Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Dorian
Some nights, coming home feels like taking back the kingdom.
This evening, it feels like locking the gates and throwing the key into the bayou.
I have everything I need in life. Brennan and Isla. Both are essential to my happiness, as I found out the hard way.
I’m a fortunate man, and I will never take their love for granted.
The elevator doors glide open on the penthouse, and Calypso is there before the chime fades, weaving between Isla’s ankles with a chirp like she’s been deprived of her queen for decades instead of three hours.
I watch the way Isla bends to scoop her up, the silk of her dress sliding over her thighs, the soft kiss she plants on the cat’s head.
Isla’s all mine, even when she’s not thinking about it.
“Sorry, baby,” she murmurs to the furball. Her voice is warm and happy. And I want it to always be this way .
Dinner was a performance—and as always, she was the star.
Now, in the quiet of our shared penthouse, she yawns, covering it with Calypso like I won’t notice.
“Mind if I take a bath?” Isla asks, and her eyes flick to mine. “Before…you know.” The words drop to a whisper, and color rises in her cheeks.
I feel the heat hit my bloodstream. How is it possible that she can still blush, given everything we’ve shared? Her adorable innocence is one of the things I love most about her.
“If you don’t join us in an hour…” I let my gaze drift down, then back up, slow enough to make her thighs press together. “…we’ll come looking.” I step closer, lower my voice. “And you won’t like the consequences.”
She looks at Brennan, then at me like she’s weighing the odds of rebellion. Part of me hopes she tries. There’s no finer view than her ass turning red under my palm.
Brennan tips his head to one side.
Clearly he’d enjoy her disobedience every bit as much as I would. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Most nights, she enjoys a glass of wine with her bath. So much so that we even bought her a holder for it that attaches to the tile.
Right now, though, she shakes her head. “I think I had enough with dinner.” She pauses. “And I think you both intend to keep me awake a little longer.”
I sweep my gaze over her delectable body. No matter how many times I explore her, I’m endlessly fascinated. I can’t get enough. “You can count on it.”
She inhales deeply, as if already sliding into the soft, sensual space I love so much.
My bride—our wife—disappears toward the bedroom, Calypso trotting after her like she’s on guard duty .
I turn for my office. Brennan follows without needing to be invited.
I pour Bonds over ice, the cubes catching light from the city’s glass sprawl below. He takes his glass to the window. Always watching. Always calculating.
Moments later, my phone rings.
Brennan turns, an eyebrow raised as I look at the display. “Moretti,” I tell him.
Neither of us say anything further.
At his nod, I push the icon to answer. Then I put the call on speaker. “Vale.”
“Marco’s no longer a problem.”
Brennan and I exchange glances.
The situation with Marco and the feds has been a constant source of annoyance and irritation. Reporters, always a problem, have been even more obnoxious than usual. Celeste and Evertt have been working overtime to do damage control. The fucking bill I receive weekly shows how much.
“Seems he met with an unfortunate incident in prison.”
Brennan’s glance is sharp, then neutral. For a moment, there may be a half-smile, but I can’t tell because it’s gone in an instant.
Finally, neutrally, I respond. “That can’t be good for the feds and their case.”
“Certainly complicates it.” Dante could be discussing the weather for as much as his tone changes. There’s a click—keys, a lighter—then, “Congratulations, Senator.” He hangs up.
Without saying thank you, I slip the phone into my pocket. Owing Moretti isn’t good business. But we all know I’m in his debt.
“It’s in the Moretti family’s best interest.”
As always, Brennan has read my mind .
I nod, then take another sip, letting the burn sit in my chest.
“Celeste sent over today’s report. I read it in the limo.”
With a hint of impatience, I wait for him to go on.
“The sitting senator’s challenger is bleeding cash on fake scandals—ghost stories in grainy photos, planted rumors. Ellery’s team’s busy swatting shadows instead of building their strategy to fight you.”
Which was Celeste’s strategy all along.
As much as Moretti, she wants to own a senator.
Though I’m sure news about Marco’s unfortunate incident will travel fast, Brennan sends a text to Celeste.
An incoming ping of his phone shows how quickly she read his message.
“Now we can focus on what matters most.” He slides his phone onto my desk.
Which to me, now, are my life partners, and then the campaign. Winning the seat is secondary to keeping my family safe and happy.
I toy with the ring that I’ve kept in my pockets since she dropped it on the kitchen counter.
At one time, I thought the obscene pink diamond was the perfect symbol of my ownership. It’s a talisman now. A reminder of lessons I had to bleed for.
The hour’s almost up when I feel her presence. Though I haven’t heard her, the air shifts. It’s warmer, scented with lavender and steam.
Calypso reappears first, leaping onto a leather armchair like she’s royalty.
Isla’s in the doorway, robe belted, skin flushed from heat and time alone. Her hair’s damp, curling against her neck. She’s scrubbed clean but glowing like she’s already sinned.
“You made it in under an hour.” I pretend I’m not disappointed .
For a moment, she worries her lower lip. “I was tempted to test you.”
“I’ll find another reason to punish you.”
She gasps softly and opens her mouth.
So damn perfect for us.
Brennan holds out his hand, and she comes to us. That she wants this as much as we do is enough to shift the ground under my feet.
“I want you naked, little one.”
Her gaze flicking between us, she allows the robe to fall to the floor. Instantly her perfect little nipples pebble.
“Hands behind you. And pull your shoulders back.”
The movement lifts her breasts toward my mouth. I taste her, slow, deliberate, until she’s sighing into the room and pressing closer.
“Stay still.” Brennan’s command sets her up for failure.
“I…”
“You heard him. Now be our good girl.”
Brennan moves in next to us, loosening his belt, eyes on her mouth.
I knot my hand in her hair and tilt her face toward him. “Show him how much you want him.”
Through his pants, she wraps her fingers around his length, tentative, then sure, and he exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken all night.
I kneel, lowering her with me.
Quickly Brennan strips off from the waist down.
Without needing to be told what to do, she opens her mouth to take his hard dick.
Still tormenting one of her nipples, I manage to free my cock. “Spread your thighs.”
Then I slide a palm between her legs. She’s already wet, already mine.
She moans around him when I stroke her, and the vibration nearly breaks his composure. “That’s it. Such a good girl.” I circle her clit with my thumb.
I maneuver us so that I’m on my back on the rug, and I guide her down over me. Though we no longer use condoms, she’s on birth control.
No matter how badly I want to see her belly swollen with our baby, we’ve all agreed to wait for a year to begin trying to expand our family. We all have a lot going on with the campaign’s constant demands, and she has the additional burden of teaching. A little time can’t hurt.
Even if I don’t like it.
“Dorian…”
As I slowly stretch her, a groan is dragged from both of us.
Our sweet little Isla rocks between us—my cock buried inside her tight pussy, her mouth wrapped around Brennan—and I have no idea which of us is closer to losing it.
Brennan cups the back of her head, and he fucks her mouth harder.
She pulls off him long enough to gasp, and I reward her with a sharp slap to her ass, then another, softer. She shudders, hungrily taking his cock again while clamping down on me.
“That’s it, Isla. Swallow all of me.”
A tear spills from one of her eyes as she obeys, her hands still in place. God.
Fuck.
Could she be more perfect?
Brennan’s jaw locks.
“Give it to her.” My voice is pure command.
He comes with her name on his lips, and she takes every drop like she was born to it. I grip her hips and drive into her, thumb finding her clit again.
“Whose are you?” I growl .
Because her mouth is full of Brennan, she can’t really answer, but as she frantically nods, her response sounds something like a scratch, sexy version of yours.
“Now you’re going to come.”
Brennan eases from her mouth while I tighten my grip on her hips, lifting her and pulling her back down.
Her head is tipped back, and she’s offering her breasts once more, her nipples pouty and begging for the attention that Brennan lavishes on them.
We drive her to the edge and keep her there for a few moments while she whimpers.
“Please.”
Our wife knows exactly what power she holds when she begs. And she knows how much we love it.
“Dorian!” Her voice has turned from a plea to a quiet demand.
Which means part of her thinks she’s still in control. How adorable. “Not yet.”
Brennan grins wickedly, curling his fingers into one of her breasts and sucking her nipple into his mouth.
I fuck her more intensely, until she surrenders into broken sobs.
When she’s completely broken, Brennan pinches her free nipple, making her cry out.
“Now.”
Before I’ve finished my command, she shatters, orgasming around my cock, clamping down harder.
Though I try to hold back, I’m lost in the power of her pussy.
Going rigid, I arch up into her and my orgasm pulses from me in powerful spurts that make the world around me go black.
No woman has ever held this control over me.
And happily I turn it over .
I hold onto her for long minutes, until all of us have a small chance for recovery.
Then Brennan helps her up and carries her to our bathroom where the three of us shower and clean up. As Brennan bathes her pussy with a warm cloth, she uses the shower nozzle to clean me.
Less than twenty minutes later, we’re in bed, and she’s naked, lying on her back, cradled between the two of us, where she’ll always sleep, protected and nurtured.
Calypso lands on a chair, curls in a ball, and ignores us completely.
Business is waiting—the campaign, the never-ending ledger of favors and debts —but none of it matters.
Not compared to this.
“If life gets better than this,” I murmur against her hair, “I don’t know how.”
Brennan nods.
Without opening her eyes, she smiles. “Let’s keep trying.”
Damn straight . I press my mouth to her hair. “Yes, wife.” My little one. My forever love.
I’ve never meant anything more.