Although it seems impossible, I focus on the hard and eager shaft between Sam’s legs. With one hand on my head and another on the base he guides me toward it and I lick the tip, tasting the familiar saltiness. He shudders when I do it again and I cry against the heat in my mouth. I never knew if I’d see them again, and to have the honor of helping bring them back to full strength is almost too much.
I lick and suck and nibble and stroke, never missing a beat. Not even when I feel the pressure behind me, when Damien rubs his fingers between my legs, making sure I’m slick and ready. Not when he slips his cock between the slick folds at the entrance to my core and eases himself inside. I gasp from the sensation, never knowing—never understanding what it could be like.
Like every encounter with my Guardians we’re in tune, in synch, with the pace and tone of our movements. Sometimes it’s about fun. Other times it’s about anger, rage, or pain. Now it’s about healing—unifying. Damien and Sam fill me in two different ways and I’ve never felt so complete.
Damien settles for a minute, giving me time to adjust to the sensation and balance it takes to handle both of them at once. When I feel I’m ready I rock back, moving my mouth and hand at the same time. It’s a slow movement and Sam props up on his elbows, fully alert and watching intently.
I like the way his eyes feel on me. I love the way Damien pushes in and out, slow and steady, hyperaware of my needs. We set a rhythm, the three of us, and soon we’re a chorus of groans and pleasure. With every connection our bond rekindles and power reestablishes. I sense movement next to Sam, the shifting of the blankets, and Clinton, who’d been out like a rock, slowly wakes.
His gray eyes take in everything, lingering on my exposed breasts, on my mouth as I work Sam into a state of sheer delight. He watches Damien who grunts with every thrust.
“Damn,” he mutters, fire igniting behind his eyes.
I lick my way up Sam’s cock and release him, keeping the friction with my hand. Sudden nerves take hold. Two men I can handle, but three? I have no idea what to do or how to do it. But I shouldn’t be nervous, because instinct takes over and I reach for Clinton, ready to bring this circle closer.
Chapter
Clinton
Gods above, after centuries of life, after plagues and battles and endless wars, I know for certain I’ve died. The Morrigan finally got me. Killed me in her filthy dungeon. I know this because an angel that looks like my soulmate is before me.
It makes sense that she’d be naked. Stripped of everything but her magnificent body. Sam’s dead too, I’m sure of it; the look on his face as she runs her tongue up and down his cock is nothing short of bliss.
Damien’s breathing comes hard, louder than a standard fantasy. I see the sweat on his chest, the exertion on his face, the red marks on Morgan’s hips from where he grips and holds her as he pounds into her relentlessly.
Even in death I grow hard at the sight of her, at the sight of this majestic scene, but dreams slip into reality when she glances my way. Her dark eyes peer into whatever remains of my soul.
Without the slightest hesitation, she reaches for me. I blink, my ears rushing with blood. Real. This is real. She is real.
I shake away the pain of the dungeon, the death and destruction fostered by a ruthless dictator, and stare at the members of my family. They’re alive and rekindling the power that will end it once and for all.
Morgan beckons and I come.
Chapter 34
Morgan
Clinton wastes no time and moves toward me, kissing me hard on the mouth. The blanket falls, revealing his erection. He may have been asleep but he’s ready now. Sam nudges my hand, encouraging me to go to him. Damien whispers in my ear, “Fuck him. Give him your light and love, Morgan,” and pulls out, leaving me crying out with sudden loss.
The despair is short-lived. Clinton is more than up to the task, lifting me over his lap until I’m straddling his hips. I have no desire to wait, lowering myself onto his throbbing erection. Damien moves to one side and Sam, stronger now, does the same. They stand next to me and while Clinton and I quickly set a pace, I reach for both of their glistening cocks as they each fondle my breasts. I feel them everywhere. Inside, outside, down every limb. I feel the heat and power from their hard, pulsing cocks. I hear the want and connection in their labored breathing. I’m raw and ready, charged and feeling the surge of power coursing through me—through us. Sam clutches my shoulder, Damien pulls my hair, and Clinton, he stares at me with such intensity it’s insane I ever thought I’d live another day without them.
We’re one.
We’re together.
We’re powerful.
In the real world, spirits don’t collide. Bodies do not work on the same time and space. But in that little cavern the three of us reach a level of pleasure, one where we stop being three different souls and forge into one ultimate power. The orgasm races up and down our bodies, tickling our senses, fraying each and every nerve. I feel it in Clinton’s final thrust, hard and pulsing. I hear it in Sam’s throat, his breath caught from his ecstasy, a groan so deep it makes me tremble. I sense it in the thick, white spurts of Damien’s cum, warm and sticky all over my hands and arms.
And it rocks me to the core, every inch of my body, across my skin—deep in the very essence of my heart. My head spins and I grow numb, my senses on complete and utter overload.
But it doesn’t matter. Three sets of hands catch me, cradle me, and love me unconditionally.
Together, we’re a united force, and I dare anyone to attempt to come between us.
Chapter
Dylan
The castle shudders. The stone shifts underfoot, like a giant sighing in relief. Casteel groans, blood trickling from the wound on his chest. Just as I have no doubt what shook the castle like an earthquake, I have no doubt the Morrigan will be here soon, looking for the cause.
Casteel makes one last effort to raise his hand at me, but I feel the buzz, a glorious, powerful buzz, and I swing my blade, lopping off his hand at the wrist. He howls in pain and swears, “She’ll castrate you for this, Sentinel. All of you.”
He grips his wrist, blood flowing quickly from the wound. He crawls toward the fire—cauterizing is his only option. The Morrigan can save him or look for me. It’s her choice. There’s another rumbling, this time cold and bitter, a storm coming from the higher parts of the castle.
Time is running out.
I run from the room, the smell of burnt flesh followed by screaming pain chases me down the hall. I turn in the direction I came in. I know where the dungeons are. I spent weeks down in the dark pits beneath the castle. Another tremor ricochets off the walls, nearly knocking me off my feet. I right myself and continue down the stairs, following the vibrations. They’re down here. I don’t know where and I don’t know how my girl pulled it off, but she got them together. She found her mates and opened conduits of energy and power. I feel it. I know it.
Now I just have to figure out where they are so I can get us all the hell out of here.
Chapter
Morgan
Wow.