Zul nodded in understanding. He would have greatly preferred to continue the previous night’s fucking, but did not wish to harm the small female who had already captured his soul. “No, our mate must not be harmed.”
Bran’s approval washed over him. The tension in Zul’s shoulders eased, a tension he had not realized he carried until his Prime’s approval melted it. Having long since become accustomed to solitude after the deaths of his original Prime and Second, Zul had not realized how much he still craved the triad connection and a prime’s approval.
Filled with daring, Zul said, “I wish to be the one who bathes her next.”
Gil tilted his head back and grinned at him. “Bathing our mate is most gratifying, especially when she is impaled on a cock.”
The base of Zul’s horns heated as he imagined sitting in the tub with their pretty female speared upon his cock as he washed her. His kilt tented.
“He likes that idea,” Gil said with a chuckle.
“He’s not the only one,” Bran agreed, his lips curling at the flush that spread across Ursula’s face, neck, and upper chest.
Gil finished rinsing Ursula’s long white hair and squeezed out the excess water. He shifted so that she moved off his lap. Rising to his knees so his erection cleared the water, he tapped her on the shoulder and said, “I need your mouth,elska’adir.”
Ursula gave him a soft smile then braced her hands on his narrow hips and opened her mouth wide. Careful not to scrape him with her teeth, she lowered her mouth over his cock. Delicately, slowly, she began to lick and nip and suck. Steadying herself, she brought her hands into play, stroking and gently squeezing where her mouth could not reach. Gil’s mouth slackened as pleasure coursed through him, but he refrained from directing her movement or forcing her to take the whole of him down her still-raw throat.
He grunted when she brought him to completion and swallowed his release. At that point, he cupped her face and murmured words of love and praise. He brushed a wet thumb overthe corner of her mouth where a drop of semen remained, and wiped it away. Bran snapped open a large towel and lifted Ursula to her feet, wrapping the towel around her. He patted her dry, examining her with critical eyes for any bruising or abrasions. When she was dry, Bran handed her over to Zul to whom Gil had already handed a comb.
“I hope you know how to braid,” Gil said. “Ourelska’adirlikes to have her hair braided.”
Zul nodded and silently vowed to learn every variation on braiding hair. He guided his towel-wrapped mate to the vanity in her chamber and paused, trying to decide whether to sit her on the stool or to sit on the stool himself and position her on his lap. The second option won.
With a patience and care he’d not known he possessed, Zul carefully untangled her long tresses and combed them. Ursula, to his relief, did not complain of his ineptness and remained still throughout the procedure.
“I can braid it,” she offered when he laid the comb on the vanity. “If you’d hand me a ribbon, please?”
Grateful to have been released from braiding duty until he’d mastered the skill, Zul opened a drawer and pulled out a pink ribbon. He gave her a hopeful look.
She smiled at him and said, “That will do.” At his hesitance, she added, “Just set it on the vanity, please.”
He dropped the ribbon on the vanity and watched as she deftly separated her hair into three long locks and began to weave them together. One hand holding the end of the long braid, she grabbed the ribbon and wound it around the end before tying it into a tight bow. Seeing how the color of the ribbon complemented her coloring, Zul gently set his mate on her feet and stood. He crossed the room, opened her wardrobe, and began searching her garments until he found one that closely matched the ribbon’s rosy hue. He laid that gown on the bed, already refreshed and tidied by the Fangrys Triad’s efficient servants, before rummaging in the large casket set on a low table near the vanity. Soon, he found what he searched for.
“Come,” he said, extending his hand. Ursula placed her palm in his, and he drew her to him. “Allow me.”
She smiled at him and did not protest as he dressed her in the rosy gown and adorned her hair, neck, wrists, and ankles with jewelry.
“Is this a berserker thing?” she asked.
“What?”
“This penchant for dressing your mate and bedecking her with jewelry.”
He frowned. “Why do you ask?”
The smile she gave him was soft and melancholy. “Because Crow enjoyed doing that, too.”
Zul felt a tug of sadness, grief for a fierce warrior he’d never truly known, and knew it for the echo of loss whispering across the bond linking mates. He made another silent, private vow to add to her collection of jewelry. After all, he had more than sufficient funds which were yet to be mingled with the Fangrys accounts: a bonded triad sharedeverything. He pressed a kiss to her head and replied, “Then Crow had exquisite taste.”
Thus accoutred, Ursula again took the hand Zul extended to her, obligingly following along as he rejoined his triad in the corridor. In formation, they headed toward the dining room. Bran, being Prime, spearheaded the way. Gil walked beside their mate. Zul took the rear. None of them expected to be attacked in their own home, but the habits of protection were both instinctual and trained.
Ursula ate heartily, sending her compliments to the cook on the excellence of the eggs which were unlike any eggs found on Earth.
“Eggs,” Gil said between bites, “was something I cooked for our mate when she first came to us.”
Ursula snorted. “First came. You meanfirst captured.”
Bran shrugged. “It was eithercaptureyou or leave you to be eaten by an oryxis or immolated by our suns.”
