“Hideous,” Beaufort says. “It wasn’t my choice. Nothing ever is.”
He stomps toward the long windows and peers out over the manicured garden, rows of neat hedgerows and pretty flowers arranged in straight orderly lines below.
Thorne is usually the melancholy one. Beaufort is always so self assured. I’ve never seen him so gloomy before.
I don’t like to see him this sad. I want to soothe away all his hurt and his pain like he has so often soothed away mine. And I know one way I can do that for him.
I nudge Dray. He lowers me to the ground and I pad across the vast bedroom, wrapping my arms around Beaufort’s waist. He jerks at first, not expecting me, then covers my hands with his and I lean into him, resting my cheek against his broad back.
“You don’t like it here, do you?” I say.
“It’s my home.”
“Well, Slate is mine and I definitely hate it.”
“I don’t hate it,” he says. “I just find it difficult sometimes.” He spins in my arms and peers down at me, then up at something above my head. I understand when I feel Dray’s arms slide around me from behind. Then I’m caught between the two of them.
My heart immediately starts to bang in my chest.
We’ve done stuff together now. But it’s always been one on one with the other watching. It’s never been all three of us at once. But I’ve been thinking about it. Of course, I have. I’ve thought about it a lot.
Beaufort lifts my chin as Dray slides my hair away from my shoulder, and then Beaufort is kissing my lips as Dray nibbles at my neck.
It already feels intense – pinned between these two shadow weavers, both of them kissing me at once and this is only the beginning, the first baby step. As if sensing my apprehension, Beaufort breaks off our kiss and stares down into my eyes.
“Okay, sweetheart. Too much?”
“No, I’m just … what if I can’t handle both of you at once?”
“Understandable concern, Kitten,” Dray murmurs against my skin. “We both have exceptionally big cocks.” He nips at my neck and grinds his own exceptionally big cock against my ass.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I say swallowing.
Beaufort trails his fingers down my throat.
“Do you trust us, Briony?”
I swallow again. Because isn’t that the question? I’m in love with them – I’m no fool, I know I am. But do I trust them? Falling into bed with them, falling in love with them – they were easy in comparison. Trusting – that’s so much harder.
And yet, I do.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I trust you.”
Something flashes in Beaufort’s eyes like he knows exactly how big a deal that confession is.
“We’ll take good care of you, sweetheart,” he says, and then he’s kissing me again, this time with more force.
His magic sparks around us. Electric and eager and Dray growls, sucking hard on my throat and grinding with more urgency.
Their actions leave me dizzy and soon I’m a simpering mess in their arms.
“We’re going to take this slowly, Briony,” Beaufort promises as he unwinds the belt around my waist, unwrapping me as if I’m a gift, and slowly unbuttoning my oversized shirt. He trails the fabric over my shoulders, caressing my skin with his magic, making it tingle. The shirt weaves down my arms and falls to the floor and then I’m standing between them in only my underwear.
Both men halt in their tracks.
I’m not wearing the plain panties and bra set I usually do. I’m wearing a set I packed from their tower. It’s scarlet lace that’s almost completely sheer.
“Fuck,” Dray mutters. “Fuck. I have exceptionally good taste.”
