Page 80 of Slaying With Sylphs

I shoot him a gleeful look. “It’s just so bubbly and round. I mean, look at it!”

Connall turns, pink dusting his cheeks. He’s still only wearing the towel from before. An enormous erection now tents the front of it.

I drop my eyes to stare at it, mouth watering before I’m able to pull my gaze back up. “You should definitely cook naked. There’s no need for a towel. It’s just me and Dirk here.”

His blush grows deeper, spreading down his neck and chest as Dirk leans against the counter with both elbows. Connall reaches down and opens the towel, tossing it onto the counter next to us.

“Much better,” I whisper. Now I’ve got a perfect view of that gorgeous cock and a knot that still seems too big to fit inside me. But it did, and then I came so hard, I nearly passed out.

“Yeh need a blow job,” Dirk says on a growl. “And I would suck yeh off right now if I didn’t have to show up before this fookin’ meeting ends.” He looks at me. “Perhaps Louanna can do something about that.”

“I need to feed you both,” Connall corrects, waving his spatula at Dirk. “Enough sex. We’ve got shit to do.”

“Listen,” Dirk teases, grabbing the spatula from Connall. “I’ve one rule in this relationship, and it’s a sexy one.” He winks at me. “Are yeh ready to hear it?”

Connall leans against the counter and crosses his enormous arms. “Let’s hear it, Sylph.”

“As many times as yeh can get it up, mate, we’ll work tae get it back down.”

I snort and cover my mouth as the corners of Connall’s lips twitch upward.

Dirk reaches into his pocket and withdraws something, taking a step closer to Connall. “In all seriousness, Wolf, I told yeh I had presents, and I do.” He opens his hand to reveal an etched silver cuff. The top is flat but becomes round as itencloses the circle. There’s enough of a gap for someone to fit their wrist through.

My mouth goes dry watching my males together. Connall’s dark lashes flutter against freckled cheeks. “You got me jewelry?”

“Och,” Dirk laughs softly, “’tis the wolfish way, is it not? To gift your intended with jewels until they shine like the moon?”

“It is,” Connall says quietly, holding his wrist out. His hand trembles, and tears fill my eyes. This feels somehow momentous, this gift.

Dirk slips the thin cuff over Connall’s wrist and spins it, flat side up. Connall lifts it to examine the markings, stepping closer to show me.

“Silver is a traditional gift,” he says. “But I’ve never seen a cuff quite like this.”

“I had it custom-made.” Dirk joins us, running his fingers over the surface.

“That takes a long time,” Connall muses, looking over at Dirk.

“Almost two months,” Dirk confirms.

Connall’s green eyes go wide. “That means you ordered it?—”

“The moment we met.” Dirk lifts his chin, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. He reaches out and places a hand on my thigh, squeezing, his fingers shaky as he looks between us.

I can’t look away from either of them.

Connall lurches forward and slams his mouth against Dirk’s. It’s so quick and rough that I gasp, but Dirk just snarls and shoves Connall against the countertop, their kiss ragged and desperate. My body is molten lava watching them. Dirk’s hand never leaves my thigh. I could reach out and touch either of them, or both of them.

Their kiss slows to a tender, thorough exploration, and moments later, they part. Connall pulls me close to them and takes my mouth with the same attention he gave Dirk. His lips are soft and hot. But then Dirk grips the back of my neck and steals me from Connall, slamming his mouth against mine as he bends me backward into our wolf. This kiss is harder, needier, with an almost desperate edge. And he kisses me until I’m breathless.

When we part, Dirk dips to Connall’s neck and places a tender kiss over a spot where his neck and shoulder meet.

Gods, I think he’s about to profess his love. Or maybe I just hope he does. Because watching them fall for one another might be the best thing I’ve ever had the privilege to witness.

After kissing Connall, he turns to me, removing something else from his pocket. He moves and parts my thighs, slipping his big body between them. Opening his hand, he reveals a tiny round orb on a long, thin silver chain. The orb is clear glass, and inside, blue mist swirls like it’s alive.

“Tis a bit of my magic, Louanna,” he shares. “A very traditional air elemental gift. Because you’re mine, it’ll bring yeh peace and joy when I’m not around. Just rub it, and the magic’ll react to yeh, following your fingertip around the orb.”

I fully expect a bit of snark, because that’s how Dirk delivers all news. But none comes.

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