by Sienna Blake
“Sorry, not sorry.”
“Cheeky. Give it back.”
“Take it off me.”
I let out a low growl.
She grins. “If it means you end up shirtless, I should do it more often,” she whispers, before fanning herself.
I let out a snort.
“What are you two kids chortling about?” Jace asks, hands on hips.
Chortling? Way and I meet each other’s eyes and burst out into laughter.
“Sorry, Ma,” I say, ribbing Jace.
“You two better—”
“You better keep your eyes on your pancakes or they’ll burn,” X says.
Jace lets out a curse and turns back to the stove.
“You can keep it,” I say to Way. “You look hot as fuck in my shirt.”
The blush I coax from her creamy skin is worth it.
I slide into one of the breakfast stools on the far side of the island and glance around at the four of us, the two men I feel closest to, my brothers in arms if not in blood. And the woman whom we all love.
Love.
Yes, I realise. I love her. Just like Jace loves her. And X does too in his own way.
“Have you told her we’re leaving tomorrow?” X asks quietly from beside me, pushing a cup of black liquid at my elbow.
It’s as if the bloody man can read my thoughts. “No, not yet.”
He bristles. “You need to tell her.”
“Tell her what? That this might be the last time that we’re all together?” I look back to Jace flicking pancake batter on a giggling Way. “No. She deserves one more day of blissful ignorance.”
Maybe…just maybe, a three-way relationship would work.
If we survive the next few days.
Waylyn
It’s an unusually fine day, not a cloud in the sky. So the four of us grab blankets and Jace packs a picnic. We walk across the fields to the forest area nearby, me between Magnar and Jace, X bringing up the rear.
“We won’t get lost, will we?” I ask as the forest grows dense around us.
Jace snorts. “Have you not met our walking GPS here?” he asks, pointing back at X.
I fall back to walk alongside X and notice him slowing down to meet my gait.
Magnar and Jace’s long strides mean that they are soon well ahead of us.
“You come out here often?” I ask X, hoping he’ll reveal more about himself. My mysterious X. The one who makes me work to get any morsel of information from him.
He nods.
Yes, I can imagine X out here, alone with nature. He seems more comfortable without people around. I think he might only stay in the city because Magnar needs him there. If Magnar were to ever let X leave their family, X might be absorbed into these woods, never to be seen again.
For a few moments, I think he won’t speak and that I’ll have to pry harder to get any information out of him.
Then he starts to talk. “The boundary of this property extends well past where we’re walking to.”
His voice is low and gravelly so I have to strain to hear him over the rustle of dried leaves and acorns underneath my feet.
“I know every inch of this land. Know it as if it were my home.” X points out the birch and ash among the oak tree forest, their distinctive curly leaves and acorns dominating the forest. He tells me that the trees in the undergrowth with their fierce red berries are called Rowan. “They’re one of my favourites,” he explains quietly. “Their violent red so out of place among the green.”
I reach for his hand and lace my fingers with his firmly so he can’t pull away. “They’re one of my favourites, too. Because they’re different. Just like we are.”
A touch of surprise widens his eyes, before he nods. His fingers squeezing mine. “Here,” he says, breaking the heaviness of the moment. He points to a tree with feathery leaves and rough bark. “It’s a rare thing to find an elm here.” He brushes his hand lovingly along the coarse bark. “They used to be more plentiful until the Dutch elm disease wiped most of them out in this area.”
“But this one is still here despite the odds, still growing strong,” I say, suddenly realising why X gave me my nickname.
“Yes, she is.”
When I look back at him, X is looking at me, the intensity in his eyes spearing through me. I take a step in towards him, managing to trip and smack into his chest.
He grabs me by the arms so I don’t fall.
God, I need his touch. Need him. I curl my fingers into his shirt and press my lips to his before he can push me away.
In a second, I’ve been slammed up against the elm, X’s fingers like chains around my arms. His kiss is violent, fury and pent-up aggression. His hips grinding his already rock-hard cock against me.
I want more of it. “Yes,” I hiss as he tears his mouth away to kiss and bite down my body, pushing clothing aside, pleasure and pain intertwining in a beautiful dance within me.
I am already soaking when he tugs down my jeans, popping the top button, bringing my panties along with it. He doesn’t bother getting them off my feet, material is roped around my ankles.
X attacks my pussy with his tongue and lips and teeth. It’s like he’s starving. His fingers push into my body without lead-up, adding to the violent pleasure.
I don’t need a lead-up. My whole fucking life has been a lead-up.
I let out a curse, my head knocking back along the coarse bark, eyes rolling back into my head. The whole world shrinks to his talented tongue and his thick fingers, demanding my pleasure, determined to rip every last shred of it from me.
“Jesus, slow pokes. Where d’ye get—?” Magnar calls out.
My eyes snap open. Over X’s head I can see Magnar standing there watching us. He watches X for a few seconds before his eyes lift to meet mine.
X doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps assaulting my pussy, the pressure in me growing with every second, tension tightening at Magnar’s eyes on us.
Magnar takes a step back, resignation and hurt on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
I reach out for him with one hand even as I grip into X’s hair even tighter.
Stay, please. I need you.
Magnar’s eyes widen for a split second before he strides towards us.
My thighs shake with anticipation at Magnar’s touch, with the buildup of what X is doing to me, with a dark need for both of them that should be wrong but feels so fucking right.
Magnar reaches us and grips the back of my head, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are dark with intensity, a hint of wildness and playfulness in them.
I buck against X’s mouth, my orgasm so fucking close.
“Stop,” Magnar commands.
To my frustration, X freezes, a small growl releasing from the back of his throat. He wants to finish me off, but he’s too used to playing by Magnar’s rules.
Magnar is reminding me that X doesn’t just belong to me.
No, I realise. We all belong to each other.
My breath comes out in short staggered bursts, as I try to wriggle against the elm, the bark scraping into the spaces where my flesh is bare. My eyes fixed onto Magnar even as my hands curl into X’s deceptively soft hair. “Please.” I whimper.
Magnar’s lip lifts into a half-smile. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want to come.”
I hear clinking of a belt. And I know instantly what he wants me to do.
I reach out, finding his bulge by instinct rather than sight. I unzip his jeans and push at the material. Magnar forces me to fumble without helping me, he merely cups one of my exposed breasts, lazily flicking my nipple before rolling it between his fingers, keeping me on the edge. Both Magnar and X are so patient even as I grow more frustrated, X’s tongue still not moving.
Finally, I manage to shove his jeans down over his round ass.
He’s so fucking big and hard, it makes my mouth water. But I can’t taste him while I’m being pinned up to the elm. I reach for him instead, wrapping my fingers
around him and stroke his length.
He lets out a low grunt. “Good girl.”
My strokes grow faster, firmer as his breathing gets heavier and his eyes grow dazed with lust. Watching his heavy lids flutter, the way his large chest heaves, feeling his cock swelling in my hand, knowing what I’m doing to him fills me with power.
Magnar lets out a curse, his cum spilling out over my hand, flicking across the bark.
I let out a cry, my release so fucking close.
“X,” Magnar says.
X curls his fingers to press at my g-spot, at the same time his tongue presses flat against my clit before flicking side to side.
I come hard. I come violently. My vision goes to stars and my body to dust.
As the pleasure subsides, I feel myself being lifted into a pair of strong arms. I smell X’s earthy scent, so like the forest we’re in, and that hint of mint.
“We need Jace, too,” I hear X say.
I let out a whimper. Yes, X is right.
We need all of us.
I need all of them.
Just like they all need me.
X breaks me open. Unleashes me.
Jace soothes me. Cares for me.
Magnar commands me. Owns me. Just like I own him.
They all heal me. Just like I heal them.
I don’t want to choose one. I can’t. The choice would kill me, rip my soul into pieces. Because they each own a part of me while owning all of me at the same time.
Jace has set up camp on a grassy bank along a river. The spot is nestled in a small valley, the mountain continuing up the other side, trimmed with forest before revealing a bald grass and rock top.
It always amazes me how quickly the landscape can change in this country, from lush dense forest to wild rocky plains. The land is moody and can turn on a dime, just like the weather.
Jace spins towards us as we trample towards him. A smirk lifts his face as he sees the state of my undress, the lust gauzy over my features. “I was about to send a search party. Thought you guys might have found a spot of trouble. I guess I was right.”
“All the good kinds of trouble,” Magnar says. “Lay her in there.”
I’m not sure what Magnar’s talking about until X lays me into a small netted swing, a kind of hammock, someone—X, most likely—has fastened to a sturdy branch above.
The three men close around me, tugging off their clothes as they go, until they’re a circular wall of naked, hard muscle.
Oh God, this is really happening.
Their hands reach in to touch me as I reach out to touch them.
If I thought I was sated by that orgasm, I was wrong. It was a sampler. The first course.
My body heats up with need as I’m stripped, totally and utterly stripped, down to my skin, down to my soul. Until there is nothing left between us. We are all as vulnerable and humble as the day we were born.
Fingers run through my hair, the backs of my thighs, my aching slit. Lips and tongues follow like pebbles skittering across my skin, tasting and biting me. It’s utterly overwhelming and total bliss.
The rest of the world falls away. I am no longer Waylyn, orphan girl hunted by her vicious ex-fiancé. We are just a mass of pure want, acceptance and love.
I’m aware that I’m muttering incoherently, my head shaking back and forth. I need more. Need to be filled.
“X,” Magnar says.
The swing turns and I open my eyes to see X positioning himself at my pussy entrance, hooking my legs up at his shoulders. He slides in all the way without warning. The depth of him coupled with the width of him is overwhelming, almost painful. He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath before he slams into me. I rock in the swing, halted suddenly by hands at my shoulders.
Magnar and Jace. They’re holding me in place so X can fuck me harder.
And fuck me…he does.
He’s relentless, unyielding. Wild and feral, just like my beautifully broken X. He has me crying out for more, even as I grit my teeth at the edge of pain, and bucking against him. My pussy tightens around him. But something is holding me back.
Jace’s hands stroke my hair. “It’s okay, doll, there’s no one around for miles to hear you. Let it go.”
X’s fingers dig into my hips as he releases a series of curses, his hips almost breaking me open as he speeds up.
“Come for him,” Magnar commands. “For us.”
Something releases in me; the last of the hesitation that what we’re doing is wrong, that I might somehow be letting Magnar down by not choosing at all. It releases like a balloon to the sky.
At the same time, X reaches between my thighs and—smack—
Pain bursts like a firework on my clit, my body shakes and I let out a feral howl as I come around X’s cock.
I feel him spend himself inside of me, his masculine grunts mixing with my cry. Then he allows my legs to slide off him as he backs away.
I want a moment to catch my breath. But the boys won’t let me.
The swing spins again and this time it’s Jace between my legs.
Yes, I need Jace. After that violent release, I need to be touched like a delicate thing.
Jace doesn’t disappoint. His hands smooth over my body, tender and with a touch of sweetness the way only Jace can.
Magnar’s face appears upside-down in my vision. “You all right, Way?”
I nod, a giggle bursting from my mouth. More than okay. I reach up for Magnar’s cheek and pull him down to kiss me, our lips locking perfectly even at this angle.
Jace eases into my pussy, causing me to moan around Magnar’s tongue.
Magnar pulls back. “I need your mouth, baby.”
God, yes. I reach for Magnar’s erect cock as he stands, my mouth watering.
Finally, my lips touch the end of his cock, a salty taste of precum in my mouth as I swirl my tongue around.
Magnar’s groans mix with Jace’s. I wrap my heels around Jace’s waist, pulling him in deeper.
The two of them rock me back and forth in the swing. Jace’s cock running in and out of the length of my pussy as Magnar’s dick slides in and out of my throat. It’s a perfect hypnotic rhythm, one that grows steadier in pace until Jace is thrusting hard, sending me flying deeper and deeper onto Magnar’s cock.
The movement mirrors the waves of pleasure rocking up and down my body. I tighten around both of them, pressure coiling inside of me once again. I feel Jace spend himself in me, his thrusts growing deep and hard, even as his hands hold me like I’m breakable.
I didn’t think I could come. But I do, again.
I’m a shivering limp mess when the swing spins again.
“Stay with me, Way,” Magnar commands.
I feel his hand on my cheek, pulling me up to a sitting position in the hammock, his cock positioned at my entrance. I smile at him through my sexual haze, clinging onto his neck and turning my head to kiss his fingers smelling of my sex.
“You think you can handle me?” he asks. “We don’t have to—”
I hook my heels around the backs of his thighs and pull myself onto his length.
He lets out a hiss as I settle around the base of him, need growing again.
Magnar fucks me slowly at first, kissing me deeply and sliding his hand between us to play with my clit, setting my body on fire.
All the while I feel Jace and X’s eyes on me. Watching. Egging us on. Taking part in our pleasure just as we took part in theirs.
When I start to shake in his arms, need consuming me again, only then does he speed up.
“Oh fuck,” he says as he comes inside me taking me with him, and it sounds like a prayer.
Jace and X come to stand on either side of me, their hands on my back, in my hair, with me as I come down off this high, here to catch me softly when I land.
In some ways, it is our holy communion. This—Magnar, me, Jace, X.
This is my blood.
This is my body given to you.
We are all b
roken pieces, but together we are whole.
We are family.
We found home.
X
The four of us eat lunch in various states of undress, then lie by the water, Waylan’s head on Magnar’s lap, her feet on Jace, her eyes on me.
We return to the safe house, driven away from the riverside by the incoming deluge. We’re soaked by the time we crash into the safe house, but it’s just another excuse to peel the wet layers off us and tumble into bed before breaking for dinner.
That night, we lie exhausted—Magnar, Waylyn, Jace and me. I am worn out just having a third of Waylyn. I can’t believe that she was able to keep up with us. Not only keep up, but she seems insatiable, wanting more and more, again and again with each orgasm we give her.
How could this tiny woman hold so much love?
She has love even for me…the most unlovable of us.
I wait until the sounds of deep breathing fill the room before I climb out of bed, trying hard not to wake anyone, the thousand-thread-count sheets feeling like sandpaper against my skin. Too soft, too good for the likes of me.
“X?” Waylyn’s voice calls through the room.
I inwardly sigh. Of course, my little elm would be waiting for my nightly routine. “I’m not going far. Go back to sleep.” I take the spare blanket and pillow from the chair where I left them the night before and lay them out at the foot of the bed before lowering myself to the hard yet oddly comforting ground.
It feels…right again. Sort of. They belong up there. I belong here like a dog at their feet.
Waylyn’s face appears over the end of the bed before she slips out and joins me.
I sigh, even as I welcome her into my arms. “What are you doing here, elm?”
“Where you go, I go,” she says resolutely.
Her tone tells me I won’t shift her.
I hear movement and a second face appears at the edge of the bed. It’s Jace. He spots the two of us on the floor and climbs out of bed too. He lays himself on Waylyn’s other side, the two of us having to shift to accommodate him on the pillow.
Magnar’s face appears over the edge of the bed. He blinks at us.