Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sophie
My phone erupts beside my head, dragging me awake so violently that I lurch upright before I have any idea where I am.
Sunlight spills through unfamiliar curtains, bright and desert-white, turning the enormous bedroom into a blur of cream linens, dark furniture, and floor-to-ceiling glass.
Then memory crashes over me.
The wedding.
Two rings on my finger.
Las Vegas.
My husbands.
The word still feels impossible, a piece of someone else’s life that has somehow attached itself to mine.
The phone continues to vibrate against the nightstand. I reach for it, but the sudden movement sends an intimate ache through my body. My inner thighs protest, and my pussy is sore enough that I wince as I shift beneath the tangled sheet.
Heat creeps into my face despite the fact that I’m alone.
Very alone, I realize.
The wide bed stretches empty on both sides of me. I touch the space where Caleb slept, then Lucian’s side. The sheets are cool beneath my palms.
I never heard either of them leave.
Considering they have the subtlety of invading armies whenever they decide they want me, that says more about my exhaustion than I care to admit.
The phone stops ringing.
Before I can unlock the screen, it begins again, my mother’s name appearing above the image I took of her on the porch last spring, her face turned toward the sun and her smile bright.
Guilt immediately clears the last of the fog from my mind. “Mom?”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Her relief comes through clearly, though her voice sounds thinner than usual. “I was starting to think something had happened.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called.”
There is a small pause. “Called from where?”
I close my eyes. I didn’t tell her I was traveling. “I’m in Vegas.”
Another pause follows. “You’re on your honeymoon?”
I glance at the rings on my left hand.
“I suppose I am.”
My mother laughs softly. The sound is warm but not quite as strong as it should be, and concern tightens beneath my ribs.
“You were radiant, Sophie.”
I smile. She looked stronger than she had in weeks, if not months.
Before I can respond, she goes on. “How are you?”
The simple question catches me off guard.
Last night moves through me in flashes. The theater. The clamps. Being touched in the darkness while people sat only feet away. The humiliating, terrifying thrill of it. And later, back here, letting my husbands take me even further.
My body aches this morning, but there is no regret buried beneath the soreness.
“I’m okay.”
I wait for my mind to reject the words.
It doesn’t.
“I’m glad.” She falls silent for several seconds.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. The new protocol is exhausting, but the doctors are encouraged.”
“Is there something else?”
“I…”
“Mom?”
“You said vows to two men.”
My father didn’t prepare her? I’m furious with him. Again. “It’s…” I pause. “Complicated.”
“But you’re okay with it?”
“I’m…” I think about what I want to say. “Happy.”
“I don’t understand you young people.” She sighs. “But your happiness is the only thing that matters.”
And I know she means it. “Thank you.”
A faint masculine laugh carries from somewhere beyond the bedroom.
Maybe Mom hears it, because she says she didn’t mean to interrupt.
“You’re never an interruption. Please call whenever you want.”
“Your…husbands… They made all the arrangements so I could attend. I even talked to Julien Bonds.”
I blink. “You…?”
“He seems like a very nice man.”
Over the years, I’ve heard plenty about the Genius. No one has ever called him a very nice man. “I’m glad you got to be there with us. I’ll check in later, okay?”
“You don’t need to spend your honeymoon reporting to me.”
“What if I want to?”
“That is different.” Her voice is soft, filled with peace.
I’m grateful Lucian and Caleb made that happen.
“Enjoy yourself, Sophie. You spend your life taking care of everyone else. Let them take care of you for a few days.”
My gaze remains fixed on the rings as we say goodbye.
When the call ends, I slide from the bed and immediately regret moving so fast.
Every well-used muscle announces itself.
My thighs ache, my breasts are tender, and the soreness between my legs is a vivid reminder of how thoroughly my husbands consummated our marriage.
I find a robe draped over a chair near the windows and slip my arms into it, tying the belt as I walk into the living room.
The blinds are open, and Las Vegas stretches beneath an impossibly blue sky.
On the table, warming dishes are filled to the brim with eggs, bacon, potatoes, fruit, pastries, and enough other food to feed far more than three people.
There’s also coffee service with pitchers of cream.
I’d sell my soul for some caffeine, and I fill a large to-go cup.
My husbands are on the far end of the room, each studying their phones and talking softly.
The moment they’re aware of me, they look toward me.
The intensity of their attention travels over my body even through the thick robe.
Caleb’s mouth curves.
Lucian sets his tablet aside. “Good morning, wife.”
The word affects me viscerally every time he says it. And right now, he sounds almost affectionate.
Caleb skims me with his gaze. “Are you sore?”
The question is so blunt that I almost hide behind my cup. “I’m fine.”
Lucian’s gaze sharpens. “That is not what he asked.”
I take a sip that I don’t taste. “A tiny bit sore.” I blush. “Everywhere you would expect.”
“Come here.”
His tone isn’t unkind. Nor does it allow for disobedience.
On bare, silent feet, I go to them. Lucian takes the cup from my hands and sets it down. Caleb parts my robe enough to give them access.
Cool air touches my breasts. In this light, there is no pretending last night didn’t happen. My nipples are darker than usual, faintly marked where the clamps held, sensitive enough that even the shift of silk made me aware of them on the walk in here.
Lucian studies them with the same calm attention he gives a problem he intends to handle himself. He does not pinch. He traces the edge of one areola with a single fingertip, then the other, so light it is almost worse than pressure.
I hiss.
He stops. “Too much?”
“Just…tender.”
“Good.” He says it like it’s information, not praise. “We needed to see.”
Caleb settles his hand at my hip. “Sit.”
He guides me onto the arm of the nearest chair and eases my knees apart. I flush so hard I feel it in my throat. Morning sun. An open robe. Both of them standing over me like this is an ordinary morning when it’s anything but.
Caleb looks first. Then Lucian.
I am swollen. Flushed. Obviously used.
Caleb’s thumb strokes the inside of my thigh, close enough that I tense, but not close enough to touch.
“Breathe,” he instructs quietly.
I do.
Lucian’s fingers join his only long enough to part me, gentle, assessing. He touches my clit so lightly it is barely contact, checking the skin, but not trying to arouse me.
I still jerk. Not from pleasure exactly. From how raw I am. From being seen this clearly in daylight.
He withdraws at once.
Caleb closes the robe and ties it again. “No more this morning.”
I blink at them. “You’re serious?”
“One hundred percent.” Lucian hands me back my coffee.
“Bacon?” Caleb asks, pulling out a chair. “Eggs?”
I’ve never been served like this before, and I start to tell them that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. But my mom’s words replay in my mind.
Right now, what could it hurt?
As he fills a plate, I take a sip of coffee. It’s strong and rich, absolutely perfect.
Caleb delivers a plate containing three times more food than I’d load it with, and I protest.
“You’ll need your strength,” Lucian observes.
When both men have served themselves, they join me.
Sunlight filters through the room, and I’m struck by how startlingly ordinary the moment is.
Me drinking coffee. The three of us ignoring the outside world.
“Who called?” Caleb asks.
“My mother.”
Both men’s attention sharpens immediately.
“Is everything okay?”
“I think she was shocked to learn I married two men.”
They exchange glances.
“She took it well enough.” But I’m still mad that my dad didn’t give her a heads-up. “And evidently she talked to Julien Bonds? And he’s a very nice man.”
“Bonds?” Caleb nearly chokes on his coffee.
“He’s a genius,” Basil supplies loyally.
Lucian rolls his eyes.
I finish my coffee, and the men clear their plates.
“Can you be ready to go in half an hour?” Lucian asks.
“Go?” I look between them. “Go where?”
“We have a surprise in mind.”
I narrow my eyes. I’ve had enough of their surprises.
“This one is nothing like last night. Memorable, but in a different way.”
“Does it have anything to do with sex?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Which leaves me wondering… What exactly do two depraved billionaires do on their honeymoon?