Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter

Thirty-Six

Beck

I squeeze her tight, emotion threatening to choke me.

“I hope you mean that because you won’t have another. You’re mine, and I won’t

ever let you go.”

I pull her hair back and take her mouth savagely, the need

to imprint myself on her completely overwhelming. She’s so open. I hadn’t

imagined how good it would feel to truly bond with her. She’s seen all of my

bad parts, everything I loathe about my own nature, and she accepted me with a

whole heart. I know she’s seen the very things I was afraid of her seeing, but

instead of rejecting me, she told me she loves me.

“I love you, Megan,” I rasp in her ear. I pull her tight

against my chest. I love the warmth of her skin. I love the trust she places in

me. It eases my soul. I glance over her shoulder and see my brother. Cian has

gone pale. He sits back against the headboard. Meg might have accepted me

wholeheartedly, but Cian seems to be having trouble. Perhaps I’m not free and

clear. “Ci? Whatever you want to say to me, just say it. It isn’t anything I

haven’t thought about myself.”

Meg looks back toward Cian and reaches her hand out to bring

him into the circle. I worry he’ll refuse, but after a moment’s hesitation he

threads his fingers through Meg’s.

“You didn’t kill Torin because you had to save me,” Cian

says quietly. “He was right there. It wouldn’t have taken long.”

“If I’d taken even a moment, the secondary front would have

been on me,” I try to explain. I knew Cian would be upset I let our parents’

and sister’s killer live when I could have slain him. “I would have been too

late to save you. It was selfish.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Meg disagrees.

“By saving Cian, I saved myself,” I explain simply.

“No, brother,” Cian says, emotion thick in his voice. “I

don’t believe it. I was there, just as Meg was. You didn’t want to lose my part

of our soul. You value the person I am. Goddess, Beck, I never knew how bloody

hard it is to be you.”

“You valued Ci over your father, revenge, and your own

nature,” Meg explains. “And don’t think you missed out on saving the kingdom

because you chose Cian. If you had lost him, the kingdom would have been in

danger from you. I felt that, too. Don’t expect us to turn away from you for

making that choice.”

“I always trusted you, Beck,” Cian vows. He pushes his chest

against our wife’s back. “Nothing I felt tonight changes that. It just makes me

proud to be your brother.” He stares at me for a moment, his expression

serious. “You don’t want to go back, do you?”

I swallow once, and then again. Of all the things it’s hard

to admit, this is the hardest. “I don’t want to be king. I never wanted to be

king. I want to be your brother and Meg’s husband and father to our children,

but I’m not sure that’s possible. There’s a whole plane out there that will

pressure us to go back and fulfill our destiny.”

“Then we’ll have to make our own destiny, won’t we,

brother?” Cian returns. “Whatever comes, the three of us are in it together.”

“We’ll be beside you, no matter what.” Meg’s eyes are solemn

and filled with promise as she makes the vow.

“Yes, whatever happens, Meg will make cookies for the

occasion,” Cian swears with a long laugh.

It breaks the tension, and I breathe easy for the first time

in what feels like forever. I take a deep breath and find myself happy to be

Beckett Finn for once in my life.

“I’ll have to try one tomorrow, wife.” I know there’s an

incredibly foolish smile on my face, but I enjoy playing her fool.

“And a potato,” she announces with delight. It makes her

breasts jiggle, and I can feel Cian’s interest surge. It’s not unlike my own.

Now that the bridge is open, I can feel Cian’s emotions clearly.

“What is a potato?” I ask as I trace her pretty pink nipples

with my fingertip. I bonded with her on a base level. I can feel her hum with

happiness. It soothes and eases me. It also makes me horny as hell. She’s so

close. Her skin is warm against my hand, and her emotions are open and flowing

around me like a blanket, hugging me tight.

My wife loves me. My wife wants and trusts me. She’s mine on

every level.

“Do you have any idea how silly you sound with that accent

asking me what a potato is?” She shakes her head and unconsciously moves

against my body. She may not realize it, but she’s responding to our interest.

Cian cups the cheeks of her ass and squeezes while I concentrate on her

breasts. “Cian thought it was a weed.”

“It is a weed,” my brother says, kissing her shoulder. “It

tastes terrible.”

“Only because it wasn’t cooked,” Meg says with a gasp as I

lean down and lick her nipple. That bud stands at attention as I curl my tongue

around it. “Oh, wow. You’ll like it when I’ve baked it and put butter and salt

on it. They’re everywhere. We can feed the whole village.”

“Later, wife,” I command. I’m done talking. My cock is hard

and ready to fuck. “Play the queen later. Right now, you’re our wife, and we

have need of you.”

“Oh, yes, we do,” Cian whispers into her ear.

I palm her breast and suck the nipple deeply into my mouth.

I open the connection between us, and I can feel the way her body is

responding. Her whole body begins to sing with the triple arousal she feels. I

feel it, too. I can sense her soft, warm arousal alongside mine and Cian’s

raging need. Cian gently bites her sensitive earlobe. She closes her eyes, and

I feel the minute she gives over to us.

“I love that, wife,” I growl as I sense her complete

surrender. Why did I wait so long to experience this? There’s nothing perverse

about her surrender or my own need to dominate her. Meg craves my dominance.

She wants Cian’s worshipful love as well. She needs them both. “Cian, I’d like

to taste our wife.”

Cian pulls her back into his arms. His legs hook under hers,

spreading them wide for my perusal. I get on my knees as I tug my shirt off and

toss it aside. I stare at her for a moment, but that self-consciousness that

always seems to hold her back has fallen away, and I’m left with a woman who’s

confident in her own beauty. She’s gorgeous, her pussy a ripe, pink jewel. Her

clit pouts out of its hood, tempting me. Cian plays with her breasts, and she

moves restlessly beneath his hands.

I trace the outline of her pussy with my forefinger. She’s

getting wet. Her folds are getting slick with a pearly cream. She attempts to

move against me, seemingly trying to get my fingers inside, but Cian holds her

tight. I let my fingers follow the seam of her pussy down to right above her

asshole. Oh, that is a pretty sight. “Ci, have you fucked that little

ass of hers yet?”

Cian chuckles behind her. He licks and nips at her neck.

“No, but I’ve played with it enough. I’ve stretched her. She’s ready.”

Meg tenses, but then she relaxes back against Cian’s skin.

It will be all right. She will trust us. She is ours, and we will always take

care of her.

I lean over and settle myself onto the mattress, belly down.

I shove my nose in her pussy and breathe her in like I would smell a flower.

“I love your scent, wife,” I growl before I swipe my tongue

across the swollen folds of her pussy. They pout and beckon to me.

She cries out. I can feel the pleasure she takes. It feels

so good. Her flesh is engorged and throbbing. Cian’s arms and legs are manacles

holding her down for my pleasure. It’s everything she could have wanted, and

I’m happy to give it to her. I settle in, ready to give my wife everything she

desires.

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