Page 155 of Break Out the Girl

Instantly her core becomes molten, blood rushing to swell her inside walls to an unfathomable amount. My cock is smothered in velvet pillowy strangulation that blows my mind. And almost my wad.

I’m a second from coming when I feel Rory’s body contract and convulse. Electric shocks run down my spine…and then I explode.

I’m on another plane of existence. Me and my goddess become nothing but light, heat and sensation.

My wolf howls. The golden bonds between us are forged forever.

Unbreakable.

As my brain slowly comes back online, I collapse on the rug beside her sweat-slicked body. After a beat, I’m aware of someone draping a soft quilt over us both.

London.

He bends down to Rory’s flushed face, hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her damp forehead. “You need some water?” he asks.

The adoration in his voice makes my inner wolf hum with a deep contentment.

“Please,” she croaks. “But..but…what about you? You and me?” I watch as she catches his fingers in hers.

“Me?” London grins. “I’m more blissed out than I ever thought possible, Kitten. And you look zonked, plus I think your little lady will already be sore enough tomorrow after taking Burt’s burly-man.”

Rory giggles, and the faun kisses her gently once again. “Honestly, though. Just being part of this is everything. I could wait a lifetime for anything more.”

She strokes his cheek. “I don’t want to wait a lifetime, but maybe twenty-four hours would be a good idea.”

He beams. “Sold! Now let me get you something to wet your whistle.”

From the edge of the cushions, François lets out a laugh. Rory sees him and pats the rug next to her. “Come over here, snake-boy. Are you going to give my poor pussy a reprieve as well?”

He slides down beside her. “As if I’d allow the faun to play more of the gentleman than I.”

Good answer, de Vaux.

When London returns, it’s with a tray full of hydration for everyone. I shift slightly, then indicate the space by my side. “Get in here, faun.”

He snuggles between me and our girl, as I lean back on an elbow.

Rory is already asleep.

François has his eyes closed, fingers tangled with hers.

London sighs deeply, twisting his neck around to look at me.

“I love you, Burt,” he says sleepily.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not so bad yourself,” I grunt, not sure how to respond to such a sincere declaration. “But if you haven’t got the memo yet, my name is Taliesin.”

“I know, Burt,” he slurs, dropping off. “I know.”

EPILOGUE ONE

AURORA: LATE SPRING

“Strawberry or raspberry?” London yells through the kitchen window.

“Both?” I suggest.

“Good call. I know you like options!”