Authors: Trista Ann Michaels
Keenas held himself still and moved her hips forward, pushing her off his cock and along Jorel’s length. Just as her clit reached the tip of Jorel, Keenas pulled her hips back, sliding her along Jorel on the outside and along his length on the inside. She gasped at the dual sensation, the utterly delicious feel of both of them -- one inside and one out.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she whimpered as he did it again, making her shudder in complete delight.
His rhythm increased, moving her faster along both of them and, unbelievably, she felt the stirrings of another explosive orgasm. She tensed, knowing this one would be more than she could handle, more than she wanted. But Keenas was relentless, moving her against him, filling her pussy so deep it felt as though he was in her chest. Jorel kept pinching her nipples, his lips nibbling at her neck. She couldn’t hold back any longer and screamed as wave after wave of pleasure raced through her body. Jorel groaned a second later, his arms lifting to wrap around her back as she fell forward, swallowed by darkness and exhaustion.
Keenas thrust one final time, emptying his seed yet again into her tight channel. God, she was like a glove, squeezing him like a vise as he erupted into her hot little body. He stared wide-eyed at where their bodies joined, shocked that he’d come again so soon. Looked like Jorel had as well.
His brother lay beneath Rhianna, his arms cradling her relaxed body. “Is she okay?” Keenas croaked.
“Just passed out. I’m close myself. I can’t believe I fucking came again.” Keenas snorted, then pulled free of Rhianna. “Neither can I.” The cool air hit his wet cock and he hissed, wanting to slide back into her heat and stay forever. God, he felt like he’d just lost his soul to the tiny woman cradled within Jorel’s arms.
“Get her into bed, Keenas. She’s exhausted,” Jorel murmured.
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Keenas nodded, then leaned down to lift her in his arms. “No,” she murmured, pushing at his hands. “No more. I can’t.”
“Shhh, sweet. No more. I’m just putting you to bed,” he whispered and she relaxed, going limp as he lifted her from Jorel’s lap.
He smiled slightly, enjoying the feel of her trusting body snuggling within his arms.
Leaning down, he lay her on the bed and covered her with a blanket he found at the foot of the mattress.
“Sleep, my sweet love,” he whispered and rubbed at her smooth cheek with the back of his knuckles.
Jorel joined them and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
“God help me, Jorel, if it turns out she’s not the princess,” Keenas sighed.
Jorel stood and stared at him, surprise evident in his stare. “You’re in love with her.”
“And you’re not?” Keenas growled softly, careful not to wake Rhianna.
With a nod, Jorel turned to look at the sleeping beauty on the bed. “I am,” he sighed.
“I’ll be honest. I was terrified if I fell in love, I would hate seeing you with her. But it doesn’t bother me.”
“It’s because it’s meant to be this way, Keenas. She’s ours. She’s always been ours.” 68
Early the next morning, Keenas rolled to his side, watching Rhianna sleep in the massive bed. Her tiny body nestled between him and his brother. For a woman, she was actually tall, inheriting her height from her father’s side of the family. But in comparison to him, she was tiny.
Her red hair spilled out along the light blue of the pillows, her angelic face relaxed in sleep. She hadn’t moved at all most of the night, which was a sure sign she’d been exhausted, probably from both the travel here and the sex last night. Just thinking about it now made his cock spring to life. Unfortunately, her brother would be here soon and there wasn’t time for that.
He had mixed feelings about Devlin showing up. On one hand, he wanted Rhianna to be happy and he knew seeing the man who’d raised her would make her happy. On the other hand…there was jealousy. He’d never had to deal with that emotion and it bothered him. He was terrified that once she saw Devlin, she’d want to leave. She’d turn her back on everything here -- and him.
A soft knock sounded at the door and he lifted the edge of the sheet to cover Rhianna’s bare shoulder. “Enter,” he said softly, making her stir, but she remained asleep.
Simi stuck his head in the door and waited for Keenas to acknowledge him.
“What is it?” Keenas asked, then nudged his brother on the shoulder, waking him.
“Your guests have arrived.”
“Already?” He glanced toward the window, noting it was still dark outside. “They’re early.”
“Yes, sir. I get the impression Devlin is anxious to see the queen.”
“Of course he is,” Keenas replied with a sigh and rolled his eyes toward Jorel, who watched him over Rhianna’s shoulder with amusement.
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“You can’t keep him away forever, brother,” Jorel said, a slight grin tugging at his lips.
“What’s the matter? Afraid he’s going to steal her away?” At the pointed look he sent him, Jorel’s smile faded. “Oh my God, you are.”
Keenas sighed and slid out from under the covers to sit on the side of the bed. “Let’s just get this over with.”
* * * * *
Devlin stepped off the shuttle they’d used to fly to the surface of Argonia and took a deep breath of clean mountain air. It was a beautiful morning and he’d felt much better since he’d been able to once again pick up Rhia’s emotions. Currently she was asleep, but what he’d felt most had been confusion and fatigue. At least it hadn’t been fear and pain. That would have driven him mad. Stefan, Taron, and Damon came to stand next to him as they waited for their escorts to take them inside the castle. They would meet the kings in the conference room and, hopefully, they would have Rhia with them.
As he walked across the platform, a sense of anxiety gripped him. It wasn’t Rhia, though. His steps faltered slightly as he tried to figure out who it was. It made no sense and he shook his head, trying to dislodge the hopelessness gripping his mind.
“What’s wrong, Devlin?” Taron asked softly from beside him.
Devlin shook his head, his fingers squeezing at his temples. “I don’t know.”
“Rhia?”
“No. Someone else.”
“It’s not like you to pick up strangers and we’re too far away for you to be picking up the wives.”
“No.” Devlin frowned and tried to shove the emotions away to the back of his mind and block them out. “It’s someone I know, but…”
“But what?” Taron asked as they stepped through the gate and into the inner garden of the castle courtyard.
“It can’t be who I think it is.”
“Devlin,” Taron growled. “Who do you think it is?” Devlin took a deep breath before continuing. He had to be mistaken. “She’s dead, Taron. It has to be a ghost sensation. It can’t be her.” Taron came to a stop, his hands on his hips. “Skylar?” The other two men stopped and turned to look at them in question at Taron’s raised voice. “What about Skylar?” Stefan asked, his brows drawn together in a scowl.
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Skylar had been his life five years ago. She’d been his everything and he’d lost her when she was murdered right in front of him. He refused to go down this road. He was mistaken and that was final.
“It’s nothing,” he stated firmly, giving his best friend a scowl that would send most men running.
Taron spread out his arms, letting it go, then turned to follow the escort. They were led through a back entrance into the castle and down a long corridor to a huge room. A lone table sat in the middle with eight chairs around it for guests. On the table sat an assortment of food and pastries, coffee and Argonian tea. It was definitely a spread fit for a king and his guests.
“Great, food,” Taron said with a grin as he dug into the trays. “I’m starving.” Damon snorted, then shook his head at his son, his lips twitching in an amused grin.
“When are you not hungry, Taron?”
“I’m a growing boy,” he answered as he glanced at his father through his lashes.
“The kings will be with you shortly,” their escort said, then bowed before closing the double doors, leaving them alone in the room.
Devlin immediately began to pace, anxious for this meeting to be over with. “What’s taking them so long?”
“They’re probably sleeping…” Taron’s lips spread into a grin around the pastry he’d just taken a bite of, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “Either that or they’re enjoying their new wife.”
Devlin scowled, his anger boiling just under the surface. “Fuck you,” he snapped, making Taron chuckle.
“Taron, you’re not helping matters,” Damon said, his voice firm, but his eyes crinkled with barely contained laughter.
“He needs to relax,” Taron drawled as he dropped his muscular body into a chair and propped his feet on the edge of the table. “If he doesn’t, he’s going to fly off the handle and start a damn war.”
“Yes, but somehow I doubt telling him the kings are upstairs fucking his sister is going to calm him,” Stefan said before smacking the back of Taron’s bald head with his palm.
Taron growled and reached back to rub at the spot that was quickly turning red. “He should get used to the idea,” Taron replied, then glanced at a murderous Devlin. “She may decide to stay, Devlin.”
“I know that,” Devlin said with a sigh. “And if she does, it’s her decision.”
“But?” Damon asked with a grin.
“But nothing,” he growled and returned to his agitated pacing.
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“So she’ll have two husbands, Dev. You, of all people, should know how pleasurable a ménage can be for a woman. Hell, Alyssa has been after me to get you over…” Devlin turned to glance at Taron with a startled expression and Stefan coughed, almost choking on the sip of tea he’d just taken. “Excuse me?” Stefan asked with a chuckle. “You and Devlin shared Alyssa?”
“Ah, damn. I forgot you didn’t know about that.” Taron sighed, then glared at his brother. “One word to Alyssa that you know…” He pointed a finger at both Stefan and his father. “Either of you let on and I’ll have your heads.”
“You shared your wife with Devlin?” Damon asked in stunned amusement.
“It was before we were married. When we were on Veenori and she thought she was my slave.”
“You didn’t…” Stefan started, and Taron jerked upright, sending his brother a scowl.
“No, I didn’t make her. It was her idea.”
“Her idea?” Damon asked.
“Yes. If Devlin hadn’t walked in on us at the time, she might never have mentioned it.”
“Walked in on you?” Stefan asked, his lips twitching.
Devlin rolled his eyes. “Yes, I walked in as she was giving him a blowjob. Anything else you want to know, like how we did it, perhaps?” Stefan laughed and held up his hand. “Thank you, but no. It just surprises me, that’s all.
Taron is so damn possessive.”
Taron snorted. “Like you’re not?”
“Well, you have a point there,” Stefan drawled with a grin.
Devlin looked to Damon, who still stood at the other end of the table, a look of surprise on his face. “You never shared your wife, Damon?” Devlin asked.
Stefan immediately held up a hand, stopping his father. “Don’t answer that. At least not in front of me. I have no desire to hear about my parents’ sexual escapades.” Taron and Devlin burst out laughing. It was the first time in days Devlin had let himself relax enough to laugh, and it felt good.
The double doors opened and the four of them silenced immediately, turning to stare at the Argonian kings now standing within the opening. They were identical, except for their expressions. One looked stern, almost angry, while the other appeared more relaxed, amused even, as he watched them with black eyes identical to his brother’s.
“Where the hell is Rhia?” Devlin snapped.
Damon came over to place his hand on his shoulder. “Down, big guy,” he murmured, then turned to the kings. “Keenas and Jorel. It’s good to see you again.”
“You as well, Damon,” the stern one replied as he stepped forward, taking Damon’s outstretched hand, then turned to Damon with a frown. “And you must be Armande.” 72
“Yes,” he said with barely restrained contempt. “And you are?”
“Keenas, your sister’s first husband. This is my younger twin, Jorel.” He turned to wave a hand toward the other twin still lounging in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Your sister’s second husband.”
“I have not heard from her that she has accepted this.”
“Neither have we,” Jorel replied from the doorway and Keenas sent him a scowl. Jorel frowned back. “Don’t give me that look, Keenas.”
“I want to see Rhia,” Devlin demanded, barely holding back the desire to ram his fist into Keenas’s face.
“She will be here shortly. I wanted words with you first.”
“Fine,” Devlin growled. “Speak.”
Taron raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair. Stefan watched warily as Damon stood by to come between the two of them if necessary.
“How did you come to be her guardian?” Keenas asked.
“Short version. She was alone on the orphan freighter. We crashed on Veenori and I wanted to protect her.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“No,” Jorel answered with a sigh from his position in the doorway.
“Shut up, Jorel,” Keenas snarled, turning to glare at his brother.
“I will not,” Jorel snapped back. “I also won’t stand here and let you harass Armande.
He did well with Rhianna, Keenas. You’re just upset because she misses him so much.” Stefan hid a grin behind a pastry, as did Taron. “I’m glad the two of you find this so amusing,” Devlin snarled, making their grins widen all the more.
“I don’t find it amusing at all,” Keenas growled. “What the hell have you taught her?
Her language is atrocious. She even knows how to crosswire. Why did you teach her that?”
“Crosswire?” Taron asked in surprise. “I didn’t know she knew how to do that.” Devlin rubbed the back of his neck, his face reddening in guilt. “I taught her when she was twelve. She ah…followed me one time when I was doing a job for my adopted father, Bleegot.” Devlin added quietly with a shrug, “I let her help me.” Stefan and Taron busted out laughing, while Damon cursed softly beside him. Keenas and Jorel, on the other hand, looked confused.
Keenas looked ready to commit murder as he rounded on Devlin. “You taught my wife how to steal?”
“She wasn’t your wife at the time, Davole.”
“The hell she wasn’t! She’s been my wife since she was born!”
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“Guys,” Taron cautioned as he stood from his chair. But Keenas ignored him, moving closer to stand nose to nose with Devlin.
“What were you thinking, teaching her that? She hot-wired my shuttle bay doors in an effort to steal a shuttle and escape. Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?”
“She wouldn’t have been in any danger at all if you hadn’t kidnapped her to begin with!”
“Guys!” Taron yelled, this time a little louder.
“Let them get it out of their system,” Jorel said as he came to sit in a chair next to Taron. “It will be better on all of us if they do.” Damon came forward, stepping between them. With a hand on each of their chests, he shoved, pushing them apart. “That’s enough, both of you.” Devlin made a move toward Keenas, and Damon shoved again, this time with more force. “Damn it, Devlin. I said enough. Now sit down.” Turning, he sent Keenas a scowl. “You, too.”
“Why did you have to kidnap her? Why didn’t you just tell her she was your queen?” Devlin demanded as he took the seat across the table from Keenas.
Keenas sighed, then leaned back in the chair, his gaze narrowed and angry. “I did.”
“After we took her,” Jorel offered and Keenas sent him a murderous scowl.
Jorel’s lips twitched in amusement and Devlin took a moment to study him. Jorel found the whole thing amusing. Not the argument, but his brother. Why? Narrowing his gaze, he studied Keenas more closely and what he felt surprised him.
“You’re in love with her,” Devlin said toward Keenas. It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement of fact.
Keenas remained quiet, but Jorel spoke. “Yes, he is. And jealous of you, if I know my brother like I think I do.”
Keenas closed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. “I don’t think I’m going to like having an empath as a brother-in-law,” he growled.
“You’ll get used to it,” Taron said with a grin.
With a shake of his head, Keenas chuckled for the first time since coming in the room.
“Jorel is in love with her also,” he said as he pointed toward his brother.
Jorel raised his hands as if to surrender. “Leave me out of this.”
“Why?” Keenas snorted. “She’s half yours.”
Jorel turned to Devlin with a grin. “You’ve raised a hell of a woman, Devlin. She’s called me every name in the book, some I haven’t even heard spoken before. She broke two of my ribs in an attempt to escape and is delightfully unpredictable. Can’t remember when I’ve had more fun.”
Devlin stared at him in shock, while Taron and the rest of them chuckled. “She broke two of your ribs?” he asked in surprise.
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“Yes,” Jorel said, his grin widening. “And unless I’m mistaken, slapped Keenas twice.” Devlin turned to stare at Keenas, who sat quietly in the chair, his fingers covering his lips as though deep in thought. “Yes. Twice. Would have been three if I hadn’t caught her wrists. She’s fast.”
He couldn’t help it. The whole thing had turned hilarious and Devlin put his head in his hands as his shoulders began to shake in silent laughter.
“You find it funny, Armande? You find it funny that the woman who was supposed to be raised a royal has been raised a hellion?” Keenas snapped.
“A hellion you’re in love with, if I recall,” Devlin said with a chuckle. Sobering, he added. “I raised her to take care of herself, Davole. Veenori is a dangerous place. The language she picked up at the bar. If she was able to put up that much of a fight against the two of you, then I think I’ve done well. I did the best I could with her. Be thankful she didn’t end up with someone who would have sold her as a slave. If that had happened, she’d be dead by now.”
“You’re right,” Keenas conceded with a nod.
Devlin pursed his lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe I heard you. Could you repeat that?”