Chapter 32 The Gentle Beasts
THE GENTLE BEASTS
EMERY
It’s quiet when I wake up. Peaceful. My heart isn’t racing.
There isn’t a sheen of fear coating my skin.
When my eyes open, I don’t have an instinct to be on guard.
To survive. Even in the fading moonlight of early morning, I can see them.
So clearly. I can feel them. Cocooning me.
Shielding me from harm. Their body heat radiates into my skin, and I find such deep comfort in their warmth.
I turn my neck to the left and let out a small, airy breath as I outline Quin’s profile, the stoic ridge of his nose, the angular sharpness of his chin. I swallow, my gaze dancing down his bare chest that rises and falls with every beautiful breath.
And then I look to my right.
The beauty never ends.
Damon lies to my right, a tempting power emanating from his resting features. I'm in awe of him, of the strength that pulses from the sculpted outline of his pecs, the rolling hills of his biceps. My core tightens with desire as I take in the sight of him.
As I lie between Quin and Damon, I feel physically trapped between the comfort and euphoria of heaven and the burning passion of hell. And I’m grateful. I am so fucking blessed that I no longer need to decide between dark and light.
I can have them both.
Have them. Hold them. Taste them. Ride them. And holy shit, do I want them. So bad. I ache for their touch. For their lips to roam my body. To claim me. To make me theirs. Now and forever.
After all the suffering we’ve experienced this last week, this last year, we all deserve to feel something beautiful, to see stars so bright that all the pain is blinded, even if it's only momentary.
I squirm a little, feeling insecure about the bubbling lust spreading through my veins.
But I push it aside, determined to embrace the connection that binds us.
I reach down to where fabric is the only thing that stands in my way of ultimate pleasure.
I don’t need a collar or rings to prove I am theirs.
That I am, both body and goddamn soul, at their mercy.
Lying on my back, I control my breathing as I stroke both their cocks, tenderly rubbing, squeezing, hoping to awaken the genies that will grant me my ultimate wish.
I start slow, deliberate, each movement a whisper of longing and bliss. The quiet cabin amplifies the needy sounds—the gentle rustle of sheets, the hushed breaths, the rhythmic pulse of my desire. I lose myself in the sensations, the warmth of their bodies, the weight of their hellish presence.
As I continue, a mountain of pleasure builds within me. Quin and Damon respond to my touch and my core clenches, soaking the pulsing space between my thighs. They grow under my ministrations, under my command to sign the words they’ve whispered, to seal their vows, to deliver the promise of unity.
Despite their tumultuous history, despite the fact that they’re so very different, there must be a connection between Damon and Quin. Their eyes snap open in unison, and I know I’ve awakened my gentle beasts.
“Good morning,” I whisper, cheeks flush with anticipation as their dark, knowing gazes seep into my pebbling skin. I lick my lips, conjuring confidence within myself before I prop up and turn around, kneeling as I hover above them. “Off.”
Quin and Damon exchange a brief look. It’s charged and tense and chock-full of years of resentment and mistrust. But they can trust me. They can let go of the past. My ribs expand, lifting my breasts as I suck in a deep, impatient breath.
“Off,” I say again, glancing down at their briefs. “Now.”
Quinton blinks and then glances at Damon, smirking. “You heard the boss, D.”
Damon’s reaction isn’t that of a charmed man; it’s one of a commander whose soldier just broke rank. “I don’t take orders, Miss Jones,” he rasps, snaking his hand down to his cock, stroking it with teasing motions. “If you want this, you’re going to have to say please.”
“Please?” I ask, feigning a pout and sultry voice. “Sir.”
Damon expels a low growl, eyes hardening. “Your tone leaves much to be desired, Miss Jones.”
“Oh, come on, D,” Quinton groans, rubbing himself as he strips off his briefs. “Give her a little taste.” He tilts his head, lips puffy and red. “She deserves a lick or two.”
“C’mere,” Damon grunts, ripping away the fabric, his cock springing free.
I tentatively shuffle forward, shooting Quin a glance of approval. He nods, grinning with amusement.
“Open up, mami.” Damon rakes his fingers through my hair and pulls me toward him until I’m on all fours. My mouth opens, prepared and ready as he surges forward. “Tap if it’s too much,” he adds in a whisper and then gives me all he’s got.
With one steadying hand on his abs, I let him use me. I let him fill my mouth with every inch of him. Drool drips down my chin, my eyes watering, the taste of tears and pre-cum so deliciously salty as he thrusts back and forth, his grip on my roots tight and hard and so fucking powerful.
“You take him so well, darling,” I hear Quin rasp, and I reach out, hoping to find him, hoping to channel some of this energy coursing through my body.
But he’s not there. No longer beside me, and just as Damon slows his movements, my spine arches, and a pair of warm, wet lips, connect with my sex. “Mmm… You’re soaked, little Emery.”
A whimper escapes my lungs, my vision blurry with pleasure as Quin’s tongue darts out, flicking and teasing my clit, his lips sucking and blowing, and Jesus Christ– that mouth!
Damon’s grip relaxes, allowing me to breathe more freely, and I lick him, dragging my tongue across his shaft as a silent, dirty little thank you.
“Oh, God,” I moan, gasping for air as Quin damn near pushes me to the edge. “I’m going to…”
I shouldn’t have said anything.
Stupid.
Like a coordinated assault, Damon pulls out of me and Quin retreats, and I’m almost airborne, flying through the starry skies as they manhandle me, changing positions, until I’m face-to-face with Quin’s diamond blue eyes.
“So fucking messy,” Quin pouts, stroking the underside of my jaw. His thumb pushes back my spit-soaked hair as Damon lays a hand on the small of my back. Quin’s thumb dips through my lips, coaxing them open as he adds, “Bend over, little Emery.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I feel Damon settle behind me, the tip of his cock brushing against my swollen sex.
Quin grins down at me. “I want you to look at me, Emery. Keep those pretty eyes open, okay?”
I don’t have time to nod. I don’t even have time to fucking breathe as Damon surges forward, filling me so deep that I jerk forward right into Quin. And I take him in my mouth. I take him and show him just how badly I never want to let go.
“Good girl, mami,” Damon growls from behind, his hand slapping my ass as he slams against me, my skin stinging in the most exciting of ways. “Keep your eyes on him. Don’t you dare fucking close them.”
I damn near drown in Quin’s eyes as he stares down at me, holding my chin in place as I suck on him, as I leave nothing untouched.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Quin whispers, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to even hear it.
“You’re so fucking perfect, darling. So fucking good.
Yes.” His jaw tightens, and he throws his head back, a tiny moan slipping past his clenched teeth.
“Just like that, darling. Oh, baby, yes. Don’t stop. Just. Like. That.”
“Are you ready to come for us, mami?” Damon rasps, arching over me, his hot, balmy breath tickling my earlobe as he curls his hand under me, his fingers finding my clit.
I whimper, unable to speak as I nod my head, my muscles quivering and weak.
“Uh-oh… I didn’t hear a yes.” His chest rumbles as he chuckles, so devious and cruel. “Use your words, Emery.”
Such a bastard.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
The words come out muffled and broken and somewhat degrading as I look up to Quin for help, for support. But he’s a bastard too. He simply smirks down at me, his hips rocking in and out of my mouth, unyielding, unhelpful, and I almost want to scream from the pressure building inside me.
I squirm under Damon’s ministrations, whimpering and crying for release. And then I feel his tongue drag across my spine, and his pace quickens, his own breathing ragged and uneven.
“Now,” he growls, and I can feel him pulsing inside me. “Come for us, Emery.”
“Look at me,” Quin demands, and I’ve never really heard his voice so fucking stern.
So fucking hot. I snap my unsteady gaze up to him, obedient and hungry.
“Let go, darling,” he groans, hoarse and raspy as his thighs quiver and the universe suddenly implodes, leaving only three stars among an endless void of darkness.
Some people capture fireflies. They trap them in jars. For the beauty. To relish in their light. I wish I could capture sound. The beastly noises that fill this room, that float into my ears, that settle in my heart. I wish I could capture this moment. And relive it. Over and over and over again.
“That was…” I stare up at the wooden panels on the ceiling, my gaze following the rotating ceiling fan as I attempt to catch my breath.
“An introduction,” Damon says, shifting beside me, his sticky shoulder brushing against mine.
“We’ll ease you in,” Quin adds, swallowing as he hikes his ankle over mine, the bed sheet damp and ruffled under us.
I blink. “That was an introduction?”
Damon and Quin chuckle, their laughs vibrating the entire bed.
“We’ll take that comment under consideration,” Damon says.
I frown. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning we’ll give you what you can handle,” Quin replies.
I abruptly sit up, crossing my arms as I glare at the two bastards. “Are you implying that I can’t handle the two of you?”
Damon turns to his side and smirks, feathering his index finger up and down my thigh. “Don’t be offended, mami. Everyone’s got their limits.”
I glower at him. “Try me.”
His eyes darken. “Famous last words, Miss Jones.”
Quin chuckles, sitting up. “Leave her alone, Damon. She’ll adjust as needed.” He gives me a crooked smile. “Why don’t you go shower, darling? We’ll get started on breakfast.”
I roll my eyes, my mild irritation lingering. “Whatever.” As I stand up, two sets of heavy hands pull me back down, and I yelp. “Hey!”
Quin grins, hovering over me, Damon by his side. “Don’t be upset with us, darling,” he coos, gaze sweeping across my sated features. “We’re simply looking out for you.”
Damon licks his lips, combing his fingers through my hair. “We can’t have you starting the day on such a grumpy note.” He glances briefly at Quin. “May I?”
“Be my guest,” Quinton smirks, slowly pulling away and standing to his feet. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re…finished.”
I swallow, my pulse suddenly quickening as Quinton leaves the room, and Damon begins to slither down in between my legs. “Damon, I’m—”
“Shh,” he hushes me, curling his strong hand around the apex of my thighs.
His breath fans against my skin as I arch my back and close my eyes, readying myself for another visit to the stars.
“This won’t take long. Trust me.” His dark gaze flicks up, and my breath hitches. “I know just how you like it.”
And he does. They both do. It’s like they’ve studied me for ages.
Like I’m some sort of historical text they’ve managed to expertly translate.
And so I relax and let Damon show me just how much he knows me.
Knows my body. Knows my needs. And in that fleeting moment of pure bliss, everything feels normal.
Not dangerous. Not chaotic. But normal. And I never thought normal could feel this fulfilling, this exciting.
But the moment passes, and when I open my eyes, I know there’s nothing normal about our situation. We’re still in hiding. We’re still on edge.
But I feel safe.
I’ve got two gentle beasts to guard me.