The heat of their skin, their breath in my hair and against my mouth, it all combines until I’m consumed by the sensation of being theirs.
I turn my head so I can take Roman in my mouth, while both men fuck me between them.
It takes a moment, but we find a rhythm.
Malachi presses his thumb to my clit, and sparks shoot through me. In my head, I’m thinking ‘h fuck, oh fuck,’ but my mouth is filled with Roman’s cock and all I can make is choking sounds.
My pussy clamps down and squeezes tight as pleasure explodes through my core, radiating out, and making my entire body shiver. Mal pushes deep, and I milk him, rippling around him.
Behind me, Cain lets out a growl of pleasure, rumbling deep in my ear, and I feel him jerk inside me. I barely have a moment to come down from my orgasm when Roman fists my hair and releases himself down the back of my throat. He twitches a couple of times then softens and pulls himself from my mouth. He returns to the spot at the base of the tree and picks something up.
Before I’ve barely caught my breath, Roman returns with a long silk ribbon which he uses to bind our hands together—Cain’s below mine, Malachi above, and Roman’s on top. He mutters words I can’t quite catch, but I know they’re part of the ritual.
“We’ve consummated our relationship now,” he finishes. “And we are bound to each other, protected against outside threats.” He loosens the silk and steps back.
Malachi chuckles. “I think we may have already done the consummation bit the countless other times we’ve fucked.”
I reach out and slap his bicep.
Roman carries on, unperturbed by Mal’s snarky comment. “We’re all as one. The four of us. And nothing will come between that.”
CHAPTER 35
Ophelia
It’s beena couple of days since the ritual, and things have been good. Cain has talked about going home at some point to help his brother, but he’s spoken to Samuel on the phone, and Sam insists everything is fine. It would seem even their mother is relieved at the news of her husband’s death, and the mood at home is more celebratory than mourning, so there’s no rush for Cain to leave.
On a purely selfish level, I’m happy about that. Yes, maybe Cain should be with his family, but we’re his family now, too, and I don’t think it would do Cain any good to be away from us. Not when his birth family caused him so much trauma and pain. It certainly won’t do me any good to have him far away.
I’ve just exited my calculus class, which I’m loving, and the air is chilled in the hallway. I stare at some of the heavy oil paintings adorning the walls and think how ancient this place is. Mackenzie told me that when she first started here, women weren’t allowed to take classes like calculus, but, over time, her influence over Dom and his father has changed things. I’m clutching my books to my chest when one of the other students, a girl with red hair whose name I don’t know, catches my attention.
“Ophelia, you’re wanted in the dean’s office.”
My stomach drops as I flash back to the last time I heard those words, when my parents were waiting to take me away. What now? Can’t I ever catch a break?
“Do you know what it’s about?” I ask.
She shrugs. “No, sorry.”
I don’t want to bother the Preachers with this. They’re already at their classes or in the gym, or in Roman’s case maybe communing with nature, and whatever else they get up to when we’re not in the water tower, together. Life has slipped into some kind of normality, and I’m grateful for that.
But the knowledge that I need to see the dean tears at old wounds, and I wonder if I’m being stupid not at least calling one of them. I can’t always run to them, though, whenever I’m faced with any kind of threat or difficulty. I must start to stand on my own two feet, too. Mind made up, I straighten my shoulders and give the girl a small smile.
“Okay, I’ll head right there.”
I turn in the opposite direction and rush toward the dean’s office. I’m praying it won’t be anything important, but I also know I wouldn’t have been asked there if it wasn’t.
I lightly knock on the door and wait for him to call ‘enter’ before stepping inside. He’s sitting behind his desk, a handsome man, despite being middle-aged.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Ophelia, yes. I’ve had your father on the phone. He needs to speak with you, and it’s urgent.”
The sinking feeling hits twice as hard, and I hold back a groan. I still love my dad, but I don’t really want to speak to him. I’ve ignored a couple of calls from him, thinking he was just trying to make amends. I hope he’s feeling guilty over what he did to Roman, though I doubt that would be a reason for him to contact me through the dean. A second thought jumps into myhead. What if my mom is sick? Maybe that’s why he’s calling the dean.
“He wants you to call him back immediately.”
Nataniele pushes his landline phone in my direction. I pick it up and call my parents’ house. My heart pounds as the number rings.
