I felt shameless and sexy pinned between them, both of them taller and stronger than me, both of whom could so easily hurt me. But in this moment, I had faith thatnothingcould touch me, that I was invincible, and moreover, that I was desirable and loved.
Edwin licked me again, sealing the wound he’d made, then righted me. “Open your eyes, love,” he prompted.
I blinked at him, fuzzy with lust and a little high from the feeding. He caressed my cheek. “You good?”
“Mmhmm.” I think I managed a lop-sided smile. “Wanna come.”
“I know you do. Want some help?”
“Yeah…” I shook my head, attempting to clear it. I wassoclose. “Maybe. Yes.” I groaned as I felt Trace’s breath gust over my cheek. “’S good.”
“Want me to play with your ears?” My cock twitched violently and I recalled our previous encounter when he’d instructed Edwin to lick the pointed tips.
“God, yeah,” I sighed. I was careering towards orgasm without any brakes and I wanted itright damn now.
Somehow, because evidently the fuckers were giving each other signals I missed, they synchronised getting their lips on me, tonguing and licking at my neck, Edwin burrowing through my hair — which I really fucking needed to get cut — until their mouths simultaneously made contact with the tips of both of my ears.
I combusted on the spot. Fireworks exploded in my brain, sparkles danced on my eyelids, my thighs wobbled, and mygrateful cock pulsed and pulsed in my underwear. Speech was beyond me. I think I groaned. Edwin groaned, Trace too. Pinching fingers stilled, and I was conscious of cum seeping into my jeans.
Panic flooded my system.What the fuck have you done?
I burst into tears.
31
EDWIN
We tookturns in babysitting James around the clock. Since his huge outburst and then his insistence on the pair of us playing with him while I fed from him, followed by his subsequent bout of tears that had lasted until he passed out from crying, his mood had shifted yet again. He didn’t seem unhappy or depressed so much as totally switched off from everything. He became little more than a doll to dress, wash, and feed. He was terrifyingly docile now, blank eyes and silent acquiescence as we kept him with us while we worked, grateful when he engaged enough to respond to the simplest of questions.
During the daylight hours when James was awake, Trace parked him on a garden chair while he worked, carefully moving the chair and James to whatever part of the garden he was currently nurturing. As soon as night fell or when they needed to eat, he’d either take James into his carriage or bring him to Bluebell where I’d take over. He stared numbly at the television if I switched it on, stood under the shower daily while I hovered, watching him in case he slid to the bottom of the cubicle like that first night when I’d thought he was taking longer than usual and found him sitting fully clothed under an ice-cold spray. Trace had concocted a potion in a hurry which we fed to James toprevent him getting sick, after I’d bundled him up in blankets and rocked him, my heart screaming with frustration that my stupid vampire body produced no heat.
While I slept, James seemed content, possibly comforted, by sleeping next to me, so my passing notion to put him back in his room never materialised into action. Trace decided he would give James space and slept in his own bedroom. I hated it and he did too, but even though we were now exchanging little more than daily kisses and occasional full-body hugs, I didn’t mind.
What I felt for Trace was no longer simply about sexual gratification, although God knew I was still gagging to be ploughed until I couldn’t recall my own name. But I finally understood I loved Trace as much as I loved James. The realisation damn near brought me to my knees. I was Edwin Marsh, vampire, manwhore, and eternally free spirit. How the hell did I fall in love with not one, but two blokes? And more confusingly, how did these two guys apparently love me back? I wasn’tthatspecial.
In fact, I wasn’t special at all. I have an appealing physical appearance, because vampires can see their reflections just fine thank you, and I’m not entirely without common sense. But I’m brash, mouthy, and given the chance, totally oversexed. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘dream boyfriend’ does it? I often wonder how Baxter puts up with me. And more than that, actively seeks out my company, especially when she’s so good at calling me out on my shit. Which she does, frequently and without mercy. It’s probably because we don’t want to bump uglies. Okay, it’s almost certainly because I’ve never felt remotely inclined to get into her knickers, or vice versa.Shudder.Women can be beautiful but I’ve never wanted to get naked with one.
So yeah, I was in lurve. And it wasawful.I had one man I barely touched and the other I was currently too scared to touch. I flip-flopped between constantly checking they were both stillhere — waking from sleep being a moment I now dreaded — and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude that they seemed to want and even need me.
It felt as if we were existing in some strange kind of limbo, but in reality it was only a week before one evening, Baxter sent me a text:
Boss man incoming, probably within the hour.
I dialled her number. “The fuck kind of notice is that, you dickhead? How long have you known? Where is he?”
“Christ, petal, keep your hair on. And don’t shout, he’s upstairs unpacking. He turned up five minutes ago. I’m as surprised as you are.”
I checked the time. “Bax, babe, it’s only barely dusk. Care to inform me exactly how our lord and master achieved this travel miracle? Please don’t tell me you’ve had a coffin delivered in full view of the neighbours? I don’t have the energy to deal with a summer funeral, even a fake one.”
Her giggle carried over the line. “He upgraded to a Council 4x4. The ones with the vamp-proof blackout windows and the screen for the back seats. Oh, and an Obscura Sack. I think he got envious of Gethin’s kit and demanded one for himself.”
I considered this for a moment. The invention of a lightweight, light-impervious magical ‘sleeping bag’ had only positive implications for any vampire wishing or needing to travel unrestricted by the sun’s position in the sky, although it was form-fitting and smelled of the magic that was part of its construction, something I personally wasn’t keen to experience for more than the two-minute trial I’d had of one. “It makes sense. It always takes Dalziel longer to try new tech than the rest of us. I swear the man was born suspicious. Who drove him down, Eleanor?”
“Nope. Isher. Dalziel says he’s useless as a substitute PA when he’s liable to fry electronics, but he trusts his drivingand he’s pleasant company.” Baxter sniffed. “Damned with faint praise, but the fella seems nice enough. He can certainly do some fancy magic.”
“And he’s easy on the eyes.”
“Yeah, he’s that too,” she sighed, a tad wistfully if I was reading her right. “I’m getting zero vibes from him that he likes women though. Aren’t the Fae supposed to be easy-osey about gender and sexuality?”
