Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Rose
The wine flows freely, and with it, stories.
Soren regales us with tales of Yules past, of celebrations in grand castles and humble villages, of traditions long forgotten by modern witches.
Lucien, surprisingly, joins in, describing the formal Yule balls of his human life, with their rigid protocols and secret trysts in darkened corridors.
Drake’s contributions are quieter, more personal, with memories of his last Yule before death, the plum pudding they had at dinner, cutting their from the woods behind their house.
I soak it all in, these glimpses into their lives before me. It’s strange to think of them existing in different times, different worlds, all converging on this one night in my tiny dorm room.
Outside, the storm grows worse, and we’re isolated, cut off from the world by weather and circumstance. It should be frightening, but instead, it feels intimate, like we’re the only people left.
“Your turn,” Soren says, nudging my leg with his foot. “What did little Rose do for Yule before she became the most important witch in America?”
I laugh, the wine making me looser than I’d normally be.
“Well, first of all, it was Christmas. Nothing fancy. Mom and I never stayed in one place long enough for traditions. But she always tried, you know?” I repeat my story about the paper snowflakes, the sapling, the gas station donuts and hot chocolates.
When I finish, there’s a moment of silence. Drake’s arm tightens around me, and Soren looks momentarily serious.
“Your mother sounds remarkable,” Drake says quietly.
“She was.” The word catches in my throat. Was. Not is. I still haven’t gotten used to that.
Soren presses his lips to my temple. “She’d be proud of you.”
“Would she, though? I’m sitting in a magical academy drinking stolen wine with a ghost, a vampire, and an incubus. Not exactly the life she imagined for me.”
“You’re surviving,” Soren says, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. “That’s all she wanted.”
The conversation shifts, turning to lighter topics. The wine bottle empties. Soren produces another from inside his coat. “Just in case,” he says with a wink, and we start on that one. The room grows warmer, and I find myself shedding my sweater, down to just a thin t-shirt underneath.
Drake notices, and his eyes follow my movement. His hand resting on my knee slides up just a fraction, a question in the touch. I answer by shifting closer to him, letting my head rest against his shoulder.
Soren watches us with heated interest. Lucien’s gaze is more controlled, but no less intense.
“It’s getting late,” Lucien says, though he makes no move to leave.
“Is it?” Soren stretches, catlike and deliberate. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Drake’s fingers trace idle patterns on my thigh. He doesn’t speak, but I feel what he’s asking in his touch. The choice is mine. It always has been.
I take a breath, then stand, crossing the small space to turn off the light. The room plunges into semi-darkness, illuminated only by the fairy lights I’ve strung around my bed frame.
“Stay,” I say simply. “All of you.”
No one moves for a heartbeat. Then, Drake is behind me, his hands gentle on my shoulders. “You sure about this?”
I nod, reaching up to touch his face. “More than sure.”
His kiss is softly reverent. His hands cradle my face like I’m something precious, breakable.
But I don’t want gentle, not from him. Not tonight.
I deepen the kiss, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.
He makes a startled sound against my mouth, but doesn’t resist when I walk him backward toward the bed.
“Lie down,” I tell him, and there’s a command in my voice I’ve never used with him before.
His eyes are filled with desire, but he obeys, stretching out on my narrow bed, watching me with a mixture of hunger and surrender.
I climb over him, straddling his hips, taking his wrists and pinning them above his head. “Stay still,” I order, and the way his breath catches tells me he likes this as much as I do.
I kiss him again, harder this time, rolling my hips against him. He groans, arching up, but I push him back down. “I said stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he manages, and the grin that spreads across his face is worth every moment of boldness.
I’m so caught up in Drake that I almost forget we’re not alone until I feel the bed dip behind me. Soren’s hands slide around my waist, his mouth finding my neck. “Mmm, look at you,” he murmurs against my skin. “So bossy. So sexy.”
I lean back into him, letting my head fall against his shoulder. His hands slip under my shirt, skimming up my ribs to cup my breasts. His touch isn’t gentle like Drake’s, it’s possessive, demanding, his fingers pinching my nipples just hard enough to make me gasp.
“Too much?” His teeth nip my earlobe.
“Not enough,” I counter, and I feel his smile against my neck.
Drake watches us, his eyes dark with want, his hands still obediently above his head where I placed them. The sight of him laid out beneath me, willing and waiting, sends a thrill through me.
I reach down, tugging at the hem of his shirt, just as real as he is, the cloth a fine woven cotton. “Take this off.”
He sits up just enough to pull it over his head, then settles back, bare-chested and beautiful.
Truly he is. I can appreciate that now, seeing him like this.
I run my hands over his skin, marveling at how solid he feels, how warm.
This isn’t the Drake who flickers and fades.
This is a man, here and now, real as can be.
Behind me, Soren’s hands get bolder, one sliding down my stomach, slipping past my waistband to find me wet and waiting. I take a sharp breath when his fingers stroke me, my hips bucking involuntarily.
“Someone’s eager,” he teases, circling my clit with torturous slowness.
“Shut up,” I manage.
“Make me,” he challenges, and I turn my head to meet his mouth in a bruising kiss.
While Soren’s fingers work their magic between my legs, I focus on Drake, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down his hips. His thick cock springs free, hard and ready, and I wrap my hand around him, stroking slowly.
“Rose,” he groans, his hips lifting into my touch.
“I thought I told you to stay still,” I remind him, giving him a gentle squeeze that makes his breath hitch.
“Yes, ma’am,” he gasps, forcing himself back down.
I hear movement to my left and turn to see Lucien, watching us from the edge of the bed. He’s still fully dressed, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s far from uninvolved. Our gazes lock, and something passes between us. It’s a question, an answer, and an invitation.
He moves closer, one hand reaching out to brush hair from my face. His touch is cool against my flushed skin, a contrast to the heat building inside me from Soren’s skilled fingers and Drake’s eager responsiveness.
“Lovely Rose,” Lucien murmurs, and it undoes me somehow.
I lean into his touch, seeking more. Lucien obliges, his hand curving around the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that’s surprisingly gentle given the hunger in his eyes. His other hand joins Soren’s beneath my shirt, and between the two of them, they strip it from me in one fluid movement.
The cool air hits my bare skin, making me shiver, but I’m surrounded by warmth with Drake beneath me, Soren pressed against my back, and Lucien now kneeling beside us. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but instead I feel powerful. Desired. Safe.
“More,” I demand, not even sure who I’m asking.
It doesn’t matter. They all respond.
Clothes disappear in a frantic rush of hands and breathless laughter. Drake helps me out of my pants while Soren tugs off his own shirt. Lucien undresses slowly, folding each item before setting it aside.
And then we’re all naked on my too-small bed. Soren’s hands never stop moving, exploring every inch of me. Drake watches with undisguised hunger as Soren’s fingers circle my entrance, teasing but never quite giving me what I need.
“Stop teasing,” I pant, trying to push back against his hand.
Soren chuckles, the sound vibrating against my neck where his mouth is leaving marks I’ll see tomorrow. “But you’re so pretty when you beg.”
“I’m not begging,” I insist, even as my body betrays me, arching into his touch.
“Not yet,” he agrees, slipping one finger inside me, then another. “But you will.”
I gasp, my eyes fluttering closed. When I open them, Lucien is watching me intently, his gaze tracking every reaction. He reaches out, running his thumb across my bottom lip. I open for him, taking his thumb into my mouth, sucking gently.
His eyes darken. “Good girl.”
The praise sends a chill down my spine. I release his thumb, then turn my attention back to Drake, who’s been waiting with remarkable patience. I shift, positioning myself over him.
“Ready?” I ask, and the irony of asking permission when I’ve been ordering him around isn’t lost on me.
“God, yes,” he breathes, his hands settling on my hips.
I sink down onto him slowly, taking him inch by inch. He feels so real, and so present, filling me completely. I move up and back down, slowly at first, then faster as my own need takes over.
Drake meets each thrust, his hands guiding my hips for me, his eyes never leaving mine. “You feel like a miracle,” he tells me.
Behind me, Soren watches, his hands wandering over my back, my ass, occasionally reaching around to stroke my clit in time with our movements. I feel his hardness pressed against my lower back, a promise of what’s to come.
Lucien moves to kneel beside Drake’s head, his hand tangling in my hair. He pulls me forward with unmistakable authority, bringing my mouth to his cock. I open obediently, taking him in, moaning around him as Drake hits a particularly sensitive spot inside me.
The dual sensation is intense with Drake filling me below, Lucien in my mouth, Soren’s hands everywhere, touching, teasing, pushing me toward the edge. I lose myself in it, in them, in the heat and pleasure building to an inevitable climax.
Drake comes first, then an orgasm rips through me, leaving me gasping and trembling. But the others aren’t done with me yet.
Soren eases me off Drake, turning me to face him. “My turn,” he says, his eyes glittering with wicked intent. He lays back, pulling me on top of him, guiding me down onto his length in one smooth motion before I can recover.
Where Drake was gentle, Soren is relentless, his hips driving up into me with a force that borders on too much, finding places inside me I didn’t know existed. He pushes boundaries I didn’t know I had, one hand on my throat, squeezing lightly, a reminder of who’s in control now.
“Too much?” he asks.
I shake my head, unable to form words as he hits a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
“Good girl,” he praises, and the echo of Lucien’s words earlier sends another wave of pleasure through me.
Lucien moves behind me, his hands gliding over my skin. “May I?” he asks, and though the question is vague, I know exactly what he’s asking.
“Yes,” I breathe, already pushing into his touch.
His fingers are slick, and he circles my other entrance, preparing me slowly, carefully. There’s pressure, then a brief second of discomfort that quickly melts into pleasure as he eases a finger inside.
Drake watches from the side, still mostly hard, his blue eyes bright with renewed interest. He leans in to kiss me, swallowing my moans as Soren continues his relentless pace below and Lucien works me open patiently.
When Lucien finally enters me, the sensation is almost too much. I’m filled completely, stretched to my limits, caught between them in the most exquisite way. They move together, finding a rhythm that drives me higher and higher, toward a peak I’m not sure I’ll survive.
“Let go,” Lucien tells me in my ear, his mesmerizing voice a command I can’t disobey.
And I do. The second orgasm hits me harder than the first, and I scream out. Soren follows immediately, his release triggering Lucien’s, and for a moment, we’re together in a perfect, shared ecstasy.
Afterward, I collapse, sweaty and completely satisfied.
Drake pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me protectively.
Soren sprawls on my other side, one leg thrown over mine.
Lucien, ever the gentleman, disappears for a split second with his vampire speed, then begins gently cleaning me with a warm, damp cloth.
When he’s finished taking care of me, he then settles at the foot of the bed, one hand resting on my ankle.
The storm outside continues to rage, but in here, in this cocoon of warmth and safety, nothing can touch us. I drift toward sleep, surrounded by the three men who have, against all odds, become my protectors, my lovers, my strange, broken family.
I close my eyes, letting sleep take me, knowing that I’m not really alone now. Not tonight. Not anymore.