Corbin’s voice faded into the background as my head throbbed. I leaned against Maeve’s shoulder, my ear pressed against her neck. Her blood pulsed, the beat of it steady and reassuring.
I breathed in her light, fruity scent. Not only was she insanely hot with all those curves, but she saved my life today,andmade a joke about Jell-O. She was basically perfect. Total girlfriend material.
Pity I was a useless boyfriend. Flirting and shagging and joking around I could do – in fact, I was thebossof those things. But Maeve’s grief was fresh and raw and written all over her face, even as she dealt with all this fae bollocks we kept throwing at her.
She needed someone who could dig deep inside her and heal that grief. And that wasn’t me. It would never be me.
I couldn’t touch pain like that without falling off the edge myself.
But Blessed Virgin Mother Mary she had me all tied up in knots. Those pouty lips, that short haircut with the vibrant pink streak, the satisfied look on her face when she clonked Blake with that spade…Maeve Moore was purefire.
Her dark eyes flicked to mine, and her hand rested against one of her full tits, and I imagined those tits free, her nipples hardening in my mouth. My dick strained against my jeans, and that made my head spin, and the whole effect was like the best kind of inebriation mixed with the worst kind of hangover.
The magic acting on Briarwood drew me toward Maeve, but if that was all it was, I’d step back and let one of the other guys have her. That would be the best solution.
But Maeve was special, and the idea of giving up the chance of shagging her to a bunch of Englishmen didn’t sit well with me. This was winner takes all – and Maeve was one hell of a prize.
Plus, I didn’t like losing to the other guys. Corbin I could live with – he was Mr. Bloody Perfect, after all – but Arthur? No fecking way.
We were getting closer to D-day – the day Maeve found out who she truly was, and the day she’d have to choose among us.
And even though I knew it was a bloody stupid idea, I was going to do whatever I could to make sure she chose me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MAEVE
Isprawled across the sofa in the great hall, staring up at the ceiling beams and hanging swords criss-crossing over my head. The fire blazed beside me, warming my naked skin. My eyes felt heavy, and a taste of honey lingered on my lips.
I’d been drinking mead, and somehow I’d discarded all my clothes. But why wasn’t I in my room? Where was everyone else?
A hand snaked across my stomach, the touch lighting my skin on fire. Flynn’s face appeared in front of mine, his face smooth again, no trace of the fae’s magic on his temples. The firelight flickered in his bright blue eyes, making his freckles stand out. His wicked smile gave me flutters in my chest.
“Maeve, you have to choose,” he said.
I started to ask him what I was choosing, but he smothered my lips in his.
Flynn stole my breath with his kiss – hot and smoky and full of raw passion. The fire in Flynn’s lips seared straight to my core, which pulsed with an urgency I’d never experienced before.
I nibbled his lower lip, and the moan that escaped his lips made my whole body shudder.
As Flynn’s tongue stroked mine, another warm mouth closed over my nipple. A tongue swirling around, hardening it intoa pebble. My eyes flickered past Flynn’s face, and there was Rowan, his dark eyes raw with hunger. A loose dreadlock fell over his face, tickling the bare skin of my stomach. His tongue lapped around my nipple, sending a shiver of delight through my body. His delicate hands traced lines along my collarbone, his touch so soft, so caring.
“You have to choose, Maeve.” Rowan’s voice trembled against my nipple.
I moaned against Flynn as shivers rocketed along my body. Rowan’s dark skin against mine burned like fire.
A mouth closed around the other nipple, and rough hair tickled my skin. “You have to choose, Maeve.” Arthur’s kind eyes penetrated mine as he grazed his teeth across the sensitive bud until I was gasping his name.
Oh yes.
Three guys, all touching me, all worshipping my body with their hot mouths and daring fingers. Their eyes burning with lust, with need, with the knowledge that I wanted them just as much as they wanted me.
Another hand stroked my leg, starting from my toes and walking across my skin. The fingers weaved and danced across the arch of my foot, over the backs of my knees, along my thigh. My body ached as the fingers darted closer, closer…
“You have to choose, Maeve, luv.”
His husky voice rippled through me.
