by Sophie Oak
“I’ll deal with Micha. He’ll want a grand wedding. He’s intent on inviting the queen herself.” Maris. Bron’s fist clenched. Maris, the betrayer. Over the years, Bron had come to understand that Maris had been the one to open the palace gates and allow Torin’s marauders in. Maris, who had pledged to love her brothers. Maris, whose corpse Bron intended to see tossed over her husband’s.
Gillian stood, seemingly satisfied with that bit of news. “Excellent. A wedding like that will take months to plan. We can sell our crops and disappear. Perhaps a seaside province this time. I’ve long wanted to try my hand with a fishing net.”
Gillian enjoyed a challenge. “We’ll have the most profitable boat in no time.”
Gillian nodded and left. Bron’s heart raced a bit as she got under the covers and snuffed out her candle. She settled into the firm straw mattress, wiggling around until she was as comfortable as she was likely to be.
Moonlight streamed in, casting everything with a silvery glow. Bron closed her eyes and prayed for sleep.
* * * *
She walked into the room, white marble under her feet. This was the White Palace, her home. She knew it, even years later. It played in the back of her mind that it was probably different now. Thirteen years of Torin’s rule had undoubtedly changed the place, but in her dreams, the palace was still her sunny home, unchanged, undimmed by faulty memory.
She turned her face up. This was the sunshine room. Oh, her mother called it the waiting room, where she and her ladies sat and sewed and chatted, but Bronwyn called it the sunshine room because it was always filled with light.
A familiar shape moved just out of the light’s reach. This shape hid in shadows.
Her Dark Ones.
“Are you coming out?” Bron called, teasing them a bit. She caught sight of one and then the other, their forms clinging to the edge of the light.
“Why don’t you come back in?” They spoke in one voice, a slight echo in the words.
It was always this way. Come morning, she knew she would wonder why she never sat down and talked to them, but caught in the dream, she simply did what felt right.
They didn’t love the light the way she did, but they would wait for her. She turned her face up to the sun, letting it warm her. The sun felt different here. In her village, it was always so hot during the summers, but at the palace the sun was a soft kiss on her skin, warming her gently.
“We can kiss you better than the sun. Come here.”
She smiled, not looking their way just yet. They grew surer and more dominant with each night. It was hard to believe that they had come to her as children. She’d been five and so shy of the boys who had called out to her in dreams.
She wanted to play with them now but not as children.
Her nipples tightened against the soft silk of her gown.
“If you don’t come to us, we’ll be forced to get you, sweetheart. It might not go well for you,” the more dominant voice said.
“He’s itching to spank you, love. Give him a reason.” This second voice was gentler, but there was no mistaking his interest.
Nor hers. She could explore everything in these dreams, and lately, her interests had taken a distinctly disciplinary tone. She wondered if they would really spank her. She wondered how it would feel.
“Yes, and you’ll love it.”
She felt a strong hand at her wrist and the scene changed. She was no longer in the palace, but some dark place where the marble at her feet was black and the room was dominated by an enormous bed draped with curtains.
Her Dark Ones stood by the bed. Twins. So alike she hadn’t been able to tell them apart at first, but then she’d assigned them numbers. One was the rougher of the twins, though his hands were always gentle on her skin. Two had a sweet smile and liked to talk dirty.
“Where are we?” she asked.
One’s brows rose. “We are where I want us to be. In our home. In our bed.”
Never answers. She’d grown accustomed. They were dressed identically in dark leather pants. Those clothes were unlike anything in Tir na nÓg. The leather they made here didn’t have the supple feel of the twins’ clothes.
“You’re beautiful tonight, love,” Two said with a long sigh. “But I would love to see more of you.”
One’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we explained this before. You don’t need garments around your men. You need only your own sweet skin.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “You have no problem with pants, I see.”
One’s lips curved up in a wicked smile, his satisfaction a palpable thing. “A bratty mouth will bring you nothing but trouble, sweetheart.”
He used that word often. Brat. She remembered her cousin calling her a brat when they were young. He would pull her pigtails lightly and laugh and call her brat. It was a phrase from the Vampire plane to speak of sweetly disobedient girls.
“I don’t see why I should be naked when the two of you are clothed.” She could feel the smile on her face. Her dreams had been more and more sensual in nature. In the last several years, since the dreams had flared back to life, each night they went a little further. It had started with an embrace, their arms wrapping around her when she’d realized they were once again with her. Those dreams had been little flashes she couldn’t seem to hold on to no matter how hard she tried. She’d clung to One and Two until they faded. Then gradually each had become more solid, the dreams lasting longer.
That was when the kissing had begun. What kisses they were. Long, slow kisses that seemed to last for hours. Just lips at first, and then One had boldly traced her lips with his tongue.
One was suddenly in front of her, his eyes warm as though he could read her thoughts. His hand came up, tracing her lips as his tongue had. “You like kissing.”
“I like kissing you.” She went up on her tiptoes, leaning in to brush her mouth against his.
He backed away, frowning. “Me? Who else do you kiss?”
She felt her eyes roll. Even in her dreams, men were difficult. “I’m twenty-seven years old. I have been caught by roving hands and held down for unwanted kisses. There isn’t a peasant alive who hasn’t suffered worse than me. I’ve had my guardian to protect me. Count yourself lucky that Gillian isn’t in my dreams, for you would find yourself unable to kiss me.”
“I think your guardian would show favor to our suit,” Two said from behind her.
Bron sighed. She loved being surrounded by them. One moved back in, his hand cupping her cheek.
“I don’t want another’s hand on you,” he said, his eyes serious.
She began to pull away. “I am a virgin, but I’m not without the experience of a man nearly taking from me that which is mine to give. If it had happened, you would not touch me. Leave me be. I’ll seek another dream.”
He pulled her close. “Stop, brat. I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t want another’s hand on you. You’re ours. Our love, our heart. You can’t expect us to be happy with such a thing.” He tangled a hand in her hair. “I hate that we are not able to protect you.”
She hated that they were not real. She wasn’t stupid. They were a projection of her own needs. When she had been a child, she’d needed companionship, and the Dark Ones had been there for her. Now, she needed love and protection, and her soul cried out for a lover she couldn’t take. And her Dark Ones were here for her. They were her dream and her nightly refuge.
She sighed and relaxed, letting her hands slide on his muscular chest. His skin was warm and smooth, covering corded muscle. One was so overwhelming. Two was softer. She needed them both, but now she craved One’s dominance. Her life was so out of control.
She wanted their touch.
“Kiss me,” she said.
One frowned down at her. “You sound like a princess when you say that. Do you think you can order me around, princess? Do you think I’m your slave?”
Two kissed the back of her neck, causing her to shiver. She couldn’t be sure, but she w
ould almost swear she felt the lightest scrape of something sharp along her skin. “I damn well am her slave, brother.”
One reached out and smacked his twin’s head. “Don’t give up my game, brother. We both know who’s in charge, but when we’re bedding her, it’s going to be us in the lead.” He stared down at her, his deep, dark eyes pulling at her. “Princess, we’re going to be your Masters in the bedroom. Do you understand what that means?”
“You want me to be a slave?” The term rankled.
“I want you to be the submissive partner, princess. It’s the way relationships work where we come from. There’s a Dominant partner or partners and a submissive, usually the female. It means we’re to take care of you in all things.”
What did it say about the enormous responsibilities of the last thirteen years of her life that when she fantasized about a relationship, it was with men who wanted to take the lead? Still, she couldn’t let all of her control go. Not even in a dream.
“I can let you take the lead in this, but know I’m still my own woman.”
He chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t have you any other way. You wouldn’t be alive today if you were less of a woman than you are.”
It was true, and she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she had to deal with the mayor tomorrow. The festival would be crowded enough that she could avoid him until she absolutely had to stand beside him and announce their engagement. She would play the demure fiancée and plead the harvest to keep from his company. As soon as the money was in Gillian’s hands, they would disappear.
Micha was a momentary problem. Her Dark Ones were more important.
“All right then, you should tell me what you want me to do. You seemed to have enjoyed kissing me before.” She directed her question to One since Two was once again preoccupied. His hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms as his mouth was again on the nape of her neck. The heat of his body surrounded her, and she could feel something hard pressed against her lower back.
His male part. His cock. She’d heard the village women giggle as they talked of their husbands and lovers. They often spoke of cocks and how much pleasure a cock could bring. Bron had watched the animals mate in the fields, but the women around her told her that making love to a man was very different.
This certainly felt different.
She rubbed back against Two.
“Hey. Don’t you forget me.” One pressed in, trapping her between their massive, muscular bodies. She was deliciously crushed in between them. “And I love kissing you, princess. We both do. Now calm down and let us take control. We’re getting closer. Can you feel it?”
Something did feel different. Their voices were stronger than before. Where they used to whisper, now they spoke in strong tones. Where the touches and caresses had once been light and soft as a spring breeze, they felt solid and real to her.
“I feel it. I want you here with me.” She wanted to never wake up. She wanted to sink so far into the dream that it became her reality. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about killing Torin or saving her people. She wouldn’t have to find a place to hide Mags and Ove. She wouldn’t have to plot ways to keep Micha’s hands off her. She could simply be their submissive.
One kissed her, his lips strong against her own. She shivered when she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips at the exact moment Two’s fingertips began to pull down the bodice of her gown. The silky fabric skimmed her skin, and she opened for One’s invasion. One kissed her like a ravenously hungry man, his mouth slanting over hers again and again. He rubbed his tongue along hers, a slow, silky slide that heated her whole body.
She felt it again, that slight flash of something sharp nipping at her flesh, but it was gone in an instant. Cool air kissed her breasts as Two worked the bodice to her waist.
One’s head came up, and he stared down at her now-bare breasts.
It was only the second time she’d been naked in a dream, and in the first she’d been awakened by the damn rooster. She prayed dawn was far away.
“You’re so beautiful, princess,” One said, his voice husky.
“So fucking gorgeous,” Two whispered into her ear. “Think about how lovely these beauties will be when we dress them up.”
Big, strong hands cupped her breasts, offering them up to One, who reached out and began to play with her nipples. She whimpered as he pinched them.
“That’s right love, that’s a sweet sound.” He rolled the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He would gently tug and then punctuate it with a sharp, stinging pinch that sent shivers of arousal to her pussy. Her nipples tightened, and her every inch of skin began to come alive. “It sounds like the little princess likes our games, brother.”
“She’ll like the jewels I’ll pick out for her nipples, too.” Two nipped at her ear. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let your Masters dress you up. We’ll bind you and hold you down for our pleasure. We’ll pierce these gorgeous nipples and play with the rings.”
“I don’t know about that last bit.” It was normal in some provinces, but she wasn’t sure about it. Still, it was just a dream. “Maybe. Who knows what I’ll let you do if you take care of me the way you’ve promised.”
“Still making demands.” One rubbed his nose against hers, the affection in the gesture making her heart skip. “I can’t wait to feel the flat of my hand on your ass.”
Two groaned behind her. “And I can’t wait to sink my fangs in you.”
She stopped. “Fangs?”
She would never dream of her Dark Ones with fangs. She’d never thought of them in anything but a funny way. Dante had fangs. Her husband would be sidhe, not a vampire. She stopped and tried to pull away.
“Hey.” Two’s hands tightened on her hips.
“Let me go.” What the hell was happening? This wasn’t her waking dream. When she thought about her Dark Ones, they were sidhe. They had some power, perhaps gentry royals. They would be her brothers’ loyalists. They would help the cause.
They wouldn’t be vampires.
“What’s wrong, princess?” One had tightened up, every muscle in his body taking on a tension.
It didn’t matter. This was her fantasy, and she could utterly ignore anything she wasn’t sure about. “Nothing. Touch me.”
The fingers on her nipples tightened to just the right side of pain. “You keep pushing me, brat. It makes me want to turn you over my knee.”
Again, a very vampire-like attitude. It was okay. She’d loved her cousin, Dante. She’d adored her aunt and uncle and spent time on the plane. If she thought about it, she rather believed that it was where her brothers were, safe and sound with the Dellacourts. It was only predictable that she dream of vampires. Vampires wouldn’t have to deal with Torin. Vampires were safe on their own plane.
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was pleasure.
“Turn me over your knee, then,” she said. “Just touch me. Any way you want.”
One smiled, his lips turning up slightly. “Tell her what you want to do, brother.”
Two’s hands found her hips, pulling her back against his cock. “I want to eat you, love.”
“What?” She wasn’t sure what to take that as. Was her dream becoming a nightmare?
One snorted, though he managed to make it sound regal. “Little virgin. He’s talking about licking and sucking on your pussy. He wants to taste you.”
She wasn’t an idiot. She’d listened in on the women of the village. Peasant women were much more willing to talk than her former friends and handlers at the palace. The villagers could be bawdy and boisterous, and when a bit of ale was introduced, they could be very honest around a woman of marriageable age. She understood what he wanted. Yes, she wanted to try that.
“All right.” The minute the words left her mouth, she was scooped up into Two’s arms, and he began to walk toward the big bed.
She cuddled up against his massive c
hest. She felt small and fragile. She knew she wasn’t. The last thirteen years had proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt, but it was so nice to feel protected and cherished even if it was only a dream.
He placed her on the bed. Somehow One had gotten there first. Two laid her down against One. Strong arms wrapped around her, the heat of his chest at her back. He nuzzled her cheek, kissing her lightly. His arms tightened around her.
“Stay still, love. Let my brother have his treat. He’s waited so long to taste you.” The words were hot on her skin.
Two pulled at the silk of the gown she wore, hauling it down her body until she was naked in front of them. She knew she would be horrified if this happened in her reality, but in the dream she felt sexy and beautiful. She loved the way Two stared down at her, his eyes widening as he took in her body.
She was perfect in this dream. She was soft, and her breasts were full. She was curvy the way beautiful royals were. Somehow her mind filled out her form to what it should have been. In the harsh light of day, she was typical of a woman who plowed fields for her existence. She wasn’t gaunt, but she wasn’t filled out the way a princess would be. She was a peasant and she looked it, but here she was everything she’d dreamed of being.
“You’re so lovely.” Two’s fingers skimmed over her skin.
And they were amazing. Dark hair and eyes. Perfect faces with sharply masculine features. They were everything she could have dreamed of.
Two caught her ankles and very gently forced her legs apart.
“Leave them there.” One whispered the command in her ear, his hands tweaking her nipples.
Two climbed on the bed looking like a big predatory cat. He got to his belly, his mouth hovered right over her pussy. “Can you smell her, brother?”
“She smells like she wants it,” One replied. “Do you want it, princess? Do you want my brother to sink his tongue deep inside your cunt? Do you want him to taste every inch of your pussy? To stroke your little clit until you come?”
“Yes.” A simple answer, but it came from her soul. She wanted more than the orgasm. She wanted to feel connected to them, to sink so far into them that she never had to feel alone again. She wanted this time when she could be Bronwyn again.