Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
For me? I remember the fire. Did he rescue me? His eyes turn down as though he’s waiting for me to send him away. I lean over and place a kiss on the longest of the scars. I start at the bottom, at the hard line of his jaw. I kiss him, over and over, a slow brushing of lips to scarred flesh. I kiss all the way to just right of his eyes. While I press kisses to Lach’s face, Shim’s hands move on my back. I can feel an insistent tug at the ties of my dress. Yes. I don’t need the dress. I need to be skin to skin with them, pressed to their bodies, feeling their hearts beat.
Lach’s hands come up, covering mine. There’s a predatory light in those midnight-blue eyes of his. “You accept me?”
What an odd question. How can I accept something that has always been? He’s a part of me. Of course I accept him.
“Say it, Bronwyn. Say you’re mine. Mine to protect and love.”
I nod. I’ll agree to almost anything to keep this dream going.
His hands tighten. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.” He seems to need to hear it. It doesn’t matter. It’s true. I was always his. In life. As I move to death. I am theirs. They claimed my heart so long ago it’s difficult to remember a time when I didn’t see them in my dreams. It’s only right that they be with me as I leave this life. If I hold on to them as I die, maybe I can pull them with me, be with them in what comes after.
“Mine. Fucking mine, a chumann.” Lach strokes a hand in my hair and winds it through his fingers, tugging back lightly. He looks fierce as he straightens his body, towering over me. “Mine. My princess. My mate.”
“Our mate, brother. Or are we going to have a problem?” Shim is at my back, his voice a hard grind against my ear.
“I want my fair time. You’ve held her. It’s my time.”
“I had to hold her. I had to protect her while you were busy slaughtering everyone in town.”
“I killed the men who tried to burn our mate,” Lach insists. “I make no apologies. If you have a problem with me, perhaps we should fight and see who gets to take her first.”
I feel Shim back off. Lach’s aggression is practically pounding through the room.
“We’re not goblins.” Shim’s tone goes steady as though he knows he must find a way to be calm. “We’re not going to fight to the death over our mate. Calm yourself. We’re still sidhe. We’re still brothers. Negotiate.”
All the while they talk, hands are on me. Lach pulls me to his body, tugging on my hair and taking my lips. He kisses me, groaning into my mouth, the sound rumbling along my skin. Shim’s fingers tug at the shoulders of my dress, pulling it down and smoothing over my arms. This is what I need. Hands on my body. A mouth on mine. Their cocks sliding inside.
Lach’s tongue plunges deep, dancing against mine, his mouth dominating. He comes up for air, his hands on my hips, drawing me in. I gasp as I feel the hard line of his cock. Lachlan’s cock is nestled against my belly. It isn’t where I want it to be, but it is there, so close I can feel it. Only a few layers of clothing.
“Please. It hurts.” Another flare of pain catches me.
Lach’s hand pulls my skirt up, and I feel his palm on my thigh. Rough skin, so unlike the slimy feel of Micha’s hand on my flesh. This touch thrills me.
“I’ll negotiate, brother. While I take care of our mate. Show me her breasts.” Lach’s voice is low in his throat, the rumble deep and commanding.
“Touch her. She needs hands on her.” Shim pushes the bodice of my dress down while Lach’s hands climb up my leg.
My nipples peak in the cool air. Where am I? I’m not in the White Palace. Why did my dreams bring me to this place? It’s small, the bed made of straw and ropes. A merchant’s bed. Do I know this place?
“I’ll take her body first,” Lach offers.
“Only if I get first blood,” Shim shoots back.
Blood? Why are they talking about blood?
My breasts brush Lach’s chest, aching nipples chafing against the rough wool of his tunic. Lach’s fingers slip under the gathered band of my undergarment. I tremble as his fingers tease at the outer edges of my pussy.
“First blood, then.” Shim agrees to whatever they’re talking about and then cups my breasts in his hands, holding them up for his brother’s perusal. “These are ours. You’re gorgeous, a chumann. So fucking beautiful.”
His words are as seductive as the hands on my breasts. I only ever touch myself there, pretending to be one of them. I cup my breasts deep in the night and pull at my nipples, imagining it’s Lach or Shim tugging at them. I dream they call me beautiful, though I know it isn’t true. But in their eyes I’m lovely because I belong to them. Now, in the most vivid of all my dreams, I truly feel beautiful.