38. Belle #2
“Stars, it’s been forever,” Peter says before kissing my neck and roaming his hands over my chest.
I chuckle, breathlessly, feeling the wall behind me, “It’s only been a few hours.”
Rourke’s lips find the shell of my ear. “Like he said, forever.”
They’re like this often, ganging up on me. Of course, in the most delicious way, but they always agree with each other—mostly to get into my pants. It makes my cheeks hurt.
I’m almost lost in their delicate touches, their lips tasting my desire seeping through my pores, but I straighten and push them away.
“No, I need to tell you both something.” This isn’t the place I wanted to do it.
There’s a fancy ball happening right outside.
I could have told them under the tall tree with glowing ribbons hanging above us—someplace we’d remember fondly forever, or somewhere out in the open so they’d be less eager to kill each other.
“What?” Peter asks, stiffening.
“I…” I fumble for words.
Rourke caresses my jaw. “You’re so tense. There’s nothing you could tell us that would make us love you less.”
I guess this is as true a test as any—the crux of our unusual relationship. No more stalling. “I’m pregnant.”
Time stops. Rourke and Peter’s eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen before. It’s only been a few seconds of silence, but I can’t take it anymore. “It’s been a month since my last period. I went to the Healer—not the pervy wizard that used to work here, but someone Rosalia recommended and I hired on.”
Still nothing.
“I know, this makes things complicated, but I told her not to tell me who the father is. It will probably be easy to tell as they get older since you both look so different, but…”
Peter crashes his lips against mine, kissing me deeply before releasing me so Rourke can do the same. Rourke pulls back and cups Peter's jaw, the two staring at each other with tear-rimmed eyes.
“So, uh, you guys are happy?”
“Happy?” Peter questions, placing my hand on his heart. “You’re giving us a family. Completing us.”
Rourke grabs Peter by the back of his neck, crashing his lips to his.
“Fuck,” I whisper, watching my men make out in front of me. It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed it, but they’re usually too busy pleasing me to worry about each other. This is a special treat that I also carve into memory. Perhaps I should tell them I’m pregnant more often.
Their embrace ends entirely too quickly before they pull apart and cling to me like moss, kissing and sucking the tender flesh on my neck until I’m shuddering in the slick wetness between my legs.
“The ball,” I say, barely audible.
“You’ve done your duty. Now let us do ours.
” Peter falls to his knees, looking up at me.
I touch his chin, staring into his hungry green eyes.
He kisses my knuckles gently. “My sweet, Belle, truly a gift from the stars.” He hikes up my skirt, nearly causing me to stumble, but Rourke steadies me, pulling himself from his pants as he kisses down my neck.
His human hand dives beneath the tight fabric of my bodice, nearly ripping it from how urgently he grabs my breasts and sets them free.
I’m a whimpering, desperate mess, writhing for more. No longer the queen of Neverhaven, but a vessel of cells eager to be filled.
I watch in awed wonder as Peter’s tongue runs through my cunt and he reaches out, swatting Rourke's hand away from his cock and replacing his strokes. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I cry through a moan. That’s never happened before.
Yep, definitely telling them I’m pregnant more often if it gets me the pleasure of watching them jerk each other off as they eat me out.
Rourke moans into my ear, shaking my body against the wall behind me as he thrusts into Peter’s hand. He tightens and pulls back from both of us, taking a deep breath to compose himself. Peter crawls up my body, running his tongue over my nipples.
Rourke gets out with pained words, “I need to fill you, breed you.”
I chuckle. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I can’t get pregnant again, at least, not right now.”
He grabs me at my waist and flips me forward, hiking up my skirt, my bare ass meeting the biting air.
“Perhaps if we both try really hard.” He doesn’t brace, just thrusts inside of me as if he’s a wild animal, slipping in easily from the moisture of his brother's mouth. He doesn’t stop, pounding inside of me, pulling Peter’s lips to his, kissing him as he fucks me.
The sounds of their mouths working over one another sends me into a spiral. I cry out, surely loud enough for the party outside the door to hear, but who cares? I’m the Queen of Neverhaven. I can fuck as loudly as I want at my own party.
My orgasm is like a balloon slowly inflating inside of me until it bursts.
I look over my shoulder as Rourke pumps down Peter’s cock.
He pulls his lips away to whisper in his ear.
“I’m getting you ready to take her, Brother.
Fill her. Mix your seed with mine.” Rourke’s last words send himself over the edge, his beautiful face contorting around his ecstasy.
He spurts inside of me, so much that his release drips down my leg.
He doesn’t waste time catching his breath; instead, he moves out of the way so Peter can take his turn. Peter pulls me upright, kissing down my neck as he positions himself at my entrance, pushing himself inside.
Rourke kisses my lips, his hook curved around my neck to keep me in place, his other hand reaching between my thighs, strumming me while his brother fucks me.
Peter’s lost in no time at all. I reach another level of my edge, my nerves crumbling apart until my mushy middle seeps through my pores. I’m a ragged husk of a woman, my knees unable to support me. It’s okay, though, because my two men hold me upright, kissing every inch of my exposed skin.
“So perfect,” Peter whispers.
“You took us both so good,” his brother says sweetly.
Both Pans make quick work of righting their clothing before stuffing me back in my dress, whipping away my smudged makeup and tucking loose hairs back into place.
I’m still dazed by all of it, not registering that time has carried on until I’m yanked out of the closet and assaulted by the brightness of the grand hall, illuminated by candles and floating fish on strings.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Peter intertwines his hand with mine. “You have a ball to attend, and I must show you off.” He kisses my cheek as Rourke grabs my other hand.
“Oh, but I’m a mess.” Yes, cum still runs down my legs, and despite my boys fixing me up, I imagine I look properly fucked.
“You look beautiful,” Rourke whispers.
I pull my hand away and pat his cheek. “You’re cute when you lie.”
“He’s not lying,” Peter counters.
“Would you two stop ganging up on me!”
“No,” Rourke says with a smile.
I hold my stomach, “Please be a girl, so I have someone on my side.”
Rourke kisses my cheek. “We’re always on your side.”
“We just know what you need, better than you do.”
“Whatever,” I say with a laugh. They’re right, and I absolutely do not want to inform them of this realization.
I’m led down the stairs to the courtyard, around the makeshift stage, and into the bustling green.
The crowd parts as we approach, eyes wide as they take in our trio.
I’m still unsure of the usual relationship dynamics in Neverhaven.
No one in Hollowbrook seems to bat an eye that I’m with both Pans, but that could just be because they work for me.
I examine the furry, feathered, and smooth faces around me, unable to tell if they stare in awe or disgust. I stop on someone familiar, my spine stiffening. “Serena?” I break away from my princes, and step toward the dark-haired beauty, her arms crossed and her eyes lit in amusement.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Came for the party.”
Rourke and Peter touch my shoulders. “Is everything okay?” Rourke asks, brandishing his hook.