Page 222 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

My shoulders slumped with relief.

We were together.

I was supporting my Revered. I was touching my Ignis.

As a Protector, this was the closest I’d ever get to perfection.

An ache burned my chest, and an intense longing—to possess what I couldn’t have—almost brought me to my knees.

Orion whimpered.

We rarely touched one another for this very reason. It was too perfect. It was nothing but a reminder of the ecstasy we couldn’t have.

A cruel joke.

My cock swelled beneath Orion until it was harder than it had ever been. I swallowed thickly and couldn’t stop myself from grinding against his perfect, firm ass.

We were tiptoeing across a line we swore we’d never cross.

Despair awaited us on the other side.

Orion moved his hips to the music, and I pressed my groin harder. We swayed together.

He was so warm.

So right against me.

From the fact that he didn’t move away, we’d arrived at the same conclusion: we needed this.

I clutched the most precious man in all the realms. As I breathed in deeply, his rich, sweet scent filled my senses.

Fuck.

Orion was perfect.

No Revered had ever been so intoxicating: formidable, affectionate, tenacious.

Corvus’s arms snaked between us, so he was wrapped around Orion with his head resting on his washboard abs.

The three of us clung to one another.

Hours passed.

The party raged.

It was the same as it had been when we were teens; all we had was one another. It was enough. It would always be enough.

Wrapped up in the pleasure of holding my mates, I almost didn’t hear it.

It took my brain a second to put the sounds together.

“Corvus, your captain’s services are needed to handle Aran,” Luka said, and the hair on my arms prickled.

I pulled away, and both my mates groaned.

Straightening my sweatshirt, I explained, “Luka said Arabella needs us.”

Before I’d finished speaking, Corvus was out of his chair, with flames trailing off his arms. Both my mates were shoving through the crowd, telling people to move.

---