Sold To The Dragons (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) Page 6

  I'd told Marielle that I'd love to meet her little daughter, Ava, and so, after lunch, we got Ava from Marielle's mother-in-law, who took care of her most days. We took Ava to the park to feed bread crusts to the ducks; then after, we spent a good hour just sitting in the grass, watching her kick a soccer ball and play games with another little girl about her age.

  Ava was an adorable little girl with softly curling hair the same pale blonde shade as her mom's, and I couldn't deny that spending the afternoon with her had reawakened in me some very strong maternal instincts I'd developed while caring for my little brothers. I told Marielle that I couldn't wait to have a child of my own.

  Fortunately, I had two men very intent on getting me pregnant.

  That evening, it was Steven's turn for a visit, and he knocked around eight. I opened the door with my pulse accelerating a bit. I'd been looking forward to seeing him all day. And in fact, not a half-hour before, I'd gotten out of the bath after having a nice, long soak while my mind wandered in different directions relating to our coming night together. During my soak, I'd also enjoyed a very large glass of wine, which had put me in a state of complete relaxation.

  But when I saw him, my tranquility bubble popped, and I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth. A large purple bruise covered his entire left eye.

  "Steven, what happened?" Immediately realizing I should at least invite him inside first before making him explain, I quickly ushered him in and shut the door. "Now please tell me how you got that enormous bruise."

  He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug, his lips twitching with amusement. "Oh, Blake and I may have had a debate yesterday about which one of us would be mating with you first. And things may have gotten a little heated, and I may have taken a swing at him. However, he may have ducked. Right before throwing a punch of his own that caught me on the eye just so. Just a gentle little clip."

  That was obviously a bit of an understatement. He'd clearly been walloped. His dark blue eyes twinkled, and I couldn't hold back a little chuckle, smiling.

  "Well, that's what you get for taking a swing at your own brother."

  His delectable, full mouth curved in a slight grin.

  "No, that's what I get for missing."

  I laughed, looking into his eyes, while butterflies rioted in my stomach.

  We didn't even make it into the bedroom. Passionate kissing led to clothes flying, and somehow, I soon found myself straddling him while he sat on the couch.

  He gripped my bare rear and spoke in a husky whisper. "I don't think you have any clue just how beautiful you are."

  Even with his black eye, he was still unbelievably handsome. In fact, he was almost even more so because of it. He looked even more rugged and tough than usual. And I couldn't deny that it was a bit of a thrill for me to see visual evidence of how two incredibly attractive brothers, and dragon shifters at that, not to mention royals, had fought over who'd get to spend the first night with me.

  In response to Steven's statement about me being beautiful, I suppressed a smile, deciding to tease him a bit. "Well, maybe I don't know how beautiful I am. So, why don't you tell me?"

  He seemed to suppress a smile himself. "Well, how's this. The moment I saw you, I almost very literally tripped I was so dazzled by you."

  Recalling that evening, I smiled. "I think I saw that. I saw you do a little stutter step."

  Reflecting golden light from a blazing fire in the gilded hearth across from the couch, his blue eyes twinkled.

  "You're lucky I didn't fall and hit my face on a bookshelf. Might have shown up with two black eyes tonight. Both of them somewhat indirectly caused by you."

  I loved the sound of his deep voice, and I loved feeling it rumble in his chest against my own. I loved his clean, faintly citrusy, woodsy scent. I loved how his strong, long-fingered hands felt gripping my rear. And as we continued to banter, I began to feel as if I'd known him for much longer than I had.

  Though after a short while, all bantering stopped. We resumed our passionate kissing, and soon Steven began rhythmically pulling and pushing my hips, causing my slick feminine lips and my throbbing sensitive bud to stroke up and down the length of his rock-hard shaft, which was very similar in size to Blake's. The sensation of being stroked in this manner, or rather, the sensation of being caused to stroke him, whichever, was one of such intense pleasure that I threw my head back, moaning.

  "Don't stop, Steven. Please."

  With a low growl rumbling in his well-defined chest, he didn't, and within a minute or two, I was crying out with a release so powerful that I dug my nails into his shoulders while wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over my body.

  Not long after, I mounted him, sliding down his very considerable length with a long, loud moan. It was only then that I realized that despite all walls in the castle being made of stone, the doors weren't; they were made of wood. And though it was fairly thick oak, I wondered if noise could carry through it. Particularly very loud noises, like moans and cries of passion. Which could possibly be heard by Tom and Blake, who might be passing my front door on the way to their own apartment suites.

  A little self-conscious now, I began riding Steven, stifling another moan. "I'll be a little quieter. Just realized people might hear through the front door."

  It was only maybe ten or fifteen feet away.

  But Steven just shrugged. "Let 'em hear. Because with how often I'm intending to visit you, they'd better get used to it."

  I figured that was kind of a good point. I could see many more living room encounters in my future, and I knew I couldn't continually stifle myself.

  And soon, I couldn't even if I'd tried my hardest. The feel of Steven's thick shaft sliding in and out of my slickness while I rode him, combined with the feel of his hands gripping my rear, made me moan the loudest I had yet. And also, though I felt quite a bit naughty even just admitting it to myself, the possibility of Blake or Tom overhearing my cries of passion was a strangely exciting one. It actually aroused me to the point that I was only able to ride Steven for a minute or two before collapsing over his chest, hips grinding and body shuddering.

  We made love again later that night, and then again in the morning, shortly after Steven had served me breakfast in bed. I'd woken up incredibly happy to feel his arms still around me.

  The following night, Blake came to visit me again and pleasured me to no fewer than four releases over the course of the night. We still didn't speak much, though. In fact, we hardly spoke at all. And in the morning, I awoke to find him gone, just like I had the last time.

  Things continued similarly over the next several days. I spent my days with Marielle, while Tom, Blake, and Steven led patrols, protecting the city from The Destroyers, who'd been attempting to step up their spying efforts, apparently. Steven and I continued with our easy rapport, and we continued on with our steamy overnight visits. I couldn't deny that I was beginning to fall in love with him, and maybe even deeply.

  However, that was a bit unsettling, because I also couldn't deny that despite his seeming lack of interest in getting to know me other than sexually, I was beginning to fall in love with Blake, as well. And maybe even a little bit harder than with Steven. And I knew I'd eventually be marrying only one man.

  At the end of my first week in Ashcrest, when Blake still hadn't taken me up on any of my numerous offers to have dinner together, like Steven and I had already done, I couldn't help but begin to feel more than a little hurt. I'd thought he possibly just needed time to warm up to me on a non-sexual level. But now, I was having a hard time not taking things personally.

  I resolved to confront him. And fortunately, he was due over that night.

  *

  Blake made it all too easy to confront him. Because he actually made me mad. After we'd made love for the second time that night, I asked him if he'd like to have a glass of wine by the fire with me.

  "I thought we could just talk and get to know each other better. And I mean...on a level other than the
physical."

  But he was already dressed and was now putting his heavy black boots on. Sitting on the end of the bed with his back to me, he didn't even turn around to respond. "Thanks. But maybe some other time."

  That did it.

  Hurt and angry at the same time, I got out of bed, wrapping the sheet around my body, and came to stand in front of him. "Can I just ask you something? How come you never stay after? How come you never stay the night? How come you never really even...even talk to me? Is it because you're just doing your duty, even though you really don't feel anything for me? Which is fine, but...."

  I'd thought that I'd meant my words about it being fine, but now I strongly doubted them. Because if it were really fine that Blake didn't really feel anything for me, I wasn't sure why tears were suddenly pricking my eyelids.

  "Is it because I don't...I don't sufficiently please you or something? Or you don't find me beautiful?"

  Cringing, he didn't respond right away. But after a moment or two, he suddenly took one of my hands, his handsome face a mask of agony. "You actually think it's possible that you don't please me? You actually think it's possible that I don't find you beautiful?"

  Reveling in the feel of my hand in his own, which never got old, I lifted my shoulders in a slight shrug. "Well, you tell me. Are those things it? Is at least one of those things it?"

  He stood, shaking his head with a sigh, his mouth actually twitching with something that resembled amusement. Or maybe exasperation.

  "I only find you so beautiful that just the thought of you can drive me half-sick with desire. And you only please me on a level I've never experienced before in my life. That's all."

  Mulling over his response, I developed a sudden urge to kiss him while hiking a leg up on his hip, pressing myself against him. But I resisted. I was determined to get answers.

  "Then, why? Why don't you ever want to talk? Why don't you ever stay the night? You never even seem to want to share a meal with me. Why is that?"

  He winced, his expression becoming pained once again. "Do I really have to spell it out?"

  I couldn't hold back a little scoff, incredulous. "Well, yes. Yes, you need to spell it out. Because if you think I'm so beautiful, and if I really please you so much, I really think I need some answers. Why don't you want to talk to me or spend any more time with me than you absolutely have to?"

  Now it was Blake's turn to scoff, and he did, the noise a frustrated and bitter-sounding one. "Don't you see? I'm falling in love with you, Kira. I'm falling extremely hard and fast. I'm falling so deeply that just one single look at your face can make my chest feel like...." He trailed off, giving his head a slight shake, and didn't finish the thought.

  "Don't you understand what this means? Don't you understand what I'm afraid of? I'm afraid of falling for you any harder. That's why I haven't wanted to spend any more time with you than I have to. I'm afraid of falling for you any harder than I already have. Because if I do...and if Steven's the one who gets you pregnant...well, then you'll marry him and you won't be mine any more. Not even...half-mine anymore."

  Stunned, I didn't know quite what to say. I hadn't been expecting this answer. But before I could say anything, Blake suddenly planted a hard kiss on my mouth, released my hand, and strode out the bedroom door. My mind reeling, I didn't even follow him.

  I spent a good part of the next day staring out my apartment windows, watching rain fall. I didn't even go anywhere or see anyone. Marielle was spending the day volunteering at Ava's kindergarten.

  Blake's admission had only further deepened my sense of uncertainty about which brother I hoped would impregnate me. Though in the end, I knew it wouldn't even matter who I hoped would get me pregnant. I was making love with each brother at about the same rate of frequency and intensity. It would be a toss-up.

  After an early dinner, I texted Steven, asking when he thought he'd be over. As much as it made me feel like a dirty little minx to admit it, I was becoming so used to my daily evening pleasure that immediately after dinner each night, I began hungering for something other than food. And hungering pretty urgently.

  Steven immediately texted back saying that he was just waiting for his father to return from a patrol run he should have returned from an hour earlier. But Steven added that if he didn't show up soon, he was going to head back to the castle without him.

  Not a moment later, a knock on the front door startled me. I opened it, expecting to possibly see Marielle, who was supposed to return to the castle that evening. But it wasn't her. It was Blake.

  I ushered him inside and shut the door. "Is everything okay with your father? Steven just texted that he hasn't returned from a patrol run yet. And that he was supposed to return an hour ago."

  Blake shrugged and then pulled me into his arms. "He's fine. Even if he ran into a few Destroyers, he's a strong fighter, and he has two other shifters with him besides."

  Relieved, I wrapped my arms around Blake's neck. "Good."

  He gave me a quick kiss before fixing me with a serious look. "I know it's not my evening. But I just wanted to tell you something."

  "What is it?"

  "I've missed you. I've missed you all day, and I've been thinking. And I've decided I want to have that glass of wine with you. That is, if the offer still stands."

  It certainly did. Elated, I was all too quick to head out to the kitchen and bring out some glasses and a bottle of red wine. And while we sipped it, me on his lap on the couch, we finally talked. We talked about our lives before we'd met each other, and we talked about a few boring, everyday things. We discussed what we'd each had for lunch that day. We even shared a few laughs. Blake had always been so stern I hadn't even been sure if he was capable of laughing.

  One glass of wine led to two, and eventually, after some serious kissing, I guided his hand down the front of my pants and underwear. "Please touch me."

  I was actually a bit desperate for him to. I'd become slick while we'd been kissing, and now my most sensitive spot throbbed with need.

  With a low growl, he began exploring my slick lips, soon located my throbbing bud, and began stroking it with a single fingertip. Crying out, I threw my head back, only vaguely aware of another noise. It was the noise of the front door being opened. I turned my face just in time to see Steven slam it behind him.

  Taking in the scene, which included me on Blake's lap with his hand down my pants, Steven narrowed his eyes. "Well, well."

  With a groan, but not of pleasure, I flew up from Blake's lap. "I'm so sorry. I forgot you were coming over. And I forgot you've been just letting yourself in."

  "You have nothing to be sorry for, Kira. I realize I'm a little late, and I don't blame you for forgetting. But you, Blake...you know damn well it's my night."

  Not rising from the couch, Blake shrugged. "Well, guess what? You were late, as you yourself just admitted, so I've been enjoying myself here, and I've just decided I'm not leaving. So either you leave...or prepare to share."

  Up to this point, no plans for the two of them to pleasure me at the same time had been discussed. The possibility had definitely crossed my mind a time or two, though, never failing to make me wet almost instantly. And now, now that I'd already been incredibly aroused to begin with, Blake's suggestion that I might be "shared" not only made me even wetter, and immediately, but it made me a little weak in the knees as well.

  I looked at Steven, wondering what his response to Blake was going to be. I silently prayed that he'd refuse to leave, instead taking Blake up on his offer to "share" me.

  But before Steven could respond, a loud knock sounded at the door. And actually, it wasn't so much knocking as it was banging.

  Frowning, Steven flung open the door, revealing Marielle standing in the hall. She flew inside, seeming to be trying to catch her breath, as if she'd been running.

  "I'm sorry to just barge in like this, but I left my phone somewhere on the ground floor, so I couldn't call first, and it's an emergency."

 
; Steven frowned. "What is it?"

  "The Destroyers have taken your father hostage. And they say they'll only exchange him for Kira."

  My blood turned to ice. Blake jumped up from the couch, grabbing my hand, and led me out to the foyer where Marielle and Steven stood.

  After taking a great gulp of air, Marielle continued, looking from Steven to Blake. "Their spies must have seen her somehow when we were out touring the city. And now their new leader wants her for his own. Badly. He says he'll kill your father if Kira isn't handed over to him within ten days."

  All thoughts of being pleasured by Blake and Steven at the same time forgotten, I took a deep, steadying breath, thinking. Tom had been so kind to me, and his people needed him. I couldn't just let him be killed.

  Blake and Steven exchanged glances, their expressions nearly identical masks of shock and pain. Blake opened his mouth to speak, but before he even could, I addressed the group.