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As if I have a choice while dangling in open air between them. “Mmm-hmm,” I say weakly and hang like a doll, still full of Jace as much as their love and adoration.
“Beautiful mate,” Atticus whispers against my ear.
Here, I don’t have to decide, to choose, to save anyone, to make everyone happy, to play a role that’s expected of me. I simply have to give over. It’s such a monumental relief, the lifting of a massive weight I’ve struggled under for years. Releasing the control unlocks something even bigger inside me, the capacity to love both mates without fear of judgment or shame.
The pressure building in my core as Atticus prods at my already stretched opening has me thrashing, fighting, struggling to get closer to one of them, both of them.
“Easy, love.” Jace murmurs soothing words, kissing my forehead and rubbing my clit until I moan. “That’s right. Relax, and let go for us.”
Atticus curses behind me. I would check on him, but the blindfold stays wrapped around my eyes, taking away any stress of being the one to monitor everyone else’s feelings. “She feels too good,” he finally says on a groan, and I sigh at the pleasure in his words. I’ve undone my always in charge, always five steps ahead mate.
“There she is,” Jace says. “Breathe, love. We have you.”
They do. My heart wraps around the fact that I’m being cradled, cherished. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Atticus pushes inside me, and the initial pinch and sting turns into pain and pleasure at the same time. I’m too full, too strained, too overloaded with sensation. They’ll tear me apart. They’ll stitch me back into a better version of me.
“So tight,” Atticus moans.
Jace grunts, and the sound tugs at my belly.
I want to wrap my arms around him, to chase another noise from him. Yet I can’t do anything but concentrate on breathing as they move me, fly with me, sending me soaring from one orgasm to the cresting wave of something so powerful it tugs me under. I’m still screaming with pleasure when I lose consciousness and tip into darkness that has nothing to do with the blindfold.
When I wake, I blink against candlelight. I’m being bathed, handled with such precious care that I close my eyes and let them wash me while whispering sweet words of how much they can’t wait for an eternity of days like this. My heart swells, so full with the possibility of that dream becoming a reality.
I wake the next time to find myself tucked into bed with Jace curled asleep behind me, snoring softly. Propped against the headboard, Atticus reads quietly aloud, his deep voice as much of a caress as his tail around my leg and his fingers stroking my hair. He pauses, and I glance up at him.
“What is it, little queen? Do I need to remind you of your magnificence?” He strokes my cheek. “Your utter perfection as a mate?”
“Keep reading. It’s soothing.”
He chuckles, and but for my soreness, I would be tempted to pursue the prickling that has the mating magic glowing in response. “I could pick one of the filthier bits.”
“I think we’ve already outdone anything they could write about.”
“In mid-air no less,” he says. “Jace reminded me that I had promised to read to you. He thought it might help you sleep. It certainly knocked him out.”
I’m too wired to close my eyes. I try to dodge the subject, but Atticus’s knowing gaze finds mine.
“What is it?” he asks again.
“I’m worried about the trials,” I confess.
He closes the book, dropping it to his chest and pulling me into his side. Jace follows as if seeking me out in his sleep, cuddling to my back again.
“The trials will come too soon whether you worry about them or not,” Atticus says. “Why don’t we focus on enjoying the fact that we have each other? Everything else can wait. And then after the trials, we can have centuries of this.”
I snuggle against him. “Promise?”
“I promise.” He thumbs open the paperback again. “Now, close your eyes. Where was I? Oh, yes, skipping to the dirty parts.”
35
ROSEMARIE
THE MAGICIAN: MANIFEST ME A MIRACLE
Rona takes Lala’s cards, crystals, and charms from me. “I’ll protect them with my life until you return as queen.”
Giving up my last connections to Lala, it hurts. But I have to go into the trials with nothing except the Spidress’s training outfit, my wits, my love, and my fears. I try to push the last from my mind, but oh yeah, I’m terrified of what’s coming. Not knowing what to expect leaves dread crawling through me.
