Page 38 of Reign of Four

With a groan, Ezra holds my head down, burying himself in the back of my throat as he comes again. Tears fill my eyes as I swallow him down, needing air, but unwilling to let him go. He pulls his cock out slowly on an exhale, leaning over me to press a kiss to my forehead. “You are best medicine,” he rumbles, nosing my temple. “Beautiful fox.”

I hold Ezra’s hand tight, then reach out with my other one for Mikhail. He grabs it fast and holds on tight, still thrusting his hips in a gentle glide, as unwilling to let me go as I am with him.

“I love you.” I squeeze both of their hands, looking between the two of them, then at Andrei. They came for me. Not just here, in this sex-filled room, but they came to save me. “You could have left me behind, but you didn’t.” I bite my bottom lip hard as emotion threatens to spill over. Damn it. A queen shouldn’t cry. I shouldn’t get all weepy about this.

But I’m touched. They risked their lives to pull me out of that hell. “Thank you.”

Andrei kisses my calf before lowering it back down to the floor. “Zhena, darling, we would follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant bringing you back.”

“To heaven or hell,” Ezra murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “We would break through gates for you.”

Mikhail rubs his palms down my thighs as he eases my legs to the ground. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows that shouldn’t be there after coming so hard inside me. “Don’t you get it yet?” He crawls over my body until we’re eye to eye with each other. I bite my bottom lip until he sweeps in and steals a kiss, melting against my lips. There’s a soft edge to the kiss that’s new for us, filling my heart with warmth. My name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper. “Valentina. My love. My treasure.”

“Moya zhena.”

“Lisichka.”

I open my eyes to find them all staring at me with the same tenderness that I feel, reflecting it right back at me. Mikhail cups my cheek and smiles so fucking beautifully that I can’t breathe.

“I’m in love with you, malyshka, so fucking in love with you.” He kisses me deep, forgetting how to be gentle as he pulls me under his spell and wraps me in his arms, slipping back inside my molten core just as easily as he’s slipped inside my heart.

We fall into a rhythm, all three of us nowhere near finished now that we’re back together, consumed by each other, lost to the world, needing only ourselves to survive.

This is home. It’s always been home.

Chapter 13

Valentina

I awake to the lingering scent of sex and cigarette smoke hanging in the air, a tail of the latter curling over my head. I tug my right arm free from whoever’s clutching it to their chest—Mikhail, it turns out—and slide my left leg free from between Andrei’s thighs. Both are sound asleep and lightly snoring against the patter of rain pelting the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The instant we moved to the master suite and landed on the bed, Mikhail passed out. Right behind him was Andrei, managing to land with his head on a pillow, at least, which left Ezra and me to find room for ourselves somewhere in between. I slipped unconscious within minutes, the soothing drag of Ezra’s fingers through my hair lulling me into a deep sleep.

I reach for him around the tangle of body parts and bedsheets, squinting in the dark when I don’t feel him. “Ezra?” My heartbeat jumps as I check the floor for his body, but thankfully, the hardwood’s empty. He didn’t fall out of bed, meaning he’s lingering nearby.

When lightning flashes, I follow the trail of smoke until I catch a faint, orange glow beside the bay window. Ezra takes a drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs. I’m not sure he realizes I’m awake until he speaks.

“You should be sleeping.” He exhales slowly, blowing smoke in my direction. “Close eyes, lisichka. I am not far.”

I tug a throw blanket free from beneath Mikhail’s thigh. Draping it over my shoulders, I scoot to the edge of the bed and quickly cross the room to Ezra. “You must be freezing over here.” The hardwood is damn near frozen beneath the soles of my feet, making me shiver as a draft breezes up my bare legs. “Come back to bed with me.”

He hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me into his lap. “I am not tired.” The loveseat is made for two average-sized people, not a mountain and his lover. Between his muscled thighs and my thick ones, we easily fill the entire seat. I loop my arms around his neck and drape the blanket over both of us, cocooning us in whatever warmth’s left. It’s not much, but it’s enough that Ezra makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

“Why can’t you sleep? Are you in pain?” The question feels stupid after everything we’ve been through tonight, but it still feels important to ask. There could be any number of things running through his head, and I want to know which knot I need to pull loose to get him back to bed, asleep, instead of staring at the ceiling all night.

He runs his fingers idly through my curls, separating tangles and splitting ringlets until his hand combs through smooth. Smoke billows around us as he breathes deep and exhales slowly. “I am . . .” A crack of thunder fills the room, the bright white strike of lightning flashing in his eyes. “On medication. It makes sleep difficult to find.”

I didn’t know he’d been prescribed anything, but then again, it’s never come up before and I hadn’t thought to ask. “Is insomnia a side effect, then? Have you tried melatonin? What does your doctor say?”

He snorts around the cigarette pinched between his teeth. “Not that type medicine. This is only for emergency.” He sighs, resting his head on the glass pane behind him. Another crack of thunder sounds before he continues. “I do not sleep, Valentina.” He exhales slowly as he continues playing with my hair. “Sleep makes you target. It makes you sloppy. You cannot die if you are not tired, not off guard.” Ashes fall from the tip of his cigarette, burning out before they touch our blanket. “So, I take the pills. I do not sleep. I keep watch so that my pakhan and zhena can sleep. They do not worry, because I am here. I am awake, so they are not.”

The weight of his words steals the breath from my lungs. “How long have you been awake, Ezra?”

He loops his fingers around what few curls have survived his touch. “Few days.”

My eyes narrow as he continues avoiding the question. “How many?”

With a noncommittal shrug, he taps his cigarette to the side and drops ashes on the hardwood. “A few.”

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