint. No hugging.
“Let’s rock this shit,” I mutter, making them laugh. “Let’s get me hitched to four dicks forever.” I turn to Worth and wink. “Apart from you, of course. The list still stands.”
“All right, time to go.” She chuckles. “Before Archel breaks the door down looking for you.”
I tread confidently to the door, my head held high as I walk down the corridor to the stairs, knowing my men are outside waiting for me.
Standing at the bottom of the staircase is Abel—in a full suit. That’s something I haven’t seen since Paradise. He tugs at it with a grin. “I have had it since I was a boy, it’s a little tight.”
Laughing, I step down next to him. There’s a bark as Beast Jr. hops out from behind him, wagging his tail with his tongue out. Around his neck is a bow, like that around Abel’s.
“It wouldn’t be a wedding without your fur child,” Worth calls as I lean down and kiss him.
“Good boy,” I murmur as he licks my hands. “Let’s go see your daddies.”
Worth, Clarissa, and Nan pass me, all squeezing my shoulder in support. The door stays open, and I hear some soft music. Abel lays my hand on his arm and turns to face the door. “Are you ready?”
I stare at the cliff and smile widely. “Never been more sure of anything in my life,” I state.
He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Good.”
Arm in arm, with Beast Jr. following happily behind us, we step outside, and I see all the hard work everyone has put in. The sun is shining down on the cliff, lighting it up so beautifully, and I can feel my mother’s love in the warmth of the slight breeze. There are makeshift chairs and boxes where everyone sits. Between them is an aisle, and standing just before m
y mother’s bench are my men. Next to them, ready and smiling, is Trev. I gasp and still, and Abel chuckles.
“Nice man. Apparently, when he heard of the ceremony, he insisted on being here to conduct it for you.”
I smile at him gratefully, and he nods in return. In the stands, I see Priest, Jon, Nan, Worth, and Clarissa. I see my friends. I see people I’ve saved, and people I’ve met along my journey in The Wastes. And waiting for me at the end is my future.
My husbands.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, maybe I’ll just call them my bitches instead.
They turn to face me and steal my heart—and yes, vagina—all over again.
Clay stands at the end as the tallest, closest to the cliff. He’s wearing his mask around his throat like the first time I saw him. His hair is braided similarly to mine, and across his neck and chin is a handprint, a red one. He’s shirtless, showing off his muscles and tattoos, and his whole chest and back are covered in tribal ink like me. His legs are encased in some leather trousers, which make him look like a snack, and his feet are bare and digging into the grass.
Next to him stands Archel, who grins widely as he checks me out. He’s wearing all black, of course, and the only pop of colour on his frame is a red handprint across the skin of his chest, which is exposed by his half-unbuttoned shirt. His trousers are skintight, his usual hunting trousers, just fancier. His hair is combed and pushed back, and he’s standing with his hands behind his back, no doubt concealing some form of weapon.
Jago is next, with an open leather jacket, loose cargo trousers, and boots. His chest is exposed to show the red handprint over his lower stomach, towards his pants. His hair is braided like mine, some of the shoulder-length curls falling into his fiery eyes as he smirks at me.
At the end, with a soft look in his eyes and a smile on his pierced lips, is my Evvie. His black hair is tamed and controlled for once, and his tattoos sparkle in the sun, revealed by his traditional, sleeveless black shirt from Paradise. I don’t even know where he managed to find it. It’s from ceremonies we used to perform down there that we watched as kids. It has a black collar, which is partly sticking up, thick black material, and buttons down the front. He’s also wearing matching pants, and I almost cry at the reminder of our home, knowing he found them just for me—it’s also what my father would have worn. Across his cheek and eye is a red handprint.
That’s when I realise I have a matching red handprint across my chest and heart, and I almost cry at how cute that is.
The music changes to something slower, the cooing words sung by a woman to my left as Abel starts to slowly lead me down the aisle, Beast Jr. trotting behind us. When I reach them, I have to refrain from flinging myself into their arms. I want to make a joke, but for once, I swallow it down and turn to face Trev, who grins at me, standing before my mother’s bench.
Abel kisses my cheek and steps back, and Trev begins as my men spread out next to me. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union between Piper and her men—”
“Piper’s pied dicks,” I mutter softly, and I hear Archel snigger as Trev ignores me and carries on.
I get distracted, my eyes roving hungrily across my men. They just look so fucking good, and by the time I zone in, it’s to Trev prompting me.
“Piper?”
“Huh?” I ask, jerking my head up, and everyone laughs as I grin. “Whoops.”
“Do you take these men in sickness and in health? In death and survival? Do you promise to love them, support them, and fight with them for eternity? Do you pledge your heart to theirs? Do you take them as yours?”
“I do,” I answer without hesitation.
Trev asks every single one of my men separately, and they all say ‘I do’ so strongly and assuredly that my heart explodes.
“Then you may kiss your bride.” I am passed around, kissed, and hugged. When I’m spun back into position, my head is hazy and my lips are bruised, but I’m grinning widely.
“I now pronounce you wife and husbands. May your future be long and fruitful,” Trev finishes and then bows to me. “General.”
Turning, I grin at our audience. “That’s right! We are married!” I whoop. “Time to party!”
The music kicks up a notch, and the ceremony location is rearranged slightly so people can dance and eat all the food Abel and others cooked. I dance and drink. I lounge in my new husbands’ laps—a surreal saying. I let them pamper and tease me as the day goes on. I watch Jago dance with Beast Jr., and I see Clarissa swaying to the melody with the lurking giant.
Above it all, I feel my mother watching me and smiling, and my heart finally fully heals. The sun warms me, the necklace against my chest heating with it, and I know it’s my mother telling me she is here and she is happy.
A little while later, Clay scoops me into his arms, and with a grin, he turns and leaves, ignoring the hollers and hoots of the drunken guests and those celebrating with us. “Clay!” I gasp as he rushes through the house and down the pathway to our bikes.
“Where are we going?” I laugh as I’m thrown onto the back of Archel’s bike, which has ‘Just hitched, bitch,’ scrawled on a sign tied to the back.
“Secret, Princess, you’ll see.” He laughs as he guns it.
I don’t have to wait long. After five minutes of me laughing without a worry in the world, we pull up to our location, and they cut the engine. Jago grabs me from the back and hauls me into his arms, not letting me see much of the outside.
But what I did see stole my breath. It was a cute little one-story cottage, with vines crawling along the stone walls and roof. I don’t even know how they found this place, but I don’t question it as I’m carried inside.
There’s one large room, with a kitchen to the left and a table in the middle. To the right on a raised platform is a huge bed, which looks freshly made and almost too perfect to be true as the sun shines through the window, illuminating it. The window is open, letting in the sound of the waves.
Once inside, Evan turns me and lays me softly down on the bed. I stare up at him as he grins down at me. “Is this the orgy part?” I tease.
“Pip.” He groans as I sit up and reach for him. He holds my hands, and Archel climbs onto the bed, slowly and softly stripping off my cape. I watch him fold it and pack it away in one of our bags so as not to damage it, and I can’t hold back anymore. I turn and dive at him, tackling him to the bed as he laughs. The sound soon turns into a moan as my lips crash into his.
Another pair of lips meet my skin, brushing along my shoulders. More lips graze my hand, and another glides along my leg. There are hands and mouths everywhere, touching everything, until every inch of my skin has been caressed and kissed. I pull away from Archel’s lips, panting, my eyes wide as I stare into his lust filled gaze.
“I want you to scream for us,” he whispers.
“Then make me,” I reply, equally as quiet.
No more words are exchanged as I’m turned and made to sit on my heels as they finish stripping me. Their hands move too quickly for me to see who is where. I pant, my belly quivering, my heart racing, and my pussy aching.
“Who do you want first?” Clay questions as he crouches next to me, cupping my chin and tilting it up so I stare into his eyes. Licking my lips, I catch his finger with my tongue, and he groans, stroking my lips before pushing his thumb into my mouth.
“First?” I mumble around it.
“Tonight, you get all of us, Brawler,” Jago clarifies from somewhere behind me.
“I want her mouth,” Clay states, narrowing his eyes as I suck on his thumb, lapping the salty scarred skin.
“Then I want that beautiful ass she is always teasing me with.” Archel chuckles as he does a sexy as hell sit-up before crawling to me, licking up my leg to my stomach. “And you’ll love every moment, Princess.”
“Fine with me, I’d hurt her anyway. I’ll take that addictive pussy,” Jago growls.
“Erm…there are four cocks,” Evan says
, and I grin as I pop Clay free from my mouth and turn to him.
“Then you can be my last, the way you wish you were my first,” I offer, and his face lights up as a smile curves his lips.
Clay grabs my face as he towers over me, bending down to kiss me hard, rough—a promise. I groan into his mouth as he lies back, taking me with him so I’m on all fours. Only then does he break the kiss and move out from under my body to kneel before me. He unfastens his trousers as I pant, my face flushed with excitement. I’m not the least bit embarrassed, even with my pussy and ass spread and aimed at my other men. No, I feel their hungry gazes, and it’s empowering. I flip my hair over my shoulder and look at them.
“Well?” I prompt. “Going to leave your wife waiting?”
“Never,” Archel promises.
Jago strips and then moves behind me, kissing up my back until his lips meet my ear. “I’m going to let your shadow fuck this tight little cunt and get his dick nice and wet for your little ass, and only when you are almost coming, begging, will I bury my big dick inside you.”
I think I just came from his words alone. My pussy clenches from his dark tone and the hungry promise as Archel chuckles, coming closer as Jago moves away. Evan pulls up a chair and sits back, watching me with a wide grin.
Archel’s teasing hands slide up my pussy, back and forth, in a light caress. “Be a good girl, won’t you, wife?” he purrs before plunging a finger into me. I gasp, clenching around him as I push back. I am so fucking wet from just thinking about what’s to come that my juices drip out of me.
“Princess,” he growls, leaning down and licking my ass cheeks. “I want to taste you, to have my wife’s cream be the last thing I ever taste.”
Dropping my head, I roll my hips as he keeps up that slow pace with his finger, then he adds another and another, stretching me. He maintains that slow burning desire as I feel the warmth of his breath across my pussy, making me whimper. He chuckles, turns his head, and kisses my thigh before kissing my pussy right above my aching, throbbing clit.
“Please,” I beg.
His tongue slides out, flicking my clit in time with his fingers. I fuck myself on them, desperately reaching for my release, but I should have known better. Just as I am about to reach the precipice, he pulls away, his wet fingers gripping my hips.