Geoffrey relished every part of their sex life—Ian’s commands and forcefulness, being made to submit, being forced to feel and let go—but if forced to pick what he loved best, Geoffrey would always choose post-orgasm, with Ian’s knot both stretching him impossibly and anchoring them together. Neither could flee, citing a million things to do and dragons to placate. They were forced to have fifteen or so minutes of togetherness that could be gainsaid by no one. It was a space in time in which Geoffrey allowed himself to be cherished.
Even as a whelp, he’d never been particularly physical. While his clutch-mates wrestled and tumbled and played on the grounds of their sire’s castle, Geoffrey preferred finding a quiet corner to curl up in the sunshine. His favorite place was the library, and in no time he went from sleeping on the books to reading them.
Ian had the opposite problem. His brothers, taking their cue from Sigric, were singularly cruel, self-serving, and ambitious, while Ian was warm like the sun and craved both affection and touch. There were times when Geoffrey wished he could be more affectionate when he and Ian weren’t naked. Failing that, he hoped Matthieu might be able to fill that gap. At the same time, he wondered what would have happened had Matthieu and Ian bonded. A part of him thought that might’ve been for the best, but most of him was terrified that had their circumstances been reversed, Ian would’ve lacked for nothing in Matthieu, and vice-versa, and there would have been no room at all for Geoffrey.
I would have been alone, he thought.Again.
It wasn’t a future he wanted. Geoffrey desired his mate with a biological imperative he couldn’t control, but also on his own merits—Matthieu was intelligent and witty and far more compassionate than either Geoffrey or Ian deserved. But Geoffrey also wanted Ian with a ferocity that hadn’t dimmed in any way. His heart constricted at the idea of losing either, or both.
Matthieu reached a hand up and lightly swatted Geoffrey on the nose. “Mauvais dragon,” he scolded—bad dragon.“Monsieur le dragon autoritaire, please tell our Geoffrey to stop thinking sad thoughts.”
Geoffrey could hear the smile in Ian’s voice. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
Matthieu’s brow furrowed. “Because he won’t listen to me like he’ll listen to you. I am part of him now, and thus can be discounted as untrustworthy and biased. You, though. You’re the…” Matthieu ruminated, and Geoffrey could feel him searching for the correct phrase. “You’re the sun in his sky.”
Geoffrey couldn’t help but snort. “What utter romantic drivel.” He kissed the mate mark on Matthieu’s shoulder that was stark evidence of the bond they shared—two side-by-side arcs, much like the silhouette of a bird in flight. Now that he’d noticed it, he found he couldn’t look away.
It was the final proof that Matthieu was a mated omega.
The same small, sad part of Geoffrey’s mind that had wondered if Ian and Matthieu wouldn’t have been perfect for each other puzzled over that mark. It was made of two arcs, not one, and perhaps that meant…
“Oui, mais c’est vrai,” Matthieu insisted, a rather sweet smile overtaking his pouty lips.
“I like that,” Ian said. “The sun in your sky. And you are the moon, Geoff. Cool and lovely and remote. Except here, with me.”
Matthieu looked over Geoffrey’s shoulder with his brows raised.
“With us,” Ian amended.
“If you’re the sun and Geoffrey’s the moon, what am I?” Matthieu demanded. His words were accompanied by a vision of a lonely comet traveling through the solar system, never leaving its orbit, held in place and incapable of moving either closer or farther away.
Geoffrey instinctively reached out to Matthieu, needing to anchor him, and pulled him closer. “Non, mon chéri. Tu es la Terre.”
“Just so,” murmured Ian. “The world.”
Our world.
Matthieu smiled wryly, but Geoffrey could feel he was pleased with the metaphor. “So you and I orbitnotre dragon soleil, I take it,” he said to Geoffrey. “His adoring satellites?”
“No, Matthieu,” Ian said. “Ignore Galileo. Geoffrey and I revolve around you. You’re our world now.”
Geoffrey felt a part of Matthieu withdraw in disbelief, and it made him ache. Ian’s sentiment was so eerily similar to his own thoughts that Geoffrey wanted to turn and look into Ian’s eyes to gauge his sincerity, but he couldn’t, anchored as he was. They needed to have this out between the three of them right now. As uncomfortable as Geoffrey was with discussing his—and others’—emotions, it had to be done, and sooner rather than later.
“I need to know—we need to know—that you mean it, Ian. Our situation isn’t normal, and it’s going to be hard. It’ll be harder if we’re not united.” Geoffrey shifted. “Other than physically, I mean, naturally.”
Matthieu rolled his eyes, but Geoffrey felt a caress of encouragement inside him.
Ian laughed softly and kissed Geoffrey’s neck. “What would I be without my earth and moon? The three of us are all bound together through ties of duty, attraction, and love. None of them are easily severed. We have become, as Matthieu so eloquently put it, indivisible. And if you continue to want me—”
Matthieu reached around Geoffrey to swat Ian. “Terrible dragon. Arrête.”
Ian laughed. “Oui chaton. Pour toi.”
The boy bristled. “Mattie is bad enough, and pet was worse, but kitten? I refuse.”
It was rather perfect, though. Matthieu was rather kittenish, with his delicate, yet sharp features, and needle-sharp teeth and claws. You stroked him wrong at your own peril.
“As I was saying,” Ian went on, “for as long as you both continue to want me, I, and all I possess, am yours. Including my heart.”
