Chapter Thirty-Six #2
After the earlier chaos, we opt to take it in Darrius’s private dining room.
On a whim, I decided to invite Roshan, which I’m now thinking was a mistake, considering the two men have done nothing but stab at their plates and try to glare each other into submission.
In public, they are united. In private, however, their mutual enmity over the elephant in the room is evident.
The elephant being me.
The tension is so thick it would take an ax to cleave through it, but I am determined to find some common ground before the blades make an appearance.
Darrius had reluctantly promised not to put his magic on display, but that doesn’t stop him from sending his wicked shadows to wind around my ankles and calves under the table as if to remind me of their—and his—claim.
I almost moan when one of them grazes the overly sensitive skin behind my knee, and admonish him with a glare.
Stop, I tell him.
I can’t help it. They love you.
He knows I’d never reject them. So I resign myself to ignoring their little caresses and touches, warning Darrius with my eyes not to allow them to go higher. The mutinous, possessive look in his stare makes me sigh.
“How is the food?” I ask. “I had the royal cook prepare some dishes from Kaldari and also from Coban, as well as some authentic to Verisia.”
Both men mumble “good” at the same time.
“Such high praise,” I say with a laugh. “I’ll be sure to pass on your appreciation.”
Roshan looks up, his gaze softening. “It is delicious and very thoughtful of you, starling. Thank you.”
Darrius visibly bristles at the nickname, but I send a warning pulse of magic toward him. “Yes, thank you, wife,” he says, in a tender tone that both titillates and annoys me, mostly because he knows how cruel it is to flaunt that status in front of Roshan.
The king of Oryndhr sets down his fork to take a sip of his wine, a flicker of hurt flashing over his face before he conceals it. “It still astounds me that you are married.”
“Soul-fated,” I say softly. “We exchanged vows, but we have one more rite to complete before it is sealed.”
He opens his mouth to ask what the rite is and then snaps it shut when he sees Darrius’s smirking expression.
“If you don’t stop acting like a child this instant, I will refuse to seal this bond,” I growl at the Night King, erasing the leer from his face.
“You wouldn’t,” Darrius says.
I set my jaw. “Try me.”
We resume eating, though Roshan seems to have gained a little more vigor to his movements, and Darrius has been suitably chastened. At least enough for us to dine in less fraught silence. When the servants clear the course, dessert and sweet wine are brought in.
“Will you stay in the castle?” Roshan asks. “When we ride out to meet Anahima?”
I lift my brows, spoon arrested halfway to my lips. “Why would I?”
Darrius lets out a deprecating laugh. “She’s the Starkeeper,” he scoffs. “The most powerful magic user in all of Endara. Why would we keep her here?”
“You would put her in danger and let her fight in front of you? What if she gets hurt?” Roshan asks. “What kind of man are you?”
“One who recognizes the might of his queen,” Darrius shoots back. “And yes, she will fight beside me on the battlefield, where she belongs.”
“If you love her as you claim, wouldn’t you want to protect her? To keep her safe?”
“By suffocating her? She’s not a damsel or a weakling.”
“I never said she was,” Roshan volleys.
Darrius laughs. “That was always your problem, Acharia. You can’t shackle a creature meant to soar.”
Dead silence blankets the room at the allusion to my old bracers.
A muscle flexes in Roshan’s cheek as he stares at me with so much remorse brimming in those gold-flecked brown eyes.
“I know, you’re right.” He swallows hard and faces me.
“And I am deeply sorry I had any part in that. I will beg your forgiveness every day for the rest of my life if I have to.”
“I’ve already forgiven you, Ro,” I say softly.
He shudders visibly. “I don’t think you’re weak. You’re magnificent. What you did with Morvarid and Vogon, no one else could ever do. You saved Oryndhr. Saved me. I suppose I just want to protect you like you protected everyone else.”
“I understand,” I say. “I feel the same about you and Darrius. I want you safe, too. And the idea of either of you in danger or getting hurt is something I refuse to contemplate.” I wink at him.
“And by the same token, no, I will not remain here. I will stand between the two of you on the battleground, protecting both of your sexy but lesser asses.”
Roshan blinks owlishly at me as if trying to parse the sultriness in my voice.
“We are soul-fated,” Darrius says arrogantly, making me want to kick him. “She is meant to be at my side.”
I open my mouth, but Roshan beats me to it, a smirk spreading on his full lips. “And she chose me. I’ll always be her first love.”
“And I will be her last,” Darrius growls, shooting to his feet.
Roshan does the same. “That’s not your decision.”
Runes flaring, I stand slowly, extending my magic in silvery ribbons toward each of them. “Enough, both of you!”
Standing, they’re both of a height, towering over me, and the thought of being pressed between them makes me nearly choke and swallow a decadent whimper. If they don’t get their shit together, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.
Maybe I should.
Deliberately, I block the bond, feeling Darrius’s flicker of surprise.
I watch in my peripheral vision as my magic winds around their throats, sending other ribbons to bind their arms behind their backs and dragging them back into their seats.
Coils wrap around their wide chests and finally slide over their mouths.
Roshan’s eyes are wide with lust, while Darrius’s promise a host of retribution—the wickedest kind.
“I’m in charge now,” I say. “You speak when spoken to, and you do not move unless I command it. No magical shadows, either. You do not question your queen. Do you consent? If you don’t, I will not fault you for it.
We can pretend this never happened. But I need this, and I need both of you to cooperate.
” When they nod in turn, I remove the magical gags from their lips. “Words, please.”
“Yes,” the king of Oryndhr says huskily. “Anything, always.”
The king of Everlea’s gaze flashes black to gold and back again. “As you wish, pátnī,” he rasps.
Gratified, I put the magical muzzles back in place and take my seat. With a single thought, my dress vanishes into embers, leaving me in the lacy, barely there undergarments I wore for this purpose.
Well, perhaps not for this exact purpose.
Nostrils flaring, Darrius strains against his bonds, tattoos roiling on his skin, though obediently stays put.
Excitement lights Roshan’s eyes, his pulse pounding erratically at his neck.
Their gazes are fastened on me—one burning gold-brown starburst that promises to set me ablaze, and one bottomless obsidian abyss that vows to devour me whole.
I shake with arousal, wetness seeping between my thighs.
Gods, I’m feral for them.
I throw my head back and dance my fingertips down the column of my neck, walking them downward until they land between my breasts.
I magic away the covering, gasping as the cool air pebbles my nipples.
I feel their combined stares, sense their desire, bask in their shortened breaths, but I don’t acknowledge them.
With both hands, I pluck at the taut peaks as my arousal starts to builds.
Stars, I never thought being watched would be so provocative.
But having these two powerful kings at my mercy, mesmerized by me, is a heady feeling.
Keeping my left hand on my breast, my right wanders down the flat of my stomach to the embroidered edge of my undergarment.
A masculine groan from one end of the table echoes a grunt from the other.
I have no idea who made which sound, and I don’t care.
I’m much too focused on the swollen, soaked part of me that is desperate to be stroked.
Suddenly, without warning, the table is gone and my legs are gently spread over the arms of my chair. I gasp at the new position, and then stare at Darrius, whose expression is savage with lust.
“That’s cheating,” I tell him, fingers halting and lifting his gag.
“You said we couldn’t move,” he rumbles. “I did not. The table moved. It was blocking my view.”
I can’t fault him, considering how I wanted to demolish the table in the war room earlier. “I’ll concede this once, but only if you are both in agreement. Otherwise, this stops.”
I might die if it does stop, but rules are rules. A queen can’t be seen as a rule-breaking pushover because she craves an orgasm.
“I agree it is a technicality,” Roshan rasps out. “Removal of an obstruction.”
“Very well,” I say, hiding my smile. “But no more interference.”
I continue my teasing movements, inching over the damp lace to the gusset, where the fabric is drenched.
With one hand, I slip the seam to the side, exposing myself, my fingertip slowly dragging down the center.
I whimper as I slip through the silken wetness, my spine arching in place as sensation barrels through me.
“What shall I do?” I ask, removing the bindings from their mouths. “Tell me.”
“Circle that pretty clit,” Darrius says immediately. I do as he says and moan, almost as if it’s his hand instead of mine.
“Fuck,” Roshan groans. “Now slip a finger inside you. Tell me, how does it feel?”
I do as he says, writhing against the intrusion. “Hot, wet, like velvet.”
“Add another.” The harsh command is from Darrius. “If you’re going to take our cocks later, you need to prepare yourself.”
Our. Cocks. The gods save me . . . or not.
I groan as my fingers obey and split to stretch me.
Roshan, not to be outdone, lets out an approving sound.
“Now curl your fingers and find that spot, the one that drives you crazy. That’s it,” he says when I whine and writhe.
“Imagine us filling you in turn and hitting that place inside you with every stroke.”
“Fuck,” I gasp, imagining them having their filthy way with me to complete ruination. “Yes, please. More.”
My hands move faster, my thumb rubbing my clit as my pleasure pulses and spikes. Gods, I’m so close, I’m going to shatter.
“Stop.”
The expression on my soul-fated’s face is wicked and cruel. The breath rushes out of me as my hands falter and shudder in place. My climax is just out of reach. No.
“Darrius,” I whimper, and watch as the two kings exchange a look, one of perfect accord. My core twinges in anticipation.
“You set the rules, my queen,” Roshan says. “Now open your mouth and lick those fingers clean.”
“How does it taste?” my ruthless soul-fated asks, when I immediately do as commanded.
I wrap my tongue around my fingers, lapping up my arousal. “Sweet.”
“Good girl,” he growls, and I viscerally writhe at the husky praise in his voice. “Get every drop.”
Roshan lets out a moan when I suck hard, licking each of my fingers. “Now spread your lips for us. Let us see that pretty pussy.”
The position is so deliciously depraved I can feel the fluids trickling down my inner thighs. “Please,” I beg. “Please let me come. Tell me to come.” The last four words are subconsciously layered with psionic compulsion . . . a sidereal command of the Starkeeper.
“Come,” they both say at the same time, and I don’t hesitate.
My fingers fly to my throbbing clitoris, my arousal so heightened that it barely takes a touch before my climax is cresting and cresting and cresting, and then it crashes through me like a tsunami as I shatter with a scream.
My magic blasts out of me, stardust falling everywhere in a silvery mist, as quakes rock through every muscle in my body.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stars fill my vision, and I think I black out for a moment before the shudders racking me start to lessen. That has to have been the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and neither of them touched me.
Gods. What will happen when they do?
Time to find out.