by Sophie Oak
She wanted to protest. She wasn’t sure this was a thing that could work. She was small and their cocks were so large. She’d only taken Shim’s fingers and only for a night or two. She wasn’t even sure she liked the sensation, but their desire was overwhelming.
“Did the consort like it?” Bron asked, her voice coming out on a little squeak as she felt Shim dribble oil on her asshole. She’d been told the vampires always carried a small bottle of what they called lubricant. Vampires, it seemed to Bron, were a deeply perverted people if part of their preparations for daily life were to always be ready should the chance to fuck an asshole arise.
Shim worked the oil in, over and around, massaging her most intimate place. She felt her asshole quiver as though it meant to fight and keep the invader out.
Lach’s hand traced up her spine and settled on her neck, a deeply possessive gesture. “The consort submitted and took her master’s cock. She was beautiful and she was rewarded with a long orgasm and a deeper bond. But I worry that isn’t what you want.”
“I do want to be closer, Lachlan.” It wasn’t a lie. And she definitely wanted them to know her better.
He stroked her hair as Shim worked her ass. “I’m not stupid, Bron. I might be the warrior half, but my brain functions, too. You’re going to bond. You’re going to show us what you need and then you expect that we will be so overwhelmed by love for you that we’ll let you fight, but I think it will work the opposite way. We’ll be so madly in love we’ll protect you more and that will make you hate us.”
A simple truth came to her. She wasn’t ready to say the words yet. She wasn’t there. She’d loved in her dreams, but reality had smacked her straight in the gut. Reality was so much harder and they’d had a lifetime to come to terms. But she knew one thing for absolute certain. “I could never hate you.”
“I pray to Danu that is true.” He leaned over and kissed her, a soft brushing of lips against lips. “Because it would kill my soul and I don’t have any power over that.”
Shim’s fingers foraged deep and she groaned. A sexy little smile came over Lach’s lips. “What’s he doing to you?”
“He’s tearing me up.” But it also felt good. She wasn’t sure how many fingers Shim had deep in her backside, but they burned and stretched and made her nerves come alive.
“It just feels like that, love,” Shim said. “She’s doing beautifully. She’s stretched wide and waiting for a cock.”
“Don’t you do a thing until I get inside.” He walked down toward the river.
Bron felt her eyes widen. Both? Now? But she didn’t have time to protest. Shim’s fingers slipped out and Lach lifted her up. She wasn’t sure when he’d shed his clothes, but his body was bare, his cock standing straight up against his washboard belly. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all and placed her over his cock.
“Take it, Bron. Take my cock. Fuck it, princess. Ride me.”
Bron reached down and held him in her hand, pulling him into position and lining him up to her ripe pussy. She was so wet, but she still felt impaled as she began to slide onto Lach’s monster cock. He filled her up. She had to control it, slipping down inch by glorious inch.
Lach gripped her hips. “Damn, woman, you’re killing me. So fucking tight. So good.”
She finally seated herself fully, his cock invading every inch of her pussy. She could feel him practically touching her womb. He would come inside her, filling her with his essence. He would give her his cum and she could already carry his child—a future king. Should she do as they asked? Should she hide herself away and bear children and let the men run the kingdom?
But didn’t she owe her children a strong mother? So many obligations. She owed her future children, her dead parents, her hopeful brothers, her husbands, her people.
What did she owe herself?
“Not now, Bron. Please.” Lach looked up at her with troubled eyes pleading.
He was right. It wasn’t the time to worry or let future cares cloud her. This was their time, a shelter from everything else. Tomorrow might fall like a hammer on all of them, but tonight was a beautiful thing. Bonding.
Lach sighed as she drew up a bit and moved back down, his cock moving inside her. A wave of pure pleasure hit her and it was from Lachlan. He loved this, loved being inside her. This was his home.
“Lean over, love. Put your chest against Lach’s.” Shim had returned from the river where she was sure he’d dumped his clothes and cleaned himself. He pressed down on her back, forcing her forward.
“What’s he doing?” Bron asked. Her nipples brushed against Lach’s hard chest.
“Getting ready. He’s oiling up his cock so he can fuck your ass, love. This is what we’ve always wanted. You in between us. You completing us. We weren’t whole without you, Bron. We would be shells if you went away.” Lach held her, opening her for his brother’s invasion.
She gasped as felt his cockhead press against her asshole.
“Feel me, love. Listen to what I’m feeling. Know me.” Shim sent out a wave that slammed against Bron.
Every nerve in his body was focused on her. Every muscle was ready, every cell in his being awake and alive. He’d waited his life for this moment and it went beyond the sex. He’d waited to bond, the true bond. He’d waited to know her. Shim didn’t want sex. He wanted to make love to the woman who bridged his soul. He wanted to share with her. Even though he’d had Lach, he’d been so alone without her.
Shim didn’t know how or why they had connected at so early an age, but he never questioned it. He’d known she was his and he was hers. No other women had even been a blinking thought. He’d wanted Bronwyn. Needed Bronwyn.
She felt his heart pounding in his chest as he fucked in short strokes, opening her a little more each time.
“Feel me,” Lach said, his eyes steady on hers.
He loved being in her pussy, loved the feel of her all around him. He loved the heat of her body because he thought there was a cold, dead place inside him that only she could fill. He was lonely, too. Shim was light and heat, but he had only a chill. He had worried all his life that she would reject him because he was made of the cold dead things of the planes.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “No. You’re not cold.”
He didn’t answer, but the look on his face told her he didn’t believe.
She kissed him, feeling Shim as he finally breached her ass. “You’re not cold, my Lachlan. You aren’t cold to me.”
“Never to you, love.”
Shim overwhelmed her with the feel of her asshole clenching around him as he finally slid deep. If there was discomfort, she couldn’t feel it. She could only feel his pleasure as he pressed in, the tightness making his balls draw up, curling in ecstasy.
It was so tight. Tighter than ever since she was packed with their cocks.
Shim pulled out, almost to the rim of her anus while Lach pressed up until she could feel his balls against her flesh.
This was what she’d dreamed of. Both her men. Her Dark Ones. They filled her, surrounded her, protected and held her. For so long they had been the dream she’d retreated to, and then they were a reality she might have to flee from, but here and now they were everything.
She rode them, pumping back and forth, accepting everything they had to give. She sank into them, their pleasure, their emotion and gave them back her own.
Pleasure singed her spine, heated her skin.
She felt the moment Shim’s orgasm started. It blasted through her system. She heard herself shout and the men move. Lach pulled her down, grinding into her. His pelvis rubbed across her clit, sending shivers of pleasure, opening her up, enfolding her senses.
Lach shouted beneath her, and she felt the hot wash of his cum filling her pussy.
They fell into a heap and Bron felt it. Both men reached out to her, opening themselves to the bond.
“Is tú mo ghrá,” they said in one voice.
She gave them back the traditi
onal words. You are my love. It’s what they would have said had their marriage been properly witnessed. “Is tú mo ghrá.”
Bron reached out and grabbed the bond and fell headlong into chaos.
Chapter Eighteen
Bron watched her brother walk away. Was she Lach or Shim? She couldn’t tell. They were mingled together inside her.
Lach. She was Lachlan. He worried about his brother, even at an early age. He was five, perhaps. And Shim seemed so much younger to Lach. And Duffy. Duffy was so small, far smaller than the brownies who kept the palace gleaming. How would they survive?
The world seemed cruel to Lach, but even now he knew his place. A troll had struck him hours before, laughing and asking if the little prince could handle a crowning. He’d whipped his tail around and smacked Lach in the head. Lach had heard Shim’s cry. Lach had managed to stifle his pain, but it had been shared with his brother.
We aren’t allowed to cry. Never allowed.
He’d picked up a chair, and only his mother’s presence had stopped him from killing the troll.
So much rage in such a small body. Rage and anger and worry for his other half. Shim was his better half. He had to be protected at all costs. Shim was the one who contained their power to love and Lach wanted to feel that.
He needed Shim far more than Shim needed him. He had to protect his brothers. Always.
The scene shifted and she felt Shim. She could tell the difference now. Shim’s soul wasn’t as restless as Lach’s was, though now it was heavy. So heavy. He looked down at the pale woman on the bed and his heart ached.
Why didn’t she wake up? She looked pale, but nothing else seemed wrong with her. She needed a bit of blood. His mother was a vampire. Blood. That was all. She needed to eat and then she would wake up and he could climb into her lap. He was getting too big, but mother didn’t seem to mind. Mother still cuddled him close and sang songs and told him stories. Even Lach liked her stories about her home plane. And Duffy loved the songs. He was still small enough for her to carry. Sometimes Shim envied his brother. He loved being close to mother.
Why wouldn’t she wake up? Surely she hadn’t meant to go swimming in the river. Everyone knew it was dangerous. She hadn’t fallen in. She hadn’t drowned.
She was the queen. Queens didn’t drown. Mothers didn’t drown. Mothers woke up and took care of their sons.
Shim looked back at the place where his father sat. He’d aged overnight, his hair going white the minute they’d brought mother in, her heavy dress dripping with water.
Who would take care of them?
He reached for his mother’s hand and prayed she would wake up.
Bron’s brain hurt. They bombarded her, as though both speaking at once. Lach loved his brothers and the palace. He loved running wild and knowing it would all be his one day. Shim loved the library and the books his mother had bought from all over the planes she’d travelled to. He didn’t want to be king. He wanted to be a traveler, but most of all he wanted the princess. His princess. His playmate. He searched for her during the daytime and then one morning when he was just past sixteen he read a magazine article. A DL from the vampire tablet his cousin had sent him. He would be seeing his cousin Julian soon. Oh, he was so much more worldly and wise, and he’d thought Shim should study the plane his mother had come from.
And there she was. A picture of a girl named Bronwyn Finn. His heart stopped, staring down at the photo in vivid color. The girl was wearing white and smiling, a daisy in her hair. She stood next to two strong, dark-haired lads and two vampires, a young man and a slightly older girl. Bronwyn Finn, princess of the Seelie, was visiting her cousins the Dellacourts.
Shim picked up the tablet and ran to find his brother.
And then everything seemed to slow down.
Bron stood in a barn, her hands brushing her favorite horse. Shim. Shim was satisfied. Satisfied with life. He missed his mother, but things were finally going well again.
And he’d found her. He’d found the girl from his dreams. Shim smiled and patted his horse, thinking of Bronwyn all the while. It had been fun at first. She’d been a playmate who knew all sorts of games. And over the years, he’d known he was in love with her. Since the moment he’d realized what love was.
And now he was going to marry her. Gillian had gone to arrange a marriage. She was the only one who believed the princess in his dreams was real. He and Lach had tried to tell father, but he didn’t want to listen to them and he’d forbade them to talk about it to anyone else, but Gillian believed.
He was going to marry his Bron. She was real and his heart was so full.
And then it hurt.
Shim hit his knees. His whole body ached, and he could have sworn there was a hole in his gut. What was happening to him? Fear took over, but then he heard the hum. He heard it each night in his dreams, and when he concentrated very hard, he could sometimes hear it during the day. It was a soft noise, usually, but now it was a roar in his head that drowned out everything else.
Except his brother. He could feel his brother’s panic. How could he hear his brother? Lach was on the other side of the palace, but Shim knew he was running.
And he knew something else, too. Bron was in trouble.
Bonded. Somehow, she’d reached across the planes and made that connection that tied them to each other outside of their dreams. She’d grasped some invisible thread and she was pulling him to her.
And it hurt. The agony. As though his being was yanked somewhere it shouldn’t go.
He felt the fire building in his belly. He heard her panic. Despite the horrible pain, he forced himself to listen—to himself and his body. The fire was his power, given to him by the bond, pulled from him by an intensely strong bondmate.
She was in danger, and he had the power to save her.
Get me close, love. Get me close. Can you feel me? I am with you always. Always, love.
She had to listen. He could do this. He could control it. It was right there on the surface. Fire would save her, save them all.
And then his power died.
Too weak. She was too weak. Gods. Shim screamed. He could feel her fading, dying. Not now. Not when they hadn’t kissed, hadn’t loved, hadn’t melded into one another’s souls.
Rage threatened to take over. He’d been promised. He and Lachlan. She’d been promised to them. More than any crown or kingdom, she was their birthright and he wouldn’t be denied.
He heard his brother shout as he did the only thing he could. He reached across the cord that connected them and sent his life to her.
As he felt her breath, he took his final gasp, and the world became fire.
Feet pounding. Panic was flooding his system. Shim. Something was wrong with Shim. Something had changed, in his head, in his soul, in the whole fucking world. He’d been standing there talking to Duffy and suddenly he’d known where Shim was, been able to feel what he felt, sense what he was thinking. He’d always been able to feel his other half, but not like this. This was overpowering, overwhelming.
And then it was over. Lach felt the connection cut and silence reigned. Nothingness. He couldn’t feel Shim at all, as though he didn’t exist.
Lach ran. He knew where his brother had been. The stables. And now he saw something that terrified him.
Fire blazed, engulfing every wall of the small stables where the best horses were kept. The family’s private stock. And it looked like nothing would be saved.
But Shim was in there and if he couldn’t be saved, then Lach had nothing left at all.
Shim was the smart one. Shim was the one who could love. Shim was the beautiful part of his soul. Without Shim, there was only Lach and Lach was violence and dominance and cold power.
Lach didn’t wish to live without the best part of his soul.
He heard Duffy screaming at him to stop, but he couldn’t. If Shim was gone, then the fire could take him.
Heat assailed him so strong that for a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’
t breathe. The smoke was so thick he almost couldn’t focus. His eyes watered and his lungs burned. Something large knocked him down, and he watched in horror as Shim’s horse fled, its entire body on fire.
But there he was. Shim lay on the floor, his body still as the flames leapt around. Some seemed to shoot from his body, but he didn’t seem to be burned. His clothes were a mess, but his skin was pristine.
“Shim!” Lach screamed over the cracking of the fire. He looked overheard. The beams would come down any minute. He didn’t have a second to lose. He had to get his brother out of there. He leapt across the flames, his skin scorching, and picked up his brother.
He dropped him. His flesh was on fire. Horrible burns erupted on his flesh where he’d touched his brother. The skin bubbled and boiled.
And he couldn’t give up.
Lach gritted his teeth against the agony and lifted his brother again.
He screamed, the pain filling his every sense, but somehow his feet moved toward the door. Somehow he made it outside where the grass was cool.
He fell to his knees and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his brother was dead.
There was nothing inside Shim. Nothing at all. His body was a shell and a molten one at that. Lach’s body was burned, his skin torched, every inch an agony, but something cool and calm came over him.
Power flowed for the first time. It started in his center and reached out. He could feel them. The dead. There was power in them, an unspoken essence that they each retained, whether bone or ash. Power remained and Lach called on it.
And his brother took a deep breath.
Lach fell back, his vision fading, the pain taking over. His brother was…alive? He wasn’t sure. But Lach could feel his soul once more.
* * * *
Shim came out of the bond, his whole body shaking. He clenched his fists and looked down at his skin. It looked normal, but he knew now it wasn’t.
He was a corpse. He had been since the day he’d given his life to save Bron’s.
He was a walking, talking corpse.