by Ivy Asher
Flint snorts, but I can tell it’s gonna take more than one joke to pull him the rest of the way out of his dark thoughts.
He lifts my wing higher, and I try not to acknowledge what it’s doin’ to me. Who knew wings could be an erogenous zone? I feel like maybe Delta should’ve warned me or somethin’. Then again, I doubt either of us gave much thought to whether I’d be sportin’ a pair so soon. I hadn’t even processed the fact that I could have wings of my own.
She didn’t seem to be too thrilled about her set, but I’m excited. Well, aside from the fact that they’re purple. Green would’ve been more my style, but wings are wings. Once everythin’ calms down, flyin’ lessons are the first thing on my agenda.
Flint tosses more glass to the corner, and I try not to think about the sting at my back as he goes, so I keep my mind occupied by wonderin’ about what other abilities might come to me. Will I instinctually take to the wings like I did with the scythe? Delta indicated that learnin’ wards and things was difficult, so I’m not sure what to expect.
My thoughts drift to her and the talk we had this afternoon. I have a sister. It’s weird to say that, and yet at the same time, it feels oddly natural. Before those demons showed up, everythin’ was goin’ well between us. She was easy to talk to, and I felt connected to her, which I suppose isn’t too strange because we’re sisters, so maybe it’s in our blood to be linked. Which makes sense, since it seemed to be her blood that broke the rest of my wards and turned me into a purple demon bird. Maybe it’s a twin bond thing.
No, not twins. Triplets, my mind corrects.
Sable.
I can’t help but wonder if she’s okay. Did she find a nice family after the ones Nefta left her with gave her up? Worry trickles through me at that thought, and I fear that the answer to that question might be bleak. What kind of people give up a three-year-old? What’s the likelihood that she would’ve found a warm and lovin’ home after that? I got lucky, but what if she didn’t?
I shove my pessimism away. I found good parents, so it’s not impossible. There’s still hope.
Seemingly satisfied, Flint lowers my wing and moves on to the other. I can’t hide the shiver that runs through me as his hands work the purple appendage, checkin’ for glass through the feathers. I bite my lip, wonderin’ what he thinks about them. His hands move gently as he checks beneath the feathers, and even though he’s touchin’ me to ensure he gets every shard out, I feel like he’s workin’ my body into a frenzy instead.
I hear him take long, deep, measured breaths like he’s tryin’ to calm himself, and I search through my troubled mind for a topic we can discuss that will distract us both.
“So, mate, huh?” I ask and then instantly want to facepalm.
Yeah, I’m infinitely curious about the term he applied to me not just once but twice. Although right now, when he’s pissed and cold and hard, it’s probably not the time to bring it up.
Flint man-grunts. “Don’t you start,” he snaps at me, and irritation lights up my insides. Here I am, tryin’ to make the ass feel better, and he’s gonna snap at me? I don’t think so.
I stew on his terse tone and clipped words as he pulls the rest of the glass from my back and then lowers my wing. I move further under the showerhead, forcin’ Flint to back up or embrace the wing-chest bump. Naturally, he backs up. Stubborn ass.
I reach for the small bottle of shampoo and quickly wash my new lilac strands, conditionin’ them just as fast.
He stands stock still, his back pressed against the tile wall, his hands fisted at his sides. Droplets keep landin’ on his face and chest, and water has saturated his blue jeans, makin’ the fabric cling to his hard body. But he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t reach for me. I grit my teeth in frustration.
I threw myself at them before, and we’ve been flirtin’ for weeks, but every time I think we’re gonna get somewhere, they just won’t cross that line with me. And yet he’s gonna go and call me their mate? He’s gonna stand here while I’m wet and naked, and not say or do a damn thing, and make me feel unwanted and undesirable? Enough is enough.
“Look, I’m appreciative of everythin’ that you and Alder have done to keep me and my family safe, but if you think for one second that you can snap at me like that, you’ve mistaken who I am,” I say evenly.
His eyes flare, his mouth pressin’ into a thin line, but I face him, lettin’ both the steam and my emotions billow between us.
“We ain’t some bickerin’ couple. You don’t get to fast forward this relationship, whatever this damn thing is between us. If you don’t want me, then just stop with the mixed signals, because I can’t take it,” I say, eyes burnin’. “But if you meant that mate thing, then don’t do this. Don’t snap at me like that when all I’m tryin’ to do is make you feel better. We sure as hell ain’t goin’ straight to fightin’ and arguin’, without havin’ visited the good things first, like sex, and intimacy, and cuddlin’, and, and…”
I struggle to think of other fun things that couples do, but I come up blank. Damn, I should’ve stewed longer. I come up with the best arguments when I can stew in the shower for an adequate amount of time.
“Whatever. You know what I mean,” I tell him dismissively with a wave of my hand. “Point is, don’t snap at me because you’re tryin’ to stay emotionally and physically distant. Don’t take your anger out on me because you were worried about me. I’m fine, so you can just stop pitchin’ a hissy fit, and I don’t know, maybe appreciate the damn fact that I’m standin’ here naked!” I finish angrily. “And I swear to all that is holy, if you tell me I’m havin’ an itch and tuck me in bed, I will castrate you in your sleep.”
Flint’s eyes narrow slightly, and my chest heaves in aroused anger, because dammit, I can’t help bein’ affected by him, and it pisses me off that he can. But then, in the next breath, I’m up and over his shoulder and he’s carryin’ me drippin’ wet out of the bathroom.
“Really?” I squeal, my hands slappin’ against his bare back. “You went full caveman, just like that, when I’m tryin’ to talk? I’m not even the one who said mate first! You did! Twice. If you didn’t want me to ask about it, you shouldn’t have called me your mate in front of everyone, but you did, so we are gonna talk about it, dammit!” I scold as he carries my naked ass into the room.
For some reason, I picture him puttin’ me in the stocks so he can keep me pinned in place while dodgin’ even more uncomfortable questions while starin’ at my ass. I wonder whether this place would have some stocks just lyin’ around, but it looks medieval enough, so I don’t rule it out.
I’m flipped over Flint’s shoulder, and I squeal in surprise as I bounce on a very comfortable mattress. Guess I called the whole stocks thing wrong.
“What are you doin’?” I ask, sittin’ up on my elbows to glare at Flint where he stands at the foot of the bed. I don’t cover my nakedness, because I want him to look. I want him to break. I want to get through the hard walls of this marbled male and get to the center of what we have between us, because I can’t bear to be rejected again.
Breathin’ hard, Flint leans down, fists against the footboard as his face inches closer. Wet and shirtless, water drips from his black hair down the planes of his chest, slippin’ down the crevices of his musculature until finally soakin’ into the waistband of his jeans.
When he makes a low noise in his throat, my eyes flick back up to his face. “What am I doing?” he repeats in a low growl. “I’m making sure we do the fun stuff like sex, and intimacy, and cuddling, and shit,” he announces, and then those strong hands of his go down to the button of his pants.
I gulp, my eyes widenin’ at the implications of what he just said. “Oh. Well...okay then,” I answer breathlessly, but I can’t take my eyes off his hands as he pushes the pants off his hips in one fluid movement.
I’m gettin’ water all over the bed, which I should feel bad about, but all I can focus on is Flint’s naked body as he stands there proudly, cock as stiff as a ro
d.
Hot damn.
It’s one thing to hear him call me his mate, and it’s another to see the physical evidence that he’s not as unfazed by me as I thought he was. I send a silent thank you to the Heavens and then to Hell, just in case, as Flint prowls onto the bed and crawls up my body.
His cool skin caresses my chest, and his pecs skim my peaked breasts as he closes the distance between us. I try not to hyperventilate as I spread my legs and welcome him between my thighs. He supports his weight on thick, corded arms and stops when his lips are just an inch from mine, his face hoverin’ so close, and yet not close enough.
“Medley,” he says, my name spoken with reverence as hot breath curves over my face, his expression filled with contrition and hunger.
“Yeah?” I squeak.
“I do want you. I’ve never wanted anything more. You are my mate. You’re Alder’s mate. You’re ours,” he says, every single word spoken with a tone that has zero room for argument.
My breath hitches in my throat like a horse to a post.
His eyes flick between mine. “I’m sorry that we didn’t make that clear with you from the start, but we didn’t want to scare you off. You were raised human. We didn’t know how to do this, and we didn’t want to rush you. But you were ours as soon as you walked into the bar. We ain’t gonna let you go. Ever,” he tells me, and my chest constricts with the weight of his words, because damn. I’ve been confused and worried, and he just laid it all out as bare as our bodies are.
“You good with that?” he asks me quietly, his now molten gaze reachin’ into my soul and warmin’ me completely.
“Yeah,” I answer simply, but I’m suddenly nervous. I’m unable to deny that the two of them are the pieces I need to make my picture right, but what does this mean? What’s gonna happen?
I’ve never even kissed them. I’ve fantasized about it so many times, but it’s never happened. And now, I’m just all on board with this whole mate thing like Delta is? Am I right to follow my instincts? Or am I bein’ naive?
I think back to my conversation with Delta, and what she said when I asked about the whole four hot lovers thing and how it happened. She’d said it was natural, that it just felt right, and that she’s never regretted it a day since. And that’s what this feels like. Society and what’s “normal” is makin’ me pause, but not them. Not the naturalness I feel every time I’m with them.
Flint watches me like he can see the debate in my gray eyes—at least, I hope they’re still gray. I didn’t check.
I reach up and cup his cheek, banishin’ the doubt and worry from my expression. “Yes,” I answer again, more sure this time as I run my thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t know exactly what bein’ a mate means, but I’ve been stuck in a whirlpool as soon as I met you two, and this feels right. I probably should doubt it more, but I don’t want to.”
“You never have to doubt us.”
With his declaration, his mouth descends, lips hard against mine. I lie back and take him with me as he devours any concern or questions I have, replacin’ them with reassurance and conviction and finally crossin’ that line.
His tongue dances with mine as he strokes my desire and need to another level. After all the close proximity and desire and flirtation, the build-up brought us to this moment right here at last.
I moan into his mouth, and he swallows it down, ready and more than willin’ to give me more to moan about. He grinds against me, fittin’ his cock between my thighs to rub through my folds. Our kisses are hard and frantic, and I wiggle my hips in an effort to catch the tip of him right where I want it, but Flint pulls back, and I groan an objection.
He nuzzles his nose against my neck. “I want to play with you. Feel you. Touch you,” he tells me, breathin’ his sensual words against my jaw until he licks at the seam of my mouth. “Waited so long…”
I trap his bottom lip with my teeth and suck on it, pullin’ him back down into a deep kiss. “Play with me later. Take me now. Please?” I beg shamelessly.
I’ve been wantin’ this and thinkin’ about it for weeks, and I’m ready. I don’t need anythin’ else to get me there, I could come from his kiss alone. I just want him inside of me. I need it like I need my next breath, like I need—
Flint pushes his rigid cock into me without argument, and I throw my head back and let out a garbled noise as he fills me up. He achieves the perfect balance between rough and controlled, and when his hips press into my open thighs, I feel like I’ve reached a level of ecstasy I didn’t know about.
“God, yes,” I breathe, my back archin’ up, bendin’ to his force like willow branches in a breeze.
He groans, his fingers palmin’ my ass. “Up, Peaches,” he says gruffly, his hands already movin’ around my hips to help me sit up until I’m situated on his cock, my ass nestled in his lap and our faces an inch apart.
With a fierce hunger in his eyes, he grips my ass and then starts to work in and out of me slowly at first, hittin’ a part in me so deep that I don’t think it’s ever been touched before. Gradually, he moves faster, jerkin’ his hips up at the same time that he bounces my body up and down over his hard length.
He feels so damn good, and I pant and encourage him as he drops kisses down my neck. I hold up my breasts to him like an offerin’, and he pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. Flint squeezes my other breast, and I love every second of his passionate touch as he starts to take me faster and harder, coaxin’ prayers from my lips and words of worship for his body as it moves all around me.
“I’m claiming you, Medley Bell,” he says against my lips just before he licks a line down the curve of my neck. “Do you feel it?”
My stomach flips at his words at the same time that he hooks an arm under my knee. He tilts my pelvis at a new angle, and I lean back, one arm braced behind me as I help move my body up and down over his shaft.
“I asked you a question,” he says, nippin’ me on the breast hard enough that I cry out.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I call out breathlessly, both in a mantra of encouragement to never stop and in answer to his possessive question.
I hear the sound of a door closin’, but I’m too wrapped up in the orgasm that’s buildin’ in my core to care. “Right there, Flint. Yes,” I pant, tossin’ my head back, lettin’ the long locks tickle the sheets on the bed. “Now fuck me harder, Countertop,” I tease, and he growls and turns my smile into a cry of appreciation.
“You gonna come for me, Peaches? Come all over my cock, and then my face, and my fingers later?” I moan at his filthy words. “I’m gonna wring you out so good, there’ll be nothing left to make a cobbler with,” he growls in my ear and then sucks on my neck.
I laugh, knowin’ I’ll never look at that dessert the same, but I’ll be damned if I’m not here for it, mind, body, and soul.
“Cobbler that peach,” I encourage, snortin’ out a giggle that Flint’s cock once again turns into a moan.
“Oh Lord, I’m gonna come, Flint,” I announce, and his hand digs into my scalp as he yanks me up against him, kissin’ me deeply as my orgasm builds to its crescendo.
“There’s my beautiful girl. Come for me. Let me feel that pussy pulse around me while I watch you come. Come for me, come on, come on,” he demands, and I happily give in.
My orgasm cuts through me like a hot knife of pleasure, splittin’ me open. I curl against his chest and bite his shoulder as my moans muffle into his hard skin. He grabs my breast hard as he times his hard thrusts with the ripples of my ecstasy.
I mewl as he works me harder, and before I even know I can, he sends me right off another cliff before I’ve even finished fallin’ off the first one. Flint drops me into pure tinglin’ pleasure, playin’ my body like it’s his favorite instrument. I cry out incoherently, pepperin’ the room with yesses and moans. My pussy contracts around his cock, and Flint groans deeply, his arms bandin’ around me like he’s never gonna let me go.
One more hard thrust, and I feel his hips jerk up
, and then he spills himself inside of me while he whispers in my ear. “You’re ours, Medley. You’re fucking ours, and we’re yours. That’s what it means to be our mate.”
My forehead presses against his shoulder, and I answer in a resoundin’ and very satisfied, “Mmm.”
I like the sound of that.
26
The two of us are breathin’ heavily, floatin’ in pure pleasure. Flint looks at me, his eyes no longer carryin’ any hint of the anger or fear I saw in them before. It does incredible things to my soul to know that I pulled him away from those overwhelmin’ and angry emotions.
I feel powerful and revered with him between my thighs, and he must see that in my gaze because he chuckles and then kisses me deeply. This kiss is slower, languid, like he’s savorin’ me. I happily join along for the ride, my interest peaked that he seems to be revvin’ up so that we can go again instead of slowin’ down like I’d expect after the life shatterin’ sex that just happened.
Flint lifts me off his lap to pull out of me, and then his hand snakes down my abdomen and he parts my lips, pushin’ two fingers inside of me. My breath catches in surprise, and my stomach flips at the intimate intrusion. It’s not nearly as satisfyin’ as his cock just was, but when he swirls the digits and then hooks them up, findin’ my G-spot like he had a map to its exact location, my pussy has no choice but to perk back up and pay excited, rapt attention.
“I love the feel of our cum mixing,” Flint murmurs. I scrunch up my face, and he laughs at my expression before pressin’ the palm of his hand to my clit.
I whimper.
“See, you love the feel of it too,” he teases.
I flop back on the bed, fallin’ into the feel of him playin’ with me. But when my upside down gaze lands on a heated butterscotch stare at the foot of the bed, I freeze. “Uhhh, hey,” I squeak out in surprise. Flint doesn’t whip his head around or stop what he’s doin’. Nope, he just keeps curlin’ those fingers inside of me, makin’ me jolt. I have a feelin’ he knew Alder was there all along.
