Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Crymson
“Soulmate?” I repeat, staring at the fae man in front of me. “How can I be your soulmate when you barely even know me?”
Thorn studies me carefully. “I know this doesn’t make much sense to you—”
“You’re right,” I interrupt. “This doesn’t make sense. So explain. How about you start with the lie you told me.”
He hesitates. “It was the easiest way to get you into the Dark Lands and away from the Blood King. If he’d known you were my bonded, he would have killed you. Claiming you as kin was for your protection.”
“But you didn’t tell me once we got here,” I point out. “You could have let me know your plan once I was safe. You could have told me everything then.”
He glances at Carver, who leans against the stone wall.
The asshole simply lifts a single arrogant hand as if to say, do go on.
Though Carver’s expression is serious, there is still amusement written there.
Clearly, he likes watching his brother squirm under my questioning.
Thorn shakes his head when he realizes there’s no help coming his way from his sibling.
“You’re right,” Thorn admits. “I had hoped to protect you. The less you know, the better.”
“Bullshit,” I spit, glaring at him. “Only assholes with too much ego say shit like that. You should have told me.” I cross my arms. “Now, how are we soulmates?”
He sighs. “Unlike vampires, fae have bonded mates. Think of it like a red string you’re born with. You were born with my string and I with yours. That’s really all there is to it. It allows a bond between us that heightens power.”
“Your power?”
“Both of our power,” he corrects. “If the Blood King had known what he had in his kingdom, he would have made your death as gruesome as possible.”
I glance over at Carver. “Is all of this true?”
Carver nods. “It is.”
Thorn scowls. “You trust his word over mine?”
“He hasn’t lied to me.” I shrug. “Not yet. You brought me here under the pretense of a lie, and I’m really fucking mad at you about that.”
Thorn’s face falls. “I understand.”
“All my life, I’ve wanted a family,” I rasp. “When I came here, I thought that was what was happening.”
Thorn meets my eyes, and it’s hard to look at him when I feel so raw and exposed.
“You’re mine. You’re my family, Crymson. In every sense of the word. We’re bonded. You’re not alone here. You’re safe.” He holds out his hand. “Allow me to make it up to you.”
An ache forms deep in my chest at the thought of his claim. You’re my family, Crymson . . .
I stare at his hand. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
Carver, suddenly at my back, makes me jump. His hands circle my wrists and stroke up as he leans in, and his lips trace the shell of my ear. “He wants to make you feel good.”
Desire pools between my thighs at his words, and I clamp them together to hide the evidence. Carver, however, seems to know, judging by the chuckle that slips from his lips.
“Take his hand, Crymson,” Carver goads. “Let me feel your desire for him.”
I can feel everything he does. Carver’s words echo through my thoughts. Does that mean—
I slip my hand into Thorn’s slowly, taking the heat of his palm in mine. “I’m still mad at you,” I tell the King.
“Understandable,” Thorn nods. “But . . . allow me to try and convince you it was for the best.”
His wings open wide, touching wall to wall, drawing my eyes as the thorns on his shoulders catch the flickering candles around the room.
“So, if I touch him, will you feel it?” I ask Carver from over my shoulder.
Carver nods. “Yes,” he hisses. “I’ll feel every touch.”
I stroke my fingers down Thorn’s chest, and Carver shivers against me even as Thorn’s muscles jump beneath my touch.
“Interesting,” I muse. My eyes fall on Thorn’s perfect body.
The dark points of his curse mar his collarbones, the highlights of his jawline, and everything in between.
And yet, he’s flawless in his strength. Every part of him is muscled and dipped in smooth tan skin.
He’s infuriatingly handsome. My eyes meet his.
“This doesn’t mean I agree with the whole soulmate thing. But I’m open to talking.”
Talking. How many times in my life has a guy offered to just talk and it ended in something else? I’m not naive. I’m not even playing his game. This game, this one is mine. It’s a test because what if . . . what if he’s telling the truth?
What if I am mated to the Thorn King?
The corner of his lips quirks up. “I can change your mind.”
“You’re welcome to try,” I tease.
My heart pounds with the sound of his heavy footfalls as he closes the space between us. His hand is in my hair before I even see him move, my head wrenched backward as he towers over me. “You belong here,” he growls. “You want a family? I’ll give you something better.”
“What’s that?” I rasp, looking up at him with my head tilted back.
“A place to belong,” he grunts, before his lips are on mine.
Kissing Thorn feels like falling into a thorn bush, not because he pricks me but because it feels like you’re tangled up in vines you can’t extract yourself from.
When his lips move over mine, it drags every bit of desire for the man to the surface despite my endless anger with him.
Pressing against him there, my hand automatically goes to the hardness I can feel in his pants.
He groans against my lips at the same time that Carver groans behind me.
When Carver presses against my back, my whole body short-circuits.
I’m sandwiched between them, their wings hovering around me, and I’ve never felt . . . safer.
“You were made for us,” Thorn purrs against my lips. “I would have preferred you all to myself but—”
“We’re bonded,” Carver groans as his hips roll against my ass, and I arch even more for him.
“I may have resented this connection before, but I’m definitely enjoying it now.
” His hands trail up my waist, teasing, caressing, while Thorn does the same.
Their hands trail over my body, ensnaring me, driving me insane while they stroke every inch of my skin.
I stop trying to hide the desire I feel and reach for the edge of my shirt.
Carver beats me to it. The warmth of his hands skims up my ribs so slowly it’s agony before he finally skims over my breasts just as the shirt is tossed somewhere in the darkness.
He strips me bare so fast, I almost miss it.
The cold air touches my skin and makes my nipples pebble.
They’re driving me insane every second, until I’m desperate for them.
“Please,” I moan when Thorn dips down and trails his teeth along my collarbone. “Please,” I gasp.
“You beg so pretty,” Carver purrs along my neck as he presses against my back, his hands leaving trails of fire behind. He spins me, much to Thorn’s annoyance, so that I’m facing him. “That pretty mouth would be beautiful wrapped around me.”
His finger brushes along my lower lip, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. His head tips forward, leaving only heated breaths between us.
“Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll do just that,” I tease, and he groans along my lips, almost kissing me but not quite.
“I’m such a good boy,” he whispers before slamming his lips to mine in the most sinful claim.
Unlike Thorn, Carver’s kiss is desperate, starving, as if he’s waited his whole life just to taste me.
Where Thorn takes his time, Carver consumes me so fast, it should give him a stomachache.
His hands twist in my hair as he takes control.
Thorn presses against my back, his wings gently caressing around us.
I can hear him moving around, hear the sound of clothing being removed, but I can’t turn to look while Carver has a demanding hold on me.
“You can tell us to stop,” Thorn says along the back of my neck.
“Why would I do that?” I murmur.
“If you get overwhelmed.”
Fat chance of that happening. I’ve imagined this happening since I met them.
I’ve thought of Thorn since our training session where I’d straddled him.
I’ve thought of Carver since our first kiss.
This has been a long time coming, and I want nothing more than to taste both of them. Every. Single. Inch.
At the same time?
My racing thoughts are pulled back to reality as my hands trail over Carver’s bare stomach.
Lean muscle jumps beneath my palm, and I want to touch every part of him in a way that seems like he’s never been touched before.
Despite my desire to take it slow, my hand slips down to the button of his pants and slips it aside.
Darkness pools in his pretty eyes as he kicks the clothing away with ease, his cock standing proud in front of him.
And it’s a really nice cock. Fae men are apparently well-endowed.
The urge to taste him slams into me so strongly that I find myself falling to my knees despite his hold on me.
His fingers loosen in my hair, but he never lets go as I wrap my hand around the base of his length.
Carver groans at the same time as Thorn does.
The purr of their pleasure curls around the room.
For the first time, I wonder if their connection goes both ways.
It’s hard to know. I probably should have asked more questions, but it’s hard when two sex gods are pressing against you and offering to give you the Eiffel tower of your dreams.
I lick the smooth tip of Carver and relish the guttural sound he makes in his throat as I swirl my tongue around him before sliding down every inch.
His hands tighten in my hair and force me deeper, almost making me gag, before he lets me up for air and strokes gently past my lips over and over again.
“You look so perfect like this,” Carver purrs. “Wait until I’m on my knees for you.”