Chapter 27 Burn
BURN
Burn drifted under again, the thin veneer of consciousness dissolving as he slid down into that thick, velvety dark where dreams hooked their claws into him before he had the chance to fight them off.
It was a vulnerable state he usually hated, a landscape haunted by ghosts and the metallic taste of old blood.
But this time… it wasn’t the past waiting for him.
It was her.
Noelle.
Her scent—sweet, warm, and rich with that new, intoxicatingly fertile edge that drove his primal instincts into a frenzy—curled around him even in sleep. It wrapped around his mind like soft, insistent fingers, tugging him deeper into the fantasy, urging him closer to her soft, curvy body.
In the dream, she was laid out between him and Bright on a bed of rumpled silk, her skin glowing with a soft, internal heat as she reached for both of them. She was begging them to share her…to take her together.
Burn felt himself harden instantly—a thick, heavy ache between his legs that was both pleasure and pain, and gods, he didn’t even try to stop it.
Why should he? Dreams were the one place where he didn’t have to chain the beast inside him up, didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t absolutely fucking starving for the taste of her, the feel of her, every single second of the fucking day.
In the hazy, golden light of the dream, Noelle arched her back, a slow, sinuous roll of her hips that made the silk of her nightgown slither even higher over the soft skin of her luscious, thick thighs.
She moaned with need—a soft, desperate sound—and Burn swore he could feel her desire calling directly to the savage part of his soul.
Bright moved first. The Light Twin’s hands, strong and sure, slid over the graceful curve of Noelle’s hips, guiding her thighs apart, settling himself between them like he was claiming his rightful place.
Burn watched—helpless and hungry—as Bright leaned over her, his mouth hovering just above the triangle of silk that covered her soft little pussy.
Then he tugged the fabric aside and tasted her, lapping gently at her sweet slit as she arched and bucked for him.
Burn was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming.
But fuck, it looked real enough that a bolt of pure, undiluted heat shot through him.
He couldn’t stop watching Bright’s big hands gripping the soft flesh of her inner thighs, his expression one of desperate hunger as he tasted the woman they both wanted so much.
Noelle moaned softly in the dream—a sound of pure want—tossing her head to the side, and Burn felt the soft sound of desire like a spark traveling the length of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight. He loved hearing her moan and knowing how much she wanted this.
Bright said something—Burn couldn’t hear the words, only the tone which was low and rough with desire. Noelle answered him with another trembling gasp, her back bowing off the bed, her fingers twisting and digging into the rumpled sheets.
Burn’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his short nails biting into his own palms. Gods, he loved watching Bright touch her…
loved the stark contrast of his best friend’s big hands on her lush body.
He loved the idea of the two of them taking care of her together, surrounding her, overwhelming her with sensation.
He loved imagining how Noelle would look—how she would feel, with both of them working her at once.
Bright would be soft and sweet, coaxing shivering sighs with his tongue, while Burn would be deep and demanding, filling her tight, clutching pussy with the brutal, steady rhythm of his hips.
She’d come apart so beautifully between them, moaning for both of them.
The dream shifted, the perspective twisting.
Bright had moved aside slightly, not retreating, but making space—giving Burn a place right beside him, inviting him into the intimacy.
“Yes, Burn…please…” Noelle begged as she reached for him.
Her small, cool hands slid up the bare, heavily muscled plane of his chest, her fingers trembling as they traced the ridges of old scars, her lips parted in a soundless, desperate plea.
Her nightgown was half-off her shoulder, the silken fabric pulled to one side, exposing the full, perfect curve of her breast, the tight, berry-dark peak just begging for the wet heat of his mouth.
Burn groaned—a low, feral sound he couldn’t help—the vibration rumbling through his own chest.
He lowered his head, bracing himself over her, caging her in, breathing in the potent, addictive scent of her skin.
Gods, she smelled like everything he’d ever wanted but never dared to ask for.
Sweetness and warmth and the slick, feminine perfume of her need.
She whispered his name again and something deep inside his chest turned molten and hot.
He dipped his head lower, not quite touching—not yet. Just letting the heat of his breath ghost over the soft, vulnerable skin of her inner thighs, watching her tremble for him.
Noelle arched again, a helpless, involuntary movement—offering herself up like a sacrifice, like she needed him. Like she wanted his rough, claiming touch as much as he ached to give it.
“Burn…” she breathed. “Please, I want…I need…”
“Gods, baby—I know what you want,” he growled. Bending his head, he slipped his tongue deep into her soft, wet pussy, tasting her salty-sweet honey as she moaned and pulled his hair, begging him to keep going, to make her come…
But then the dream dissolved in a slow, rippling wave of heat, the edges blurring, the colors running like wet paint. The image of Noelle, flushed and pleading, faded…then scattered into nothingness like dust on a hot wind.
Burn jerked awake, his entire body snapping taut with unmet need.
His heart was a wild, pounding drum against his ribs. His cock was a rigid, aching weight against his stomach, painfully hard. Noelle was still nestled between them, her breath soft and even, her ripe scent curling through the dark air of the cell like a persistent, taunting curl of smoke.
Bright was asleep too, one hand resting lightly, possessively, on the gentle swell of Noelle’s hip.
Burn swallowed hard, the sound loud in the utter silence. He dragged a hand over his face, feeling the rough stubble against his palm.
He shouldn’t want this so much. It was a dangerous, all-consuming fire. He shouldn’t be dreaming such filthy, explicit dreams about things he had no right to, about burying himself inside her while Bright did the same—the two of them sharing her in the most intimate way possible.
But gods help him… he did. He wanted what the dream had shown him with a desperation that terrified him. He’d been friends with Bright for years, but he had never met a female he wanted so badly to share with the Light Twin…until Noelle had come into their lives.
He lay there for a long time, staring up at the pitch-black ceiling, listening to the soft, steady, synchronized breaths of the two people he cared for most in this fucked-up universe.
Mine, a dark, possessive voice whispered from the deepest, most ancient part of him.
Ours, another, wiser voice answered, the almost-bond with Bright resonating with the truth of it.
Burn let his eyes close again—a slow, deliberate surrender to sleep. But before he slipped under again, he made himself a promise.
Whatever happened next… whatever battles awaited…whatever hells they had to walk through, he wasn’t letting either of them go.