Threesomed 2

by New Dawning Books

  Dearg’s hand covered her own. She startled, her gaze colliding with his.

  “You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.”

  “I have not,” she snapped too quickly. “I’m merely feeling a little ill.”

  “Then you should sit down.” He led her to a chair. She went reluctantly. He knelt before her. “Now, beloved Siobhan.” Her chest tightened. “Tell me what is really wrong. I will not be lied to again, without taking extensive measures.”

  She hated the suspicion in his eyes. How had he become so adept at reading her moods?

  She exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she held, pushing away the walls closing in around her.

  “Why must you press?” she muttered. Dearg wasn’t the type to relent. Not when he got on something. He cocked his brow, stubborn line to his jaw. “So be it then. You want to know? I have come to have too much affection for you both, and this makes me uncomfortable.”

  Dearg blinked, his tongue peeking out between his lips. “Affection? We had assumed you enjoyed our company, so naturally, I do not understand the problem.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I do enjoy you being here. But this is more than just affection one has for …friends.”

  Fallon watched every minute move. “You want us both as lovers?” His curiosity was almost her undoing.

  Dearg brightened, interest spiking.

  “Oh, Goddess, help me.” She dropped her face into her hands.

  Dearg tried to pry them away, but she wouldn’t budge. “Why are you embarrassed?”

  “That is not what I meant at all!”

  Fallon’s chair skidded on the dirt floor. His heavy footfalls hit her like thunder. “Why not?”

  She lowered her hands. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You care for both of us, as we do for you. The obvious answer is to take us both as lovers. To take only one might cause strife amongst us.”

  “But I could never do that.”

  “Again,” Fallon said. “Why not? As a highborn Duchess, surely you are accustomed to the way sex is treated at court. Unless, you haven’t participated in the activities.”

  “I did for a time,” she admitted quietly. “Near the end, I separated myself from everyone.”

  Dearg cocked his head. “When was the last time you had sex?”

  She squinted, staring at the wall, as if it may provide an answer. “I do not recall.”

  He slapped his knee. “Then we shall remedy that.”

  As if the answer was that simple. She scrunched her face, trying to recall the exact moment she’d set herself up for this. “You cannot be serious.”

  Fallon nodded. “Quite. That is, if you dare.” The sparkle in his eyes charmed her.

  Dearg caressed her leg, an invitation to encourage more. “Come now, Siobhan, if you cannot remember the last time you had flesh sliding across your own then it’s overdue for a reminder. What is a little pleasure, between trusted friends?”

  Out of all the possibilities of how this would end, this was not one of her considerations. “This is ludicrous.” But, oh so tantalizing.

  “Admit you’re curious.” Fallon crossed the room, and set about removing the rabbit, hooking the smoking meat out of the flame.

  “You want to see us naked,” Dearg teased.

  He wanted to be blunt? So be it. “I have seen Fallon without his clothes.”

  He gasped, mock hurt crossing his expression. “That is not fair.”

  “Life is not fair. We just discussed that. Harden yourself to that fact.”

  He pushed to his feet, hands wandering to his breeches.

  She reeled in her chair. “What are you doing?”

  “Evening the odds, of course.”

  “Of course,” she said dryly. Then he dropped his pants, and her mouth evaporated of all moisture.

  His partially erect cock bobbed at eye level. He was well endowed, past any of her dreams she’d awoken to these past days, wedged between the two hard, strong bodies. She only had room for one bed. He raised his shirt over his head.

  She eyed the mattress by mistake.

  Dearg took this as all the invitation he needed. He swooped down to her mouth, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth.

  Oh, Goddess, save me.

  She closed her eyes and drank him in, all of him. His hands massaged her arms, his stinging kisses that moved down her throat. Fallon came up behind her, and grabbed a handful of hair, arching her neck so his lips replaced Dearg’s at her lips. Unlike their first kiss, this one was filled with untapped longing, a desperate edge that thrilled her.

  Dearg braced his arms behind her back, curving her spine on the chair. He left her floundering for a handhold, rendered helpless. Her blood heated, breath gasping in short, euphoric rushes.

  She may’ve participated in the occasional causal tryst when the urge overcame her good judgment—say, such as now—but never with more than one man. She’d witnessed or happened upon an orgy or two in her time. To be the sole focus of two luscious specimens was more than her nerve endings could bear.

  Dearg unlaced the back of her gown, and for once, she cursed that she still dressed as a noble outward in. Good fortune had stopped her from wearing petticoats that hampered her ability to hunt and garden, but at her core, she was still a lady.

  She escaped Fallon’s kiss long enough to watch Dearg take her bodice in his teeth and lower the material halfway down her silk corset. His gaze burned with lust and curiosity.

  “I do adore you, for dressing as a woman should,” he murmured, skimming his fingers over the tops of her swollen breasts. “The better to disrobe you.”

  She squeaked as he licked her collarbone, tongue dipping deep into her cleavage. He deftly untied the corset, her breath coming a little easier with each loosening, albeit not much.

  He tossed the corset behind him, his grin a wicked promise. With lithe grace, they switched places. Fallon pulled his shirt off with aching slowness, followed by his pants an inch at a time. Unlike the first time she’d seen him in a state of undress, this wasn’t hectic. No feeling of urgent danger overcame her.

  Wait. No. She was wrong there. These two men created the term danger, and their urgency infused her. Individual thought was lost. Sensation ruled.

  Fallon collapsed to his knees and spread her legs, pushing the material to her waist, grazing her inner thighs with feather light strokes. Sizzling jolts raced her pulse to her core. He kept eye contact as he leaned in, setting his teeth on her hip. Her muscles clenched, aching while he nibbled across her belly. His fingers parted her soft folds, running the pad of his finger over her clit, pushing up to find a small knot of nerves that sung at his attention.

  She slung her head back, resting against Dearg’s stomach. He kneaded her breasts, tweaking the hard nipples. Her lips parted, a ragged groan torn from her mouth.

  Breath hitching, Fallon licked her clit, an exploratory endeavor. He growled low in his throat, going in for another slow, leisurely pass. Then, the initial discovery over, he sucked the soft flesh into his mouth, rolling his tongue over and over again.

  Too startled to scream, she writhed. Dearg chuckled darkly. “There is good reason for his nickname.”

  She’d agree, if her mind would permit an entire word to form. Her hand burrowed in all that blue-black hair that cascaded over her legs, a sensuous curtain. She damned near crawled out of her own skin as waves of pleasure shook her body. He lifted her thighs over his shoulders, banding his arm over her abdomen, pinning her to the chair. Only then, had she remembered how to scream. Long, shrill, wordless pleas.

  She clawed Dearg’s hips, his erection pressing the back of her neck, reminding her of a purpose, a half thought. She needed to be filled, any way she could get them. She tipped her head, gripping the base of his thick, straining cock. She licked a fine line across the rim, sliding the tip into her mouth, and then swallowing half of his length.

  The liquefied ecstasy became too much.

  Dearg groaned a
s she hooked her ankle around Fallon’s back, poising herself over the back of the chair. She straightened her body, better for him to slide down her throat. He stroked himself with her mouth, tongue and light grazing of teeth.

  The orgasm slammed her, a tidal wave of trembling inner muscles and fluid heat. Fallon rose from his avid attentions. Through feel alone, she tracked him. He glided the head of his cock against her soaked folds, separating the flesh as he pushed inside. She squirmed as her underused body sang with relief. He stretched her, putting her through her paces, until she was filled to the brim with all that was Fallon.

  As he plunged deep, her hips jerked, creating a searing rhythm punctuated by Dearg moving in perfect sync. Every time Dearg thrust, Fallon withdrew. The sensation rocked her senses.

  Her womb clenched, the tails of the orgasm still throwing sparks through her blood stream, as the next began to crest. Fallon thickened inside of her, the last bit of friction she needed to throw herself off the precipice. Her throat tightened around Dearg. He cried out as he came mere seconds before Fallon. Never had she felt such resounding joy, mutual pleasure in the taking and giving of sex.

  She collapsed against the chair, Dearg draped over her upper body, Fallon resting against her heaving chest. Her heart thundered, blood roared in her ears, a soft, lazy smile turning the ends of her lips into an elf’s smile.

  Chapter Six

  She awoke in a tangle of arms, soaked to the bone in warmth. This hadn’t come as a surprise to her. The shock, she was quite naked.

  She sat up, Fallon’s arm dropping to her lap. She blushed at the placement. She looked around her one room cottage. The natural fire had long died out. The early morning light streamed through the only two windows. Her golden skin sparkled with luminescence in a way only a Sidhe’s skin would.

  What had jostled her from a sound sleep? Shaking out her long hair, she carefully disengaged her limbs from the lightly snoring men. They murmured unintelligibly. She chuckled.

  After dressing in a short pale green dress with brown threading along the arms, she braided her hair. Time to set about the morning’s work. The sky was dotted with succulent white clouds crawling over the sun’s butter yellow rays.

  She picked off the browning leaves from her front garden as tiny Pixies fluttered to and fro. A doe grazed just outside her gate. The chickens she’d cooped at the back wall clucked, heads bobbing as she tossed them a handful of oats to keep them busy, while she collected enough eggs for breakfast.

  “Well, well, fancy seeing you all the way out here,” a velvety voice cut through her solitude.

  Now she knew. She’d awoken because of something breaching her ward. How stupid of her.

  Her spine jackknifed. Garbhan stared across the stone wall. Given that the ground on his side was lower, they stood eye level. Six Knights arranged in a strict V formation behind him, held their swords at the ready.

  She darted to the rack, and pulled her sword, built to suit her hand, the weight perfectly balanced as she held the blade out in front of her. She didn’t dare call to the men, and risk exposing them.

  “I knew it,” Garbhan hissed. “Siobhan, did you honestly believe I would be fooled with your glamour?”

  “You were,” she snapped.

  “Ahh, to all of my senses, except smell. You should’ve paid better attention. I am a master hunter, tracker. It may’ve taken me a few moments to make the connection, after you had disappeared into the forest. Yours is a unique combination of sex and magick that no other can compete with. That uniqueness makes you easy to track.” To demonstrate, his nostrils flared, dragging in a long breath. He slammed his meaty fist on his chest. “But in here, I will know you anywhere. You dared to run from your duty? What gave you the right?” He sniffed again. “Was there someone else?”

  “Who else would there be, for a willing exile like myself?” Siobhan sneered, every ounce of contempt she’d hid at court showed on her face. The Captain jerked. “Just as I hated you when I left, I want nothing to do with you now. Get off my land. I am within my rights as an exile I have a home outside of the Seelie court.”

  “You were under dictation of your Queen, when you fled. You are a lawbreaker.”

  She laughed. “I celebrate no Queen, or ever will again.”

  The Captain hooted in triumph. Unease gripped Siobhan, as her gaze darted frantically around the forest. Magick rippled in the air, and a slight white robed figure stepped through a glimmering portal. A pungent aroma of roses and spring hung between them. Head bowed, the immense presence threatened to choke her.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “I did,” the female said. A pale hand appeared through the tiny slit between the panels of the robbing. She waved dismissively. “You are right in assuming her a traitor to the crown, and she shall be punished accordingly.” The relish in the proclamation turned Siobhan’s stomach. “Take her into the forest, and teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget. Then bring her back to the court in chains. Should the crown feel charitable, the Queen may force her into her predestined fate. If not, she shall be given over to the Knights, to do with what they will for the rest of eternity.”

  The white robed figure turned away. A ripple in the air signified the figure was about to leave.

  “I’m not your only enemy, Druantia O’hUallachain. Show your face to me, wretched Queen of the light. If you dare,” Siobhan jeered. “I am a high born, and if you think they won’t revolt against you, for handing over a noble to be raped then you have sorely misjudged your own people.”

  A snarl escaped the glistening white hood. The Seelie Queen threw back the covering. “You celebrate no court. You are of nobility no longer.” She jerked her angular chin toward the Knights. “They bear witness to your statement. You will be forsworn to your family’s heritage the moment you reenter my kingdom, as a traitor to the crown. No one will question my judgment.”

  Siobhan opened her palm, summoning a spell she never thought to use. Dark magick is to invite karma and fate to your door, to risk angering the Goddess herself. But, by that same Goddess, she would not become the Knights’ whore. Not this day, or any other.

  Even if she had to die to see it so. She lobbed the sickly red ball of magick at the Queen. The bitch grabbed the closest Knight, and threw him in the spell’s way. He fell to the ground in convulsions. His skin shrunk against his skeleton, as the Queen and Captain stared in horror.

  Siobhan had been never one to do something halfway.

  “You dare…” The Queen’s voice trembled, her arm shook as she pointed across the wall.

  “Redundant point, Druantia. Past tense. I dared. If not for the power of the royal house behind you, you’re no match for me. And you know it.” Siobhan straightened to her full height. She had shaken them so badly, they hesitated. She turned and ran, to get them away from the cottage before Fallon and Dearg woke from the commotion.

  Hand planted on the far wall, she catapulted herself over. She was fast, but the Knights were faster. Thick on her heels, she weaved through trees, narrowly missing arrows.

  A portal opened with furious intensity less than a foot in her trajectory, not giving her the time to swerve or stop, as she crashed into the Queen’s arms. The moment they touched, her limbs failed her.

  “You might outdo me in many areas, Siobhan MacCongail, but I have the ability to tap into dead Seelie Kings and Queens, as is my right.”

  Siobhan growled. “That is a sign of a weak figurehead.” She hated failure, more than she hated the woman who gripped her. She whispered a charm underneath her breath and sent the bit of invisible magick zinging through the air. The power was so slight, the Queen so arrogant, she didn’t notice.

  * * * *

  Fallon stared at the dust motes floating in the summer rays drifting in the window. The silence only broke with the rhythmic tune of Dearg’s snoring that worsened when he rolled onto his back.

  He waited for Siobhan to return. Every morning, she got up long before either of them
. She kept busy, no matter the time of day. The livestock required tending, or she’d be found in her abundant garden, weeding away into oblivion, humming a pleasant tune.

  The dust motes sparkled gold, and he scrambled from bed. The moment he had, the charm leapt at his presence. Siobhan had left messages for him before when she’d gone for walks, or to hunt without them.

  A sense of dread came over him, as the dust motes rearranged themselves into shining words.

  The Knights came. The Queen has ordered my capture. They do not know you are here. Run.

  He pivoted, and kicked Dearg in the ribs. “Get up. Siobhan’s been taken.”

  Dearg groaned, rolled over. “Taken where?” he mumbled.

  “By the Queen’s Knights.”

  He tossed the blanket aside, jumped to his feet and charged, naked as the day he was born. “Where?”

  “I do not know.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I just did. She sent a missive charm, telling us to run.”

  “Fuck that. We’re not abandoning her.”

  Fallon studied his friend. “You know we could get dragged back to court,” he said. “I won’t blame you, if you run. I will look for her myself.”

  His hands fisted at his side. A fine tremor worked along his arms, as his pupils shifted into serpent slits. “You question my loyalty to Siobhan?”

  “No. Merely pointing out facts.”

  Dearg stormed past Fallon as he dressed.

  He shook his head. “Put some clothes on, Dearg. We have a search to make.”

  Skin flashing a deep red, Dearg refused to stop. “I’ll take to the skies. You take the ground. Bring to swords.”

  Fallon rushed to shove his feet into his thin-soled shoes. He darted out of the house, as Dearg was amidst the shift. A dragon trice the size of cottage took his place, golden claws slashing at the air. His lemon yellow chest puffed, as fire burst from his razor-filled mouth. A roar that deafened anyone in a mile radius shook the trees. Black barbed tail swiped the ground, tossing dirt and grass in a small tornado. His hind legs tensed as he pushed off, forty-foot wingspan lifting him into the air, tearing off treetops in his wake.