Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

“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 the 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 d

id 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.