Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

“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.