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“Maybe not.” I shrug. “But we’re going to be the last.” I lift my chin, looking squarely at him. “In ten days, Jaxon, Blackmoor is finished.”
22
ATHENA
To my surprise, Dean and Cayde are waiting for us when we go inside. They’re in the living room, a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, and both of them already nursing drinks made from some clear liquor.
“Are you supposed to be drinking while you’re on painkillers?” I ask Cayde, narrowing my eyes as we walk in. “I don’t think so.”
Cayde laughs, lifting his glass in my direction. “Probably not. But fuck it. I might be dead soon.”
Dean ignores him, looking at me with that same concern that I’d seen on Jaxon’s face when I’d met him after the fight. “Jesus, Athena, your face.”
“You should see the other girl.”
“She fucking won,” Jaxon says, pride evident in his expression and voice. “It was a close fight, but she beat a girl that was just about twice her size. Took her straight down eight rounds in.”
“And I need a hot shower, at the very least.” I glance at them. “Save some for me. I’ll be back down in a bit.”
I don’t linger in the shower too long, just long enough to get the blood and sweat washed off of me and let the hot water sink into my skin, easing some of my bruises and aches. When I feel closer to human again, I get out and dry off, not looking too closely at my face in the mirror as I towel dry my hair and throw on a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top with no bra underneath. I know the boys will enjoy that, and more than anything, I want to enjoy a night with them, one where there’s something to celebrate.
Someone got the fire going in the living room, and the room feels warm and close when I walk in, the boys laughing about something, the sharp tang of alcohol in the air and the male scent of three very masculine men. I feel a tremor of something run through me, a need that could never be satisfied by just one of them. I look at them sitting there, before they catch a glimpse of me, my three boys.
My arrogant, cruel lord, my savage brute prince, my merciless king, gentle only when I’m in his arms.
And me, their queen. Their goddess.
Tonight, all I want is the three of them, all together, worshipping me like one. Making me feel like there’s nothing else in the world except me and them, and all the glorious things that they can make me feel.
There will be plenty of time for reality later.
I take the champagne Dean offers me, drinking it a little faster than I should. The fizz of it feels as if it goes straight to my blood, easing my aches and lifting my spirits. I squeeze in between Cayde and Dean, listening as Jaxon recounts what he saw of my fight, and then I fill in, telling them the rest. There’s the clinking of glasses and the looks of pride on all three of their faces, their reservations about my fighting disappeared like the bubbles in my glass.
It’s hard to know exactly how long it takes for the mood to shift to something else. At some point Dean takes my chin gently in his fingers, careful of the bruises on my face, and kisses me, his tongue brushing past the place on my lip where the girl managed to get in a hit. It hurts, but I don’t care. I’ve had worse, from others and from them, and tonight I want it all. Not a scene in the study, not something set up for me to submit to them while they take out their feelings on my body.
I just want the four of us, doing whatever we feel like. I want to feel normal—or as normal as a girl can feel when she’s in love with three men, and plotting to overthrow a town.
Dean takes the empty glass out of my hand, setting it aside, and I hear his groan as he deepens the kiss, leaning me back against the couch as he moves between my thighs. When he’s had his fill of my lips, he moves to my throat, his tongue running over the fading spot where he’d marked me, down to my cleavage, sliding down my body until he’s kneeling between my legs, reaching up to pull my yoga pants down my hips.
He grabs my waist in his hands and pulls me so that my ass is on the edge of the couch, spreading my thighs so that he can see all of me, laid out in front of him like a meal he can’t wait to devour.
And then—oh god—he fucking does.
I cry out the minute his tongue swirls over my clit, his hands on my inner thighs as he holds me wide open for him, his mouth seeking out all the spots that he knows I love. Cayde shifts, moving awkwardly towards me, and I turn to kiss him, seeing the hard bulge of his cock already tenting his shorts. On the other side of me, I feel Jaxon’s hand on my breast, pinching at my nipple through the thin material of the tank top, until suddenly his lips are on the cotton, sucking at my breast through it, his teeth sinking lightly into my stiffening nipple as I arch and moan, my hips grinding against Dean’s face.
So many mouths, so many hands. Lips against mine, hands on my breasts, my waist, under my tank top, pulling it off. Dean’s tongue between my thighs, circling my clit, flicking against it, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers sliding upwards, sinking into me as he pushes me towards a climax that I desperately need. I feel dizzy with pleasure, caught in the swirl of hands and lips and tongues and bodies, clothes coming off until there’s not a shred of covered flesh, Dean managing to keep eating me out even as he strips naked. I’m shuddering, trembling, muscles tensing as I near the edge, and I feel Cayde’s rough hand on my breast, squeezing, pulling at my nipple as Jaxon turns my face to his, kissing me hot and slow and deep as Dean thrusts his fingers deeply inside of me and pushes his tongue against my clit, licking as if his life depends on it as he sucks my sensitive flesh into his mouth.
The orgasm hits me, hard and fast, and I don’t know whose flesh my nails sink into, who I grab onto as it crashes through me, my back arching hard and my eyes rolling back as I lock my thighs around Dean’s head, grinding against him, coming hard on his tongue. He keeps licking, pushing me through the orgasm, drawing it out for as long as he can. And the moment it starts to ebb, there’s suddenly another pair of hands on my inner thighs, long-fingered hands that I know are Jaxon’s, and another mouth taking Dean’s place.
Fuck.Dean is kissing me then, guiding my hand to his stiff, throbbing cock as he plunges his tongue into my mouth and I taste myself on him. Someone else takes my other hand, and I feel my fingers wrapped around Cayde’s thick cock, his mouth on my neck as I stroke them both, hips bucking wildly against Jaxon’s face as he lashes his tongue against my swollen, over sensitive clit. He wastes no time sliding two fingers inside of me, curling them expertly as he finds that spot deep inside of me, pressing against it as he rolls his tongue over my clit again and again, and I gasp aloud, feeling another climax coming quickly on the heels of the first. I stroke Cayde and Dean faster, squeezing their cocks, the feeling of their hot, hard lengths in my hand as I start to come again driving me wild. I want to suck them, fuck them, take them all, and I scream my orgasm against Dean’s mouth, the sound half-muffled in the kiss as I come on Jaxon’s face, my arousal flooding over his tongue as I lock my legs around his shoulders, bucking and writhing as I strain for every ounce of pleasure that he can give me.
I’m trembling when Jaxon pulls away, my body still twitching with the aftershocks, but I slide down from the couch, kneeling in front of Cayde between his spread legs. I slide my hands up his broad, muscled thighs, squeezing as I bend down, taking him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip of him as I take as much of him in my mouth and throat as I can, bobbing up and down as I run my tongue up the length of him while he groans, his hand fisting in my hair.
Dean and Jaxon are on either side of him, and I reach for them too, stroking them as I suck Cayde, wanting to touch all of them at once, to have them all at once in any way I can. I come back up for air, leaning forward to take Dean into my mouth, rubbing the flat of my tongue underneath his cock until he tips his head back, groaning with pleasure, and then I turn to Jaxon, sliding down the length of him as I suck, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulls me down, his hips thrusting forward as he allows himself to fuck my throat for just a moment, as long as he knows I can take it.
I keep switching between them, sucking and stroking, until they’re all shuddering with pleasure, muscles rigid and tensed with the effort to hold back, the air thick with the scent of sex and filled with the sound of male pleasure, and then I rock backwards on my heels, turning to shove the coffee table out of the way as I move backwards on the carpet.
I know what I want tonight, and it only takes a second for me to get them to grasp exactly what it is.
