Embraced By Passion (12 page)

“Shit,” he moaned, his head riding loosely on his spine. Brigit was better than anything he could’ve imagined. Tight, heat, slick, he didn’t know anything that measured to the sensation.

“Is it better?”
Ja’Rol asked him, suckling with deep pulls on her nipples, tweaking them with Slone’s pace.

“No, but it is so different. I love you both.”
Slone’s thoughts turned into winding gasps as he pounded Brigit, his cock slick with her cream.

“It’s only going to get better,”
Ja’Rol said, slipping from where he lay next to her. Grasping Slone’s hips, he bit at the tight ass, leaving little teeth marks in flesh. The pain of the bite drove Slone into Brigit, both shuddering as lightning struck his spine.

“Love that,”
he managed, waiting for Ja’Rol. The bed moved with Ja’Rol’s weight centered behind Slone. He slowed his hips and groaned when the press of lubed fingers tingled against his ass.

Brigit’s mind was a blanket of sexual euphoria when Slone dove a little deeper against her mind to guarantee her comfort. A pleasure he wanted to ensure, because neither he nor Ja’Rol would please her now only to cause her pain later.

Slone let out a breath, relaxing as the thick head of Ja’Rol’s cock seated between his ass cheeks. All he could manage was a hard moan, craving the feeling of his lover. A slow breath seeped through his teeth as Ja’Rol sank into Slone with loving care.

“Oh God! That feels…”
Her moan was long and earthy, shuddering through her frame as Ja’Rol began a slow rhythm, rocking the three of them as one. Slone corralled her tight against his chest, one soft breast filling his palm. Ja’Rol’s thrusts drove Slone deeper into Brigit, feminine gasps of pleasure rising to cries as the momentum carried them all. Ecstasy arced across the three. Her fingers clawed at the bed, pushing her harder into their thrusts.

Brigit’s cries became guttural shouts of passion, her body undulating, dragging against each deep pounded thrust.

“Slone
.” Ja’Rol’s voice was a graveled warning, his climax spiraling, ready to burst free.

“Come with me Brigit. Let me feel your cream,”
Slone purred, clenching down on Ja’Rol’s driving shaft. A harsh hiss of pleasure erupted behind him. Ja’Rol’s hand on Slone’s hip tied them all together, Slone the anchor to them all.

Her body was a firestorm, shooting sparks of passion. The wave of her orgasm rising, rising, daring to crash, but not.

“Imagine us, love, filling you, driving into you.”
Slone gritted his teeth, feeling her body writhe in answer.

Slone’s orgasm sliced his body in half with rapture, his shout filling the bedroom like a male roar. Ja’Rol’s voice echoed his, stiffly thrusting as his own orgasm took him over the peak and into the sea of sensation. As one, both men sought Brigit and were drawn ever tighter by her release.

Her entire body was a strung wire, bucking against the throes of Slone’s orgasm. Hot and wet, her juice slicked his body, coating his cock and dripping like honey over his balls. It felt like it took forever before the bliss-filled tension of all three began to drain away.

Breathing heavily, he drew her close, cuddling his shoulders into Ja’Rol’s embrace.

“Amazing,” Ja’Rol whispered, his panted breath rushing over Slone’s ear. “Never like that.”

Slone silently agreed. Brigit added something to their sex, something unique and as wonderful as she was. Holding her in his arms, all of them replete and languid, they shared a type of heaven he never thought he’d encounter.

They would do whatever it took to win her completely. And considering what they’d already shared with her, and in such a short amount of time, he prayed that their final secret wouldn’t be the one straw that broke the camel’s back.

Chapter Nine

Brigit stood behind her mother’s shoulder.

“Please, face each other,” the preacher said with a gentle smile. Traci turned and when Gene asked for her hands, she slid them into his. Brigit blinked to not let the tears loose, not yet.

The ceremony was sweet, and short. Brigit couldn’t help but feel elated for her mother. Her happiness was a shining light that Brigit knew she’d never had before.

White and pale yellow orchids framed the arch over the couple. The flowers matched the soft yellow gown Traci had chosen for their special moment. The flowers were a gift from Slone and Ja’Rol and Brigit’s mom had loved it, so glad to have the two men there. Final words were spoken and Brigit sighed. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a hinted wistfulness come from Ja’Rol at the same time.

Then, sliding matching gold bands on each other, Gene bent to kiss his new bride.

“Love you,” he whispered just before he kissed her.

That was when Brigit lost it.

Ja’Rol’s arm curved over her shoulders and Slone offered a hankie. Traci’s smile was sparkling when she looked toward her daughter.

“I’m so happy for you, Mom,” she managed, sounding far too weepy.

“I’m glad you’re happy for me,” Traci replied, embracing her into a strong hug.

Gene leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek when Traci let her go. “Glad you could make it, punkin.”

A throat cleared. “All I need now are the signatures,” the preacher stated, smiling warmly. He held the signature book for them, then with a flourish presented the license copy for them.

“I wish you many wonderful years together,” he told them.

“Thank you,” Traci said.

Slone leaned over and mentioned something to the preacher. “Oh, of course! I’d be happy to.”

“Thank you.” Then looking at the group, he said, “Who’s ready to paint the town red?”

“You don’t have any other plans?” Traci asked.

“None, Mom. Tonight, we’re here for you and Daddy Gene.”

“In fact,” Ja’Rol said, guiding them all out of the chapel. “Our ride is waiting.”

Traci gasped. “A carriage!” Two pristine, white with red velvet decorated phaetons stood waiting, drivers at the step in sharp black suits, only waiting for their directions.

“Call it our going away party present,” Slone explained with a devil’s smile for a grin. “We didn’t get to when you left.”

“The move…” she tried to explain, apology apparent in her voice and motions.

Ja’Rol shook his head, not letting her continue. “So now we get to, and for a much better reason. The evening is yours. The hire is paid for as long as you want him.”

Brigit tugged on Slone’s shoulder sleeve when Traci stole a moment to pet and talk to the horse.

“What did you tell the preacher?”

“I asked him to send the flowers to your mother’s room. They’ll be there before she is.”

Looking between the two men, she almost choked on her words, happy tears clogging her throat. “You’ve both made this an exceptional day for my mother. I can’t thank either of you enough.”

“Anything to make you happy, love,” Slone murmured, leaning to deliver a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Who’s hungry?” Ja’Rol asked. Moments later, with Gene and Traci in the front carriage, and Brigit flanked by her two men in the rear, they clip-clopped down the streets of Sin City, their evening just beginning.

With each of them holding one of her hands, Brigit felt absolutely cherished. She couldn’t believe the lengths these two men had gone to ensure her mother’s day went perfectly. The dresses, the flowers, the carriages. Her mother would always remember this, her wedding day to Daddy Gene, because the two men at Brigit’s sides had made it spectacular for them.

Slone had let it slip that he’d spoken with Gene, and Brigit got him to spill the whole idea. After confirming the attention wouldn’t undermine their pleasure, both he and Ja’Rol had taken great enjoyment in doing this for them. Traci had been a greatly respected employee and a good friend to Ja’Rol. They wanted to do this for them. And that generosity had warmed Brigit. She’d never seen her mother happier.

Relaxed, she let her head drift to Slone’s strong shoulder, slipping her hands to rest on male thighs. She felt their desire begin to ignite with the innocent contact and smiled.
“You two. Patience,”
she chided them with a mental groan. She blinked when Slone answered, forgetting that they
could
hear her, if they wanted to.

“You don’t understand, pet. We want, and so long as we breathe, it won’t stop.”

She sat in a stunned silence as streets and lights flowed past them.

Ja’Rol slid her a heated look from her other side, his eyes roving over her like she was a decadent treat. A shiver of excitement coursed up her spine in answer.

She hoped they appreciated the little something she’d bought that afternoon
besides
the dress she was wearing while she was out with her mother. Thankfully, her mother had been in the fitting rooms and hadn’t seen it. It would have been hell trying to explain it.

* * * *

Ja’Rol faced forward, his hand covering hers on his leg. The warmth of her skin beneath his palm created a pulse of wanting. Slone was right. The wanting, the
need
, never went away, a low simmer underneath his skin. It wouldn’t take much to make that need become a roiling inferno for her, for them.

He resisted the urge to tap his leg, nervous and impatient energy beating at him now. “
When are we going to tell her?”
Ja’Rol wasn’t stupid. He knew Slone craved their completion as much as Ja’Rol did, but as of yet, there’d been no mention of filling that final gap in their relationship.

The one that was necessary to keep her, the one that would infuse her with their magic, their souls. And give them a piece of hers to keep and cherish.

“Soon. Today was for her, and for Traci. You saw what it meant to them both.”

Ja’Rol wasn’t denying that. But a nugget of fear had insidiously dug into him when she’d been gone for hours with her mother that afternoon.

“I’m buying her a cell phone,”
Ja’Rol informed Slone.

“Patience, lover. In that, she is right. She is still coming to terms with what we are offering. Don’t you feel her when she has doubts?”

Ja’Rol looked to Slone, then away. “
Of course I do. She has many doubts, and they are groundless.”

“Were they groundless when you met me?”
Slone prodded gently.

Ja’Rol swiveled back to meet Slone’s unique gaze. “
When I… Because you are male?”

Slone nodded. “
I’m more than a century older than you. I have seen a thing or two, and I knew you weren’t expecting this to happen between us.”

Ja’Rol caught the hiss of his exasperation behind his teeth. No, he hadn’t been expecting to bond with a male. He was the last child of his parents and though they had seen him to maturity, they passed when he was young, at least young in wyvern terms.

“In truth, I never expected to mate with Inara, or love her the way I did, but she taught me you can’t fight fate, and this love, is beyond our control.”

Ja’Rol offered his open compassion.
“You don’t talk about her very much.”