Chapter 5
“Remove the sweatpants so I can see and heal your injured knee,” Rhys instructed.
Cristina was in a completely dazed state after being flown back to the roof of Pendragon castle in Rhys’s dragon arms, this time at a nod of consent from the amethyst dragon. The flight had been surprisingly smooth, the landing graceful for two such huge beasts. They had then seemed to shimmer before materializing as the fully clothed and muscular Rhys and Aeran Pendragon.
Cristina was still too stunned, in fact, to resist now when Rhys took a firm grasp of the top of the sweatpants and pulled them down her thighs himself before sitting on the couch and tugging her forward. “What are you doing?” she gasped as she felt the rasp of his tongue against the flesh of her knee.
He sat back seconds later. “Healing you.”
Cristina glanced down to where her knee had been scratched and sore a few seconds ago. It no longer hurt, and the flesh was completely healed. “How did you do that?” she gasped.
He shrugged. “A healing ingredient in our saliva.”
“That’s incredible!”
“Would you like to see what other magic we can do with our tongues?” Aeran teased with a suggestive lick of his lips.
Color burned her cheeks. “Not just now, thank you.”
“So polite now,” Rhys drawled before sobering. “I can still smell blood.”
Cristina’s cheeks grew even hotter. “Well, it’s not for the reason you might think.”
Aeran shook his head. “Menstrual blood has a different scent than that of an injury. You are not ovulating right now.”
Cristina briefly squeezed her eyes closed. “I really didn’t need to know that.” Her eyes opened wide. “You can tell whether or not I’m ovulating?”
Aeran nodded. “Once you have been fully claimed, your ovulation will begin.”
“For now, you will tell us where you are still injured, mate,” Rhys demanded. “You will tell us now.”
“Bossy much?”
“Bossy a lot,” he confirmed unrepentantly.
She stared at them both defiantly. “I didn’t have any shoes to wear when I left, so—so I cut my feet going down the mountain, okay?”
“No, it is not okay.” Rhys pulled her forward until she stumbled and ended up sitting on his knee. “I will allow you the privilege this time,” he invited his brother. “She tastes delicious.”
Cristina didn’t know whether to giggle from the rough feel of Aeran’s tongue delicately licking the cut flesh on the soles of her feet, or groan at the sensual pleasure of having every inch of that flesh tended to so intimately.
Rhys stood her back on her feet—her completely healed feet—when Aeran had finished his ministration. “Leave them,” he rasped when she would have pulled the sweats back up. “Pull the T-shirt up to your waist and place yourself over my knee.” He looked up at her expectantly from where he had made himself more comfortable on the couch.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped, grateful the T-shirt was long enough to cover her down to mid-thigh even with the sweats still pulled down.
“Would you prefer I was the first one to spank you?” Aeran prompted lightly from where he was now seated in one of the huge armchairs.
The first one?
Cristina glared at both of them. “I would prefer that you both go to hell!”
Aeran grinned at this brother. “Feisty.”
“A little warrior,” Rhys drawled appreciatively.
Aeran eyed his brother curiously, knowing that for Rhys to call Cristina a warrior that his brother’s emotions, like his own, were already very much invested with their mate.
Even so, if Aeran had seen even the slightest trace of fear in Cristina’s rebellious expression, then he might have persuaded Rhys to back down in punishing her. Might have. Because having their mate deliberately do anything to put herself in danger was unacceptable, to both him and Rhys.
“The people who ransacked Fescaru’s apartment are still out there,” he reminded her.
“And, whether you realize it or not, they’re going to come looking for you,” Rhys added grimly.
She visibly tensed. “Why are they?”
“Because people like the Romanian Mafia don’t like loose ends,” Aeran explained.
She blinked. “I’m a loose end?”
“You were Fescaru’s mistress,” Rhys added hardly.
Her eyes widened. “But I don’t know anything. My— Cezar never discussed any of his business with me.”
Rhys’s eyes narrowed at this reminder the other man had probably been too busy fucking his young mistress to have energy left over for talking. “The new head of the Romanian Mafia doesn’t know that.”
The length of Cristina’s creamy soft throat moved as she swallowed. “They’ve chosen him already?”
Aeran nodded. “The ransacking of Fescaru’s apartment would seem to imply that’s the case, yes.”
Rhys patted his thighs in invitation. “Over you go, princess.”
Cristina consider “princess” to be a slight improvement on “little girl,” but not much of one. She had preferred “little warrior.” “There is no way I’m going to willingly drape myself over your thighs and let you spank me.”
He shrugged. “I have no problem with unwillingly. You?” he prompted his brother lightly.
“None at all,” Aeran drawled.
“I have a problem with it,” Cristina insisted. This being outnumbered two to one could get very old very quickly.
Rhys’s pale eyes narrowed on her. “We weren’t asking permission. Now place yourself over my thighs, or I’ll do it for you,” he added in a hard voice.
“No—” Cristina had barely had a chance to pull up the sweats and turn on her heel, with the intention of running, when a steely arm was place about her waist, knocking all the air from her lungs as she was brought to a sudden stop. “Put me down, you—you big gorilla!” She struggled against that steel band about her waist as her feet left the floor and she was carried across the room.
“Gorilla?” Rhys echoed mildly as he once again made himself comfortable on the couch, Cristina still held securely in his arms. “I think you deserve an extra five spanks for having just insulted us and our dragons.” He swung her over easily so that she was lying facedown across his thighs, his arm now placed firmly across her back as he pulled the back of the sweats back down to expose her bare bottom.
“At least five,” Aeran agreed, sitting forward in his chair.
Cristina turned to glare at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassed color, both at being placed in such a humiliating position and being so intimately exposed. “Sure you have a good enough view?”
He shrugged without apology. “I can always move if I don’t.”
“You— Oh bloody hell!” Cristina cried out as a huge hand landed painfully across her exposed bottom cheeks. “That hurt, damn it!”
“No point in doing it if it doesn’t hurt.” Rhys landed another painful smack. “You’ll never learn to listen to the two of us if you don’t feel and remember our displeasure. One day, your life might depend upon you doing exactly that.”
“You’ll pay for this,” Cristina bit out between gritted teeth. “Both of you.” She glared at the seemingly entranced Aeran as he stared unashamedly at the flesh his brother had just spanked.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Rhys taunted as he began to spank her in earnest.
Quite when those blows ceased being painful and became pleasurable instead, Cristina wasn’t sure. Only that they had. Her bottom stung from those blows, yes, but between her thighs was hot and aching, and very, very wet. Her breasts felt swollen, the nipples engorged and pressing against the T-shirt as she balanced inelegantly over Rhys’s thighs.
Cristina squeezed her eyes tightly shut in an effort not to cry out and beg for more friction on those sensitive buds than the occasional brush of the cotton T-shirt gave her. Just as she longed for an easing of the pressure between her slick thighs, her clit swollen and throbbing. Just the brush of Rhys’s fingers against that turgid flesh would be enough to tip her over the edge into climax. But the only way that was going to happen was if she asked for it and—
Her lids flew open as she first felt the brush of cold air on her overheated breasts before one of her nipples was sucked into a moist and satisfying heat.
Aeran looked up at her from where he lay on the floor beneath Rhys’s legs, one of his hands curved about her dangling breast, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked hard and long on her nipple while the fingers of his other hand tweaked and pulled on its twin.
Cristina had barely gotten over the shock of that arousal before she felt Rhys’s long fingers stroking through the wet and swollen folds between her thighs. This dual assault on her senses by two different men was… “Oh, please.” She tried to position herself so those long fingers between her thighs touched her aching and throbbing clit. “Please!” She no longer cared if it sounded as if she was begging—because she was!
Rhys gave her bottom another hard smack before returning to stroke his wet fingers along the seam of her pussy, over the perineum and all the way back to the crease of her bottom. He lingered there to stroke the sensitive nerve endings around that tiny rosette before reversing those caresses. His fingers were nice and wet again from her cream by the time they stroked lightly around but not quite touching her clit.
Cristina’s jaw tightened as she turned her head to glare at him. “You’re a bloody sadist!” she accused heatedly.
He grinned unrepentantly. “Nice things only happen to little girls who listen and do as they’re told.”
“I hate you! Both of you!” she added vehemently as Aeran drew her attention back to where he was sucking harder on her nipple, having taken all of the areole into his mouth now as his fingers and thumb pulled and elongated the other nipple just short of pain.
It was… She was…
She screamed as Rhys’s fingers finally touched her clit, pressing, stroking that erect nubbin. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded as the climax swelled inside her. “Please don’t stop!” She cried out as that pleasure broke in a maelstrom of sensations, causing Cristina’s body to quiver and shake for several long and ecstatic minutes as the climax washed over and through her.
But even the most earthshattering climax of her life had to come to an end sometime, and along with it came the realization she had just allowed two men, not just one, to make love to her.
Two men who could shift into dragons.
“Wow, the two of us making love to Cristina at the same time was so much more enjoyable than I could ever have imagined,” Aeran murmured in appreciation.
“I’m not sure our mate would agree with you.” Rhys glanced across at the closed and locked bathroom door, where Cristina had once again fled the moment Rhys allowed her to get up from her position across his knees. Not that she would be escaping through the bathroom window a second time; Rhys had locked it earlier, removed the key, and safely stowed it away in his jeans pocket.
Aeran chuckled, still sitting on the carpeted floor with his back against the couch. “Cristina is just embarrassed because she enjoyed it as much as we did.”
Rhys nodded. “The positions we can have her in, and the pleasure we can give her together, are limitless.”
Aeran had so many images of those positions inside his head, he knew they weren’t all originating from him. He could already feel the tendrils of the mating bond between the three of them. Not in a sexual way with Rhys, of course, but the two of them had communicated telepathically as they worked together to give Cristina the ultimate in pleasure. As they were doing now, thinking, imagining, the pleasure they could both give their mate while she was pleasuring both of them with her mouth, pussy, and that delicious rosette between her bottom cheeks.
As for their bond with Cristina…
Even now, Aeran could sense that her distress was caused more by embarrassment and a little shock at what she had just allowed to happen rather than any feelings of revulsion toward having both men make love to her at the same time. He was sure Rhys was just as aware of their mate’s emotions.
“I could get used to this.”
“Me too.” Rhys leaned back against the couch, more relaxed than Aeran had seen him in years. “She has the most deliciously soft arse.”
Aeran nodded. “And responsive nipples.”
“We’re two lucky dragons.”
“I’m going to enjoy spanking her next time,” Aeran stated with satisfaction.
Rhys chuckled. “She hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”
“She will,” Aeran stated with certainty. “Once we complete the mating and Cristina can feel how much we both love her through the claiming bond, the happier she’ll be.”
Love.
It was a given between mates. As natural as breathing. And yet Aeran knew their feelings for Cristina went much deeper than just the bond. She had shown spirit and bravery when she pointed that gun at both of them in Fescaru’s apartment. Shown her continued defiance earlier when she left the castle.
Qualities Rhys had shown he approved of when he called her “little warrior.” For a hardened fighter like Rhys, it was the ultimate compliment.
Add Cristina’s beauty to that fighting spirit, her flawless skin and delectably responsive body, and she was more and everything a dragon could ever wish for in his mate. Aeran knew through their bond that Rhys felt the same way about her.
Mate or not, they would have both wanted her.
Happiness swelled in Aeran’s chest at the years of happiness he envisaged them all having together.
Cristina, because she would be loved unconditionally by both of them.
Rhys, because he was no longer in danger of becoming feral and having to be destroyed. Aeran could already feel that anger and savagery draining out of his brother. Rhys was always going to be arrogant and forceful—it was a part of his nature—but the boiling fury that had churned inside him for so many years, centuries, was fading and being replaced with humor and tolerance. And so quickly, their brothers would no doubt have a field day with Rhys’s new relaxed and laid-back appearance and attitude after making love to their mate only once.
As for Aeran… It was already difficult to imagine his life force had ever been anything but joined to Cristina’s and Rhys’s. The two of them were now his life. The three of them were now joined, like a never-ending triangle, with no beginning and no end, irrevocably and for eternity.