by Sophie Oak
“I want to taste your juice, too. But that’s not the only thing I want to taste, a chumann,” Shim said. “Make her come, brother, so I can have my taste.”
Lach sucked her clit into his mouth and she went flying. It was stronger this time. The drug seemed almost banished from her system, but she knew it would come again. She would feel the ache and the fire, but she was no longer afraid. Her Dark Ones were here. They would care for her. They would give her what she needed to fight the ache.
Lach kissed her pussy one last time before getting to his knees. His cock bobbed, standing straight up, almost touching his navel. Those fangs were out, but now she wasn’t afraid of those, either. Now they just made him look feral and magnificent.
She felt so good, but it was already building again, a tiny, hurtful flame that would engulf her once more. How long could she endure it?
Shim turned her, moving her body until she looked into his perfect face. She couldn’t see Lach, but Shim held her fast.
“Now it’s my turn for a taste.” He licked his fangs as Bron got lost in his never-ending eyes.
* * * *
Shim felt it the moment he caught her. His eyes had widened, his vision expanding and shrinking at the same time. He could tell the expansion because his peripheral vision widened, but it didn’t matter because his focus shrunk to one thing and one thing only. Bronwyn.
He opened that place deep inside—the royal vampire’s legacy. He drew his prey in, a primal part of him calling to her. It was how a royal fed. A royal didn’t drag down his prey. A royal made the prey beg for his bite.
“What’s happening?” Bron’s voice sounded half strangled in her throat.
Shim could hear her heart beating like the fast-running metronome in his old vampire tutor’s piano lessons. Shim had mastered the piano with ease, but Lach had threatened to take an axe to the damn thing. Thud. Thud. Thud. A seductive beat promising nourishment for more than his body. Bronwyn’s blood would fill his soul.
First blood.
It was sacred or it should be. Shim knew there were many vampires who took blood as often as they took sex, but he wanted both only from his mate. Perhaps it was that they had been together since they were children, and before he’d even understood the word love, he’d been in love with her. Perhaps it was a function of his personality, but Shim had always known if he couldn’t have Bronwyn, he would die alone, like a sad monk waiting for the day he could join his god.
He felt a bit of his brother’s desperate need to dominate as he tugged Bron’s hair to one side, exposing her neck.
“It’s a way to make the bite painless, Bron.” Lach sat back on his heels, watching them. He had his hand on his cock, caressing it. Shim knew exactly what he was doing. The mating fever was strong, probably stronger in Lach than in Shim himself. If he didn’t keep his cock engaged, he would fall on Bronwyn with no thought but to pound himself into her, to imprint on her.
They had to take it slow.
But she was ready for this. Shim ran his nose along her neck. He’d seen this act performed before. Cousin Julian had forced him to watch it, to learn how it was done. Shim remembered how frustrated Julian had been that he and Lach wouldn’t feed, but now it was all worth it. His first blood would be her blood.
Bron’s eyes were caught in his. He felt like he could see all the way down to her beautiful, innocent soul. She was so lovely in her natural form. He’d wondered if she’d been like Lach, projecting a perfect image of herself and it had been true. She was thinner in her real form, a bit more careworn, but still so perfect she made his heart stop. He and Lach would take better care of her. They would feed her and coddle her until her curves filled out and her eyes danced with mirth as they had when she’d run through their dreams as a child.
“This feels so good,” she murmured.
The vampire connection of predator to beloved and honored prey was working in a way he hadn’t expected. The drug wasn’t as strong as this power, made even stronger through the shared connection of his brother. He drew her in, away from the pain, away from the fear into a place that was just for the three of them.
His fangs were so big, he could barely talk through them. Like his cock, they were long and hard for his mate. And just like his cock, they demanded to have their way. “This, love, is going to feel even better.”
He drew her close, loving the way those nipples poked at his chest, brushing his own. He’d enjoyed tugging on them and couldn’t wait for the day when they would take her and have her nipples pierced, adorning their sweet submissive as she should be.
Running on pure instinct, Shim drew back. He knew exactly where to bite. The long, thick vein in her neck practically pounded, calling out to him to open it and drink his fill.
“Take her, brother.” Lach’s hand was on her back as though he couldn’t stand not touching her. “Bring her closer to us.”
“I love you, a stoirin.” It was nothing less than the truth. Shim reared back and his fangs sank into her soft flesh.
He took his first drag and finally understood why vampires jealously guarded this tradition. It was a secret thing, somewhat shameful in the modern vampire world, but Shim had never experienced an intimacy like it.
The blood flowed into his mouth, coating his tongue. It was the richest taste. No food, no wine, no drink at all would ever compare to the way she tasted. Like the darkest flavor, the most forbidden.
Shim felt her sigh and relax in his arms, her heart a clear beat in his head. He knew everything about her body in that instant. He knew her heartbeat was rising with each deep drag. Her pussy, already soft from Lach’s lavish affection, was throbbing in time to her heart, her clit pulsing. Her head was foggy with desire, her thoughts of them covered in a lacy haze.
He caught small visions of her life, but mostly he felt her joy at being there with them. Her Dark Ones. Her One and her Two. Her Lachlan and her Shim.
So much running. So much hiding. So much of the before had been burned away by that one moment when the knife had cut through her belly and ended her life.
She didn’t know. She didn’t remember a thing about what had happened. She didn’t recall how he’d reached across the planes and poured his life into her.
Gods, she didn’t think he was real at all.
Bronwyn gasped and gripped his body, holding him as she quaked. The pleasure was so new to her, and she held fast to it like a drunk with his first taste of liquor. Bron didn’t have a single shield. She transmitted her pleasure to him, the feeling going straight to Shim’s cock. Her womb shook and quaked, sending pleasure coursing through her body and into his.
Shim’s cock was gripped with her heat though she didn’t lay a hand on it. Spasms ran through his belly and shook up his spine. He pulled his fangs out of her neck as the orgasm crashed into him. His cock pulsed out waves of cum, coating her belly as he thrust helplessly against her.
He finally fell back against the bed, taking her with him, wrapping himself around her.
“It’s not enough,” she whispered. “I loved it, but it’s not enough.”
She needed. He finally understood. It wasn’t just the orgasm she needed. She needed to be filled. She needed them to fill her up and let her know they were real and she wasn’t alone.
He looked to his brother. “She needs you. Make love to her. Make her ours.”
Chapter Eleven
Where was the fucking mating fever when he needed it? It had been riding him hard, and then he’d had a handle on it the minute he’d felt his brother feed and share Bronwyn’s orgasm. Now it had deserted him and he was left with plain desire and overwhelming insecurity.
Lach stared down at Bronwyn. She looked soft and so damn sweet in Shim’s arms. There were two perfect, delicate holes on her neck. They had already closed, but the temptation was right there to lean down and sink his fangs in, too. First blood.
He was made of the monstrous things of the planes. Unseelie sidhe. Vampire. Goblin. Sometimes he feared th
e scars on his face had finally unmasked him for what he was, as though his ruined face was an outward expression of his inward soul.
King of the Dead. What right did he have to take a creature who was so stunningly, gloriously alive?
Her eyes fluttered open and a smile crossed her lips. “It’s not so bad now.”
Shim kissed her. “I’m taking some of the pain, love. We’re bonded. Not fully. That can come when you’re not under the influence of herbs and potions, but we do have a bond. There’s a piece of me inside you. Haven’t you always been able to feel it?”
Shim belonged. Shim had been the one to save her. Shim had sent out a piece of his soul across the planes and placed it deep inside Bronwyn, giving her life where it had been taken.
All Lach had managed to do was save his brother from a fire that wouldn’t have hurt him. All Lach had done was ruin his face and sit idly by his brother’s bedside, hoping he would awaken once more.
“There were years when I couldn’t feel you. I hated those years.” Her hand drifted up. It didn’t matter that Shim was taking some of her pain. Bronwyn was still under the influence of that potion. Her legs moved restlessly. She sank her hands in Shim’s hair, pulling him down for a long kiss. “I was alone without my Dark Ones. Don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” Shim replied. “We’ll take you back to our home.”
“The Dark Palace.” Her feet tickled at his knees. He couldn’t help it. He had to touch her. Her ankles were delicate, seemingly incongruous against his big, rough hands. “Will you carry me away to your bedroom? The one with the huge, soft bed?”
They had started taking her there in their shared dreams the year before, gently herding her toward what they wanted. If they couldn’t have her in real life, they’d decided, they would take her in their dreams.
But now she would come with them. They would have her in their wing of the Dark Palace. She would be their princess. She would live with them and know that no one respected a word they said because their father thought them fragile.
“He won’t think you’re fragile when he hears how you raised an army of dead and took out the entire village guard, brother.” Shim laughed as he kissed the top of her head. Shim seemed as drugged as Bron now, his hands stroking as though they couldn’t stop moving over her skin.
Lach was not immune to whatever Bron and Shim were sending out. His cock was still throbbing. If only his brain could shut down. And it wouldn’t happen as long as his brother kept eavesdropping. “Get out of my head.”
Bron laughed a little. “You’re both in my head. Be nicer to one another.”
Lach’s hands moved up her legs to her knees. He couldn’t help himself. Her skin called to him. He knew he should stop. He wouldn’t be good for her. She was a beauty, meant for the finer, sweeter things in life. She was small and delicate. How would she survive in his world thick with ogres and goblins and trolls, all who would test her mettle before accepting her as a royal? Sweet little Bronwyn shouldn’t have to deal with a beast like himself.
He wanted to dominate her. He wanted to be rough and fuck her until she screamed out his name and begged his mercy because she couldn’t handle one more bit of pleasure. He wanted to place a collar around her throat as vampires so often did with their consorts—a symbol that she belonged to him. How could he tell her of his dark needs? The need to shove his cock in her pussy, up her ass, in her mouth. Anywhere it would fit. He wanted to fill her every hole.
“See those are much more helpful thoughts, brother.” Shim’s eyes were shuttered, his fingers on her breasts. “Let go of all that angst and revel in our bonding time. We won’t get much of it until we take our princess home.”
“Stay out of my damn head, Shim. You’re trying to influence me.”
“No.” His brother shook his head. “She’s influencing both of us. She’s so damn strong. I don’t think she even knows how strong she is.”
Bronwyn smiled, pride in her voice. “I’m very strong. I can plow a whole field in a day.”
Both he and his brother shuddered. The thought of their mate in the fields was horrifying when she should have had an easeful life.
Lach found himself between her legs. Close. So close. His cock nudged her. This should be the extent of her duties, taking care of her mates’ cocks.
“You will never have to do that again,” he promised.
Her eyes found his. “But I’m good at it.”
He rubbed his cock all along her labia, stopping just short of penetration. He was trying to be patient. Trying to prove he wasn’t an animal. Perhaps she’d been too far gone to see his killing spree, to witness his dark power. “You’re good at this. Good at making us want you.”
She laughed a little. “All men want a woman. Even I know that, Lach.”
“I’ve only ever wanted you.”
Her smile turned slightly sad and she cupped his face in her hands. “Of course you have. And I only wanted you. What does it say that I only ever wanted a dream?”
“I’m not a dream, a chumann.” He was more of a nightmare, but it no longer mattered. She was too close, and he had to have her. He would protect her. He would be a barrier against the harshness of his world, but he would have her. She’d been promised to him. If he was half a man, he would walk away, but he would take her as his comfort for all he’d sacrificed.
He’d do everything he could to make up for the fact that she’d married a monster. He would be her monster.
“You’re my dream.” She turned to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. It was a submissive gesture of pure acceptance. Her legs were open, spread wide to accept him. Her eyes were focused on his. Every reason to wait faded away.
He could feel her heat. His cock was surrounded by it. Her pussy was slick with the juice of her orgasms. Cream coated him as he thrust against her labia.
“Bron, are you sure?” He didn’t know why he was asking or what he would do if she said no. But he had to ask. He loved her so much. His whole life had been about wanting her, loving her. He had to know he was welcome.
“Lachlan, please. I’ve waited so long. Too long. Let me have this before the after.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he understood the word please. He could never deny her. He let the fever have its way. The need to mate was a rolling churn in his gut.
Lach laid his body on hers, holding not an ounce of his weight off. He sank into her. Chest to chest. Belly rubbing belly. Legs tangling. He touched his nose to hers—a sweet little turn of his face. He nuzzled her, savoring the sensation. Thirty long years without her. Thirty long years trapped in his body without her to share himself with. This was what he’d longed for. To be here, coupled to his soul’s mate, the woman who bridged the halves of himself.
His mind sought hers. It was there, the connection between them that existed because of the day she’d died. He grasped it. It wasn’t the full bond, but he could strengthen it. He let his desire flow. He let her know what he wanted.
Her tied up. Her at his mercy. Her round ass pink from his discipline. Her pussy weeping for his cock.
“Yes. Yes.” Her lips hovered under his.
He kissed her, surging into her mouth. Her tongue curled around his. She softened under him, her legs cradling his hips.
One little thrust and he would be inside her. He would be where he’d wanted to be for thirty years.
He kissed her one last time and then pulled himself up, shifting his hips and poising his cock at her entrance. His eyes came up. Shim was behind Bron, his body cradling hers. Their eyes met, a long look between them. Shim was here with him. The two halves of his whole complete through this woman.
He thrust up gently.
Tight. She was so tight. Her pussy was wet, but it seemed so small.
“Don’t stop.” Bron was biting her lip. “I want this. Don’t let me go without knowing this.”
She wasn’t going anywhere without him. He shifted his hips, his dick a huge presence in her vir
gin pussy. She gasped and strained, trying to accept him. The little sounds she made went straight to his cock, swelling him further.
He pressed in, needing to get deep.
“Softly.” His other half was right there. Shim had always been there, but now he felt closer than ever, able to access the other side of his soul.
Lach leaned back over, kissing her lips. “Let me in, a chumann.”
My darling. My sweetheart.
Her arms drifted around his neck, her ankles locking around his waist. She relaxed. “You’re already inside me, Lachlan.”
He was. One firm push and he drove deep. Shim grimaced and then Lach felt it. Shim had taken her pain and shared it with Lach. The bastard. Flesh tore and swelled and stretched to accommodate his too-big cock, but Bron had felt only pleasure, the pure joy of his cock sliding home.
She shook slightly, her eyes drifting closed.
“Don’t. Look at me. Be with me.” He couldn’t stand the thought that she would think of anyone else.
Stark brown eyes held him. “I’m always with you.”
Always.
“Don’t stop. Please, Lachlan.”
He pulled out, every inch a deep drag on his cock. So good. She felt so good. Perfect. This was sex. This was making love. This was only possible with Bronwyn. He’d waited and his joy was boundless. The waiting had been worth it because this was everything he’d hoped for.
Every muscle in his body felt alive. He foraged back in, gaining ground. Pull out. Push in. An inch here. An inch there. Almost and then he sighed and finally sank in to his balls.
Heat surrounded him.
Bronwyn groaned. “Yes. It feels so good.”
She was feeling his pleasure. He pushed it outward, instinct guiding him. “You feel so good. This is how I feel, love. This is what you make me feel.”
And he felt everything. Shim had relented a bit, allowing her feelings to flow through the room. She was stretched, the feeling not quite comfortable, but she loved it. She was full where before she’d been so empty. She loved being surrounded by them, loved the fact that there was no part of her they weren’t touching. She’d been so alone. He’d had Shim, but she’d been alone and she’d needed them. Those long years when they hadn’t been able to feel each other had stretched out, a desert plain she’d been forced to cross.