Page 10 of Betrayed By Dragons

Jianyu lowers his lips to mine. In his kiss, I taste his hope, but his fears and worries permeate our bond. I want to be reassured, but how can I be?

"Here's hoping," I allow.

He kisses me again. I open to him more fully, and he presses forward with his tongue. He puts a hand to my waist and slides it lower toward my hip. Arching, I push into him, allowing our physical connection to take over. Its intensity flares, but it can't eclipse all the problems facing us.

Sensing that the time for talking is over, Rafe molds himself to my spine, grinding against my ass and mouthing at the shell of my ear. Inside, I tremble, hungry for them both.

As Rafe tugs at the hem of my shirt, I give in to the heat of his touch.

And I remind myself that it'll all be okay.

That the three of us together may face challenges. But it's worth it.

What we have...

It's enough.

Chapter Four

JIANYU

I wake up the next morning to the sound of my alarm. Groaning, I roll over and hit the button to silence the quiet chirping. I'm a morning person through and through--unlike my bed partners. It's a good thing, too, because today, the Crown Prince of the Stone Kingdom's responsibilities begin at dawn.

Exhaling hard, I scrub a hand over my eyes. I glance to the side. Blackout shades cover the windows in our bedroom, but there's just enough light leaking in that I can make out Ember and Rafe. The alarm doesn't seem to have bothered either of them, and I'm glad.

Really. I am.

There's still a heaviness in my heart as I take in the way Ember is curled into Rafe's chest. I know full well that I'm fit, but Rafe's bulky physique is hard to compete against.

Ember is tied to us both. She loves us both. Last night, she gave us equal, generous, delicious attention. Her scent is a mix of mine and Rafe's, our combined claim written all over her body. I have nothing to be jealous about.

My chest constricts painfully, and I swallow down the possessiveness threatening to rise in my throat. She's everything I ever wanted in my life, and she's mine. The gods themselves thrust her into my hands.

So why do I feel as if she's slipping through my fingertips?

Letting out a low grunt of frustration with my own moody, petty navel-gazing, I force myself to throw the covers off and get up. I don't look back at my mate nestled into another man's arms. I don't watch the matching rise and fall of their breath.

Instead, I pad naked across the room and lock myself in the en suite. I scowl at my erection. It doesn't matter that I made love to Ember twice last night. Waking up beside her will never leave me unaffected. For a second, I'm tempted to take myself in hand and try to lose myself in memories of how warm and soft she was as she draped herself over me and sunk onto my cock, still wet from Rafe's come and my mouth.

Growling, I drop my hand to my side. I lean over into the shower and turn on the spray at max volume. I get in before the water can heat up, letting the icy sting seep into my skin.

It takes care of my arousal, at least.

From there, I clean up with brisk efficiency. I hate that I'm washing my mate's scent from my body, but I can't carry out my royal duties in a state of distraction. Once I'm done, I gather my clothes from where I set them out the night before. I pull them on, then inspect myself in the mirror.

The formal dress uniform of the Stone Kingdom fits me like a glove. My neat, regal appearance has always been a source of pride, but today the collar itches. The stiff, silver-white fabric is a straitjacket around my chest.

I breathe into the discomfort.

I have a job to do.

Exiting the bathroom, I slip back out through the bedroom. My eyes aren't adjusted to the darkness, but I can feel Ember's slow, steady heartbeats. I try not to imagine how she’ll wake up in Rafe’s arms this morning. They’ve said they don’t indulge their carnal desires when I’m not around—or at least that they haven’t yet. But eventually, with me so distracted by my duties, they’re bound to give in to them.

I try not to think about the date they made for this afternoon.

I clench my hands into fists so tight they hurt.

I should be the one training her in self-defense. Rafe knows how to throw a punch, I'm sure, but there isn't a disciplined bone in his body. I've studied a dozen different forms of martial arts.

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