Chapter 8 #2
I lean in and whisper, “So, who’s the better kisser?”
That damn giggle bursts free from her again, and I nearly lose it.
“I’m not answering that. I think I might have to do it again to be sure.”
“One kiss from each of us, and you’re already starved,” I tease her. “But if the lady insists, then my lips are yours.”
“How would you like us, Princess? We’re at your mercy,” Dean adds, his voice coarse and gruff.
“I’ve never done anything like this,” she whispers nervously. “This is kind of insane.”
We give her space to think for a second, and she stands to her feet, her foot tapping the ground.
I take the opportunity to scan down her body, over every curve of her hips and every inch of her flushed skin.
Her shoulders soften, and she twirls, meeting our eyes with a sultry smile on her lips. Hesitantly, she steps toward me.
I throw my leg back over the bench and face her as she strides forward. She straddles my legs and slides onto my lap, throwing her arms around my neck.
Holy heaven.
“Can I kiss you?” she whispers, her warm breath hitting my lips.
Arousal floods my system, somehow more intensely than before.
She’s going to be my ruin.
“Baby, you can do whatever you want with me.” I can barely get the words out before our kiss takes over, more feral and desperate.
I can tell she was holding back, but that timidness is fading with each second she spends in my arms.
My hands grip her waist as I slip my tongue into her mouth, rocking my hips up against her, eliciting the most delicious moans.
She kisses me harder, like a new side of her is unfurling, blossoming in the safety of our little gazebo.
The shy, innocent-looking princess is coming out of her shell.
Snaking one of my hands up her back, I slide my fingers into her hair and tug slightly. She gasps, her head tipping back and her kiss breaking from mine. I lift my hips into hers, a breathy gasp leaving her that makes my dick twitch.
More. More. More. I need more with her, and I’m not sure if anything will ever be enough.
Dean stands up and moves behind her, cupping her face with his hands, as I taste her neck, only leaning back to watch her look up at him with a smile.
Bending at the waist, he kisses her upside down, cradling her head in his hands. His tongue swipes against hers, and her back arches.
Their kisses deepen, and as they rock against one another, she grinds against me.
My cock throbs in my pants as I groan, “Jesus Christ, you are too good.”
I want to undress her right here. Feel her fully against me. I want to cup her breasts, suck on them, flick them with my tongue, and make her cry out for me, for us. But I don’t want to push her or move faster than she’s ready for.
Dean’s mask starts to shift up his face, moving completely off his eyes as they lose themselves in one another. He angles himself, moving to her side to right their kiss.
Her hands find his hair, and my hands explore her body. Up her waist, her hips, around her neck, and in her blonde-and-blue waves. I can’t get enough. Neither of us can. I want to brand her with our names, claim her as ours in front of everyone else in the world.
“Oh my God.” Her voice is breathy and uneven.
He kisses her through her declaration, and she matches his passion once more before they drift apart.
Reaching up, I tilt her head back to me, pulling her mouth to mine with her eyes still closed.
“You are driving us crazy, Princess.” I barely recognize my desperate, ragged voice.
She giggles, but not the innocent, sweet kind. The dirty-girl kind, where she knows exactly what she’s doing to us.
Her breathing is uncontrollable, and she sits up to catch her breath, staring straight down into my eyes, hers shifting between each of mine.
“Your eyes are so pretty,” I tell her, and her already-reddened cheeks somehow darken. “Clearly, you aren’t told that enough.”
“Never from someone who looks like you guys.” She bites down on her lip and smiles.
A sadness flashes in her eyes, a heaviness I know very well. But I hate seeing it on her. She should only ever smile, feel joy and happiness. I—no, we—will rid this world of anything that causes her distress.
My gaze flicks up to Dean, who’s playing with his mask in his hand, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s replaying their kiss—I can practically see the movie in his eyes.
Princess follows my gaze, turning her head and looking up at Dean.
She sucks in a sharp breath, her entire body turning to stone.
Does she recognize him?
Her eyes flick back to me, shock and terror in her blue orbs. She looks back to Dean, who’s now staring at her with concern and furrowed brows.
She scurries off my lap as fast as she can, backing up until her back hits the other side of the gazebo, muttering something under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, his face contorted with worry. “Are you okay?”
Her blush pales, and her eyes widen like she’s seen a ghost. “Y-you’re Dean Kensington.”
“Yeah?” he stammers.
Her gaze falls to me. “And that would make you … Asher Kensington. Shit.”
I nod, standing to my feet. “Is that o-okay?”
Her hands fly to her face. “Oh God.”
Slowly, like I’m approaching a wild animal, I walk over to her with Dean beside me until only a couple of feet remain between her and us.
I try to console her, unsure of why our identities are freaking her out so much. Honestly, I think we assumed she knew already. “Hey, it’s okay. Just talk to us.”
The heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard draws out of her.
“I-I can’t,” she whispers painfully, her hands dragging down her mask and face, now contorted in anguish.
“We can help. What’s wrong? You just have to tell us,” Dean assures her, reaching out and taking her hand. “We’ll help you.”
She smiles sorrowfully up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “You really, truly can’t. No matter how much I wish you could.” She pauses, taking my hand in her empty one. “I’m sorry. I should go.” When she glances up at me, sadness fills her eyes.
Her heartbreak strikes my heart more painfully than I’d have expected, cutting deep into my chest.
“Wait, you can’t just leave,” I beg her.
The bubble around the three of us bursts at once when a deep, angry voice cuts through the safety of our private moment.
“Dean! Asher! Where the hell are you?”
Our father.
“Wait here. We can talk,” Dean tells her, quickly kissing the back of her fingers. “We just have to get rid of him. But we’ll be back.”
She nods slowly, a war brewing behind her eyes. “O-okay.”
“Okay? Good! Stay here. It’ll just be a minute.” I lean in and kiss her forehead, breathing her in deeply. Her scent floods me, notes of freesia and honey.
Dean kisses her hand once more before turning on his heel and running out of the gazebo. I trail right behind him, wanting to avoid drawing attention to her from our father.
We meet him around the hedge corner, royally pissed off to an entirely new level.
“You missed dinner. Missed photos. We’ll discuss that later.” Disappointment rolls off of him. “Fireworks are in less than five minutes. Do not—I swear to God, boys—do not be late. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” we both answer a bit too enthusiastically, eager to get back to our girl.
Fireworks start exploding above us, making me nearly jump out of my skin. My father curses and takes off, muttering something about them going off too early.
“Good.” He turns and storms off the way he came, throwing orders at Maria and his assistant.
We don’t waste a second running back to the gazebo, to our girl waiting inside. We race across the stone walkway, and around the gazebo.
“Sorry. We just had to get rid of him …” I mutter, but my words fall away when I reach the opening and look inside.
It’s empty.
Glancing under the bench, as if she were possibly hiding behind a leg the width of a few inches, I sigh, my heart tightening in my chest.
“Fuck!” Dean curses with anguish. “We were gone for two seconds.” Defeat sinks into his shoulders, and he plops down onto the bench, dropping his head in his hands. “This place is a damn maze if you don’t know it well. How did she even find her way out?”
I run my hands through my hair, my chest throbbing uncontrollably as I find a seat at his side. “I don’t know, man. But we’ll find her.”
“We have to.” He sighs. “We’ll figure out who she is and why the hell she was so scared when she found out who we were.” Dean sits up. “Whatever it is, we’ll protect her. She’s ours now.”
Pushing to my feet, I offer him my hand. “Ours.”