by Parker Grey
“It’s very rare, and frankly, it’s very strange, which is why no one thought to test for it sooner,” she says. “There are simply thousands and thousands of poisons, and so testing always takes time, meaning that—”
“What was it?” her mother says, her face white.
“Right. Yes, of course,” the nurse goes on, looking down. “A neurotoxin from the Amazonian Bread Beetle. Normally, it kills someone by causing their lungs to slowly stop working so they simply can’t breathe.”
I crack a knuckle, holding my own breath.
“But,” the nurse goes on. “In exactly the right dose, it can dramatically slow breathing and heartrate, giving the victim a near-dead appearance that can last for hours, days, weeks, or...”
She shrugs.
“No one is really sure, because it’s incredibly hard to get, so there simply isn’t much information.”
“Will she wake up?” her father rumbles, his wife still squeezing his arm.
The nurse smiles.
“Luckily, the antidote is simple, and we’ve already given it to her. She should be awake within the hour. She’s already stirring.”
We wait outside Bianca’s door, anxious. Her parents are inside, her mother crying, and I can just barely hear Bianca’s voice over the noise.
Finally, her father comes to the door, calls us in. Bianca’s propped up on pillows, tubes sticking out from both her arms, but she smiles at us despite the huge circles under both eyes.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Beckett says, taking one hand.
I take the other and simply kiss the back.
“Hi,” Bianca whispers.
Behind us, her parents step quietly from the room.
After that, everything happens quickly. Bianca still has to undergo a thousand more tests, scans, MRIs, the whole deal, but it’s all downhill. There’s no lasting brain damage, and it’s decided that the safest place for her is my family’s stronghold.
I have workers rip out anything that connects to the internet, then configure all the power to be run from a generator. I don’t want anything in her wing to be connected to the grid. I’m not taking chances again, because it’s our fault that this happened to her.
We should have never taken her into Inversberg. We should never have let our guard down like that, should never have been so careless.
Bianca’s moved in absolutely secrecy, at three o’clock in the morning. She’s fine, though still a little weak, the effects of the poison finally draining from her system.
She’s got her own suite in the castle, her own everything, and Beckett and I can stay right next door. I haven’t talked to her parents at all, but I get the distinct sense that they know something is going on, but they haven’t said anything, and neither have I.
For days, the two of us wait on her hand and foot, even when she tells us not to. We insist on bringing her anything she needs ourselves, plumping her pillows, getting her more tea, rearranging her footrest. But she gets stronger day by day, and before long, that wicked look is back in her eyes.
The look that says, I remember the hot tub.
I force myself to ignore it. She needs to really be better, be fully recovered before we can do that again, no matter how badly I ache for her.
So I settle for jerking off twice a day in the shower, imagining fucking Bianca deep, her pussy clenching around me as Beckett slides his cock down her throat.
I imagine the way she moans, the way her body moves like she’s hungry for me.
I imagine pushing my cock into the tight bud of her back hole, how she’d gasp and pant for breath. I think of the way she’d scream when she came that way.
And of course, of course, I think of Beckett joining me. I think of us taking her together, the way she begged us to. I think of Bianca flooded with so much pleasure that she can’t talk, can barely move.
And then I come into the shower drain, and I do it again a few hours later, because all the jerking off in the world isn’t a substitute for her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Beckett
A week goes by, then two. Bianca recovers in Kieran’s castle, and though being near her without doing anything taps every last strength reserve I’ve got, the doctors said she needed to take it easy.
And even though she looks at us as wickedly as ever, even though I know she still wants us, I resist. It’s not worth hurting her over.
One day we’re all at dinner when one of Kieran’s palace guards comes up to him and asks him sotto voce if the castle has a top-secret secure location.
Kieran just looks at the man like he’s insane.
“It’s a fortress,” he says. “Of course it does.”
We don’t even eat dessert, just go down to the basement, then the sub-basement. Kieran turns a lion sculpture the right way and reveals a hidden room, talks very seriously with his security men. Inside is a beautiful, oval wood table with high-backed chairs all around it, and we sit.
I’m watching Bianca nervously the whole time, wondering if she’s under attack. Wondering if we’re all going to be under attack, if there’s some kind of robot swarm heading our way.
Minutes after we sit, a straight-backed, suited man comes in and stands at the head of the table.
“I’m General Tsukor of the Voravian military,” he begins.
My back is ramrod straight.
“And I’m here to update you on the threat to the princess’s life.”
He opens a manila folder, taking out a small stack of handouts. I wonder why he’s not using the projector at the front of the room, but then I realize that anything with a wireless signal — anything that connects to the outside world — is a threat.
“On the first page you’ll see a schematic of how the initial broadcast threatening the princess went out. The second page involves the Inversberg grocers, the third the mechanics of the incredibly poisonous Amazonian Bread Beetle, and the fifth is what we can tell you about the ongoing plan to capture the remaining at-large members of this terrorist hacker cell,” he says.
No one seems to have any questions, so the General dives right in.
The explanations are long, technical, and they lose me a couple of times. All right, they lose me more than a couple of times, when I can’t tell if what he’s saying are acronyms or words, but the jist of it is this:
Hacking into the television signal wasn’t that hard, especially since it’s all done via digital internet signals anyway, the heyday of actual airwaves being long past. They cloaked themselves more than well enough, and were impossible to find.
They found Bianca again because she came into town. It seems this group hacked into millions of cameras — closed circuit cameras, stoplight cameras, security cameras, you name it — and had facial recognition software running, making it easy enough to find her if she so much as went somewhere with security.
Shit, I think, staring at the handout. I had no idea that was possible.
I don’t feel inadequate often, but I do right now.
Once they knew where she was and who she was with, it was a matter of guessing that we were at the hunting cabin, getting into Andersen’s ordering system, and making a fake order to be delivered to us. Why they chose the Bread Beetle is beyond anyone’s guess, though.
The delivery boy had nothing to do with it. The grocery store had nothing to do with it. They were just pawns in this stupid, fucked up game that I still don’t understand.
Voravian intelligence, working with Interpol, has caught most of the ringleaders and they’re on the trail of the others, though of course they don’t say too much about it.
“And that’s about it,” the General says, snapping his folder closed. “Any questions?”
“Why Bianca?” Kieran asks, his voice loud in the small room.
The General rubs his hands together, and he looks like he’s about to say something, then stops himself.
“We’re not sure,” he finally tells us.
Kieran’s eyes narrow, his
mouth making a hard line.
“You were about to say something.”
“I’d rather not.”
“You have an idea, though.”
“It’s unconfirmed, I’m afraid.”
“But there’s something.”
The General looks down at his papers, running his fingers over the folder before looking up at us.
“Tell us,” Kieran demands. “Tell her.”
He doesn’t want to. That much is clear, but he stands a little straighter.
“It will come off as quite childish, but I assure you, it’s the best motive we could find. We’re still searching for another, but so far, nothing has surfaced.”
“What is it?” Bianca asks, speaking up for the first time.
He swallows.
“Jealousy, Your Highness,” he says.
We all frown simultaneously.
“Of me?” Bianca says, sounding baffled.
“In our investigation we found an enlightening discussion that took place on a private, encrypted message board,” he goes on, obviously uncomfortable. “It seems that one of the masterminds had commented on Princess Bianca’s physical charms in front of his girlfriend, and she was quite upset by this. He was already part of a radical anti-monarchy group, of course, but it seems that one thing led to another, and to prove to his girlfriend that he thought quite highly of her, he... orchestrated this.”
The room goes completely, totally silent. You could hear an ant fart, it’s so quiet.
“You’re kidding,” Bianca finally says.
He clears his throat.
“I’m afraid not,” he says. “And we’re quite certain there are other factors at play, of course, but so far, this is the best lead we’ve got.”
Silence again.
“I ought to be going if there are no further questions,” the General says. “I’m glad you’re doing well and best wishes, Your Highness, Lords.”
We all murmur goodbyes, but then lapse into silence again after he leaves.
It takes a while, but Bianca finally speaks up.
“That’s just silly,” she says, staring at the table. “Who would...? I mean, just...?”
I stand, holding out a hand to her.
“Come on,” I say gently. “Let’s go to bed, maybe it’ll make sense in the morning.”
We leave the super-secret sub-basement and ascend back to the upper floor of the palace. Bianca doesn’t let go of my hand the whole time, Kieran close behind us.
We haven’t bothered keeping our relationship a secret. Not that we’ve exactly broadcast it to the world, either, but it’s no secret. The guards know, the people at the palace know, half of Griskold knows. And it doesn’t matter.
No. She’s what matters.
At the door to her suite, Bianca turns to us, lips red as ever, skin pale, hair dark, eyes blue. She bites her lip, looking from me to Kieran and back.
“Come read me a bedtime story?” she asks, her smile and voice bordering on wicked.
Kieran sucks in a breath, and I swallow hard.
“What kind of story?” I ask.
“One about two princes and one princess,” she says, looking up at me, her voice dropping to a purr. “I want to hear all about their happy ending.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bianca
The words are barely out of my mouth when Beckett scoops me up and carries me to the bed. It’s been nearly two weeks since we’ve done anything, because I’ve been recuperating, but all three of us know that today the doctors cleared me again for strenuous activities.
And I know exactly what strenuous activity I’d like to participate in.
Beckett tosses me onto the bed, so hard I bounce, breathless, my skirt already coming up. Both of them follow me onto the huge, plush surface, and before I can even come up on my elbows they’re on either side of me.
Beckett grabs my face, kissing me roughly. His tongue plunders my mouth, and he lets out a long, low groan as he does, his cock against my hip already rock-hard, straining against his zipper.
“I don’t think I can go slow tonight,” he growls, thumb tracing my lip.
“Then don’t,” I say, my voice half-whisper, half-moan as I suck his thumb into my mouth.
On my other side Kieran pushes his hand up my thigh, pushing my skirt over my hips. In one motion he takes my panties in his fist, tugging them tight against me, and turns my face toward him, Beckett’s thumb trailing from my mouth.
My body’s already rigid with desire, my thighs clamped around Kieran’s fist, his knuckles against my clit and pussy. I grind against him, mouth open, moaning.
“You’ve fantasized long and hard about what we’re going to do tonight, haven’t you?” he says, his voice low and rough.
He tightens his fist on my panties, pushing his knuckles against my bare heat. They’re already slippery with my juices, my breathing coming faster and faster.
“What are you going to do?” I ask, even though I think I know.
Kieran kisses me hard, pressing his mouth against mine. I’m helpless against my desire for him, for them, and I can only whimper as Beckett practically rips my blouse off and shoves my bra out of the way, both of my breasts in his hands.
God, it feels so good to be shared.
“We’re going to fuck you together like you’ve been begging us to do,” Kieran whispers, his hand unfurling from my panties.
His fingers slide around my clit, and my hips buck, rolling against him as his words rock through me.
Both of them. Together. God, I’ve barely thought about anything else for two weeks. Just seeing them around the palace makes me impossibly wet, so aroused that I’m forever slipping into bathrooms just so I can get myself off for some release.
“He’s going to fuck your sweet, wet little pussy,” Kieran murmurs.
He slides three fingers into my slippery, needy entrance, and I move my hips up to meet him, a little moan escaping me.
“And I’m finally going to claim your ass,” he finishes.
Deftly, he moves one finger from my pussy downward, circling it slickly around my puckered back hole, sending a shiver through my whole body.
I think of Beckett, bending me over in the hot tub, stretching and spreading me.
I remember how hard I came, how it felt totally unlike anything else I’d ever done.
“Yes,” I whisper, just as Beckett bites a nipple, making my back arch. “Yes!”
Beckett just chuckles and hooks his thumbs under my skirt. In seconds I’m unzipped, my skirt and panties on the floor as he rolls me toward him.
I hear Kieran getting undressed, and then he’s pressed against me, his thick cock against my lower back.
I don’t wait. I can’t wait any longer. Beckett kisses me hard and deep, still caressing my nipples, as I sling one knee over him, reaching back for Kieran’s cock. It’s hard as steel in my hand, somehow even bigger than I remember, and I arch, guiding him to my entrance.
He fucks me deep with one hard stroke, driving himself balls-deep just as Beckett kisses me again. I nearly shout into his mouth as every nerve ending in my body lights up, like I’ve just been plugged in for the first time.
Beckett just laughs, trailing his hand down my torso until it’s between my legs. He starts rubbing my clit and Kieran starts fucking me, slow and deep, my hand clawing at his thigh.
“You know what my two favorite things are?” he asks.
I can’t even answer. I can barely look at him, my eyes constantly threatening to roll backward into my head with the perfect, pure sensations.
“My second favorite is watching Kieran fuck you,” he says, his fingers tightening on my clit.
Kieran drives himself home again with a long, low groan.
“Oh God,” I whimper, eyelids fluttering. Beckett’s fingers move faster, bringing me toward the edge.
“I couldn’t stand for anyone else to do it,” he goes on. “But getting to watch you turn from a sweet, demure, perfect princ
ess into a dirty girl, stuffed with cock and begging for more? Fucking delectable, Bianca.”
I’m about to come, between Beckett’s fingers and Kieran’s cock. I’ve held out for as long as I can, but between the two of them, I’m nearly powerless.
“My very favorite is fucking you myself, though,” he goes on. “I love fucking your pussy, your mouth, your ass. There’s nothing like being inside you, Princess.”
Beckett pinches my clit gently between two fingers just as Kieran thrusts into me as hard as he can, his cock hitting that spot so perfectly, and with that, I fall over the edge, grabbing at Beckett’s shirt, clawing at Kieran’s thigh, whimpering and moaning and maybe even shouting.
I feel like I’m a mountain that’s just become a volcano, the heat splitting me apart so that my top flies off, lava running down my sides in rivulets, but they don’t stop. Beckett’s fingers keep moving on my clit, jolting my whole body at once, and Kieran pulls out, hit cock slippery and dripping.
Behind me, he rolls over. A drawer opens, closes, there’s the sound of a bottle being snapped open, and I reach behind myself, grab Kieran’s head just as his slick fingers find my back hole.
One slips in and I bite my lip, close my eyes, arch back. He slips in another, and another, and now I’m desperate, pushing back against him, wanting more.
“That’s right,” he growls into my ear. “Fuck my hand, Princess. Show me what you want.”
I do, as hard as I can, but it’s not enough and Kieran knows it. After a moment he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, biting my ear.
I don’t even hesitate. I can’t. I lock eyes with Beckett as I grab Kieran’s cock, slippery with a combination of lube and my own pussy juices, and guide it to my back hole.
“I love it when you’re dirty for us,” he whispers into my ear.
Then he grabs my hip, holding me still, and slowly pushes himself into me. Beckett’s fingers are still dancing on my clit, rubbing me furiously, and as Kieran’s cock slowly stretches my back hole, opening me up, Beckett kisses me hard.