Page 105 of Witches Be Damned

“Okay.” Tor leaned in a kissed me slowly, melting me. “But tomorrow I’m rich sugar daddy.”

I snorted again and grabbed the sunblock.

I loved my future husband and was beyond excited for us to get married, but we agreed to put it off for at least a year, content with enjoying our freedom and getting ourselves settled into our new lives.

I kind of hoped the time would encourage Knoxe and Pascal to come around to the idea. Knoxe wasn’t in a hurry, and Pascal needed time to adjust to his new settings and routine. As for Raze, we were already married in his eyes, and didn’t need a ring to prove it when I carried his mating bite.

“No, you don’t.” Tor confiscated it. “I’ll do that.”

He squirted dots on my shoulders and back, rubbing them in, throwing in a massage at the same time. I loved having a physiotherapist for a boyfriend to crack my back or neck kinks and release my tight muscles.

“Mmm,” I moaned, tilting my head to the side.

Knoxe dropped to the towel beside me. “Well, if Tor gets to be rich sugar daddy then I want to be a hot mafia don.”

Someone enjoyed our role play of capo and pregnant girlfriend more than he cared to admit. He played along at least once a week, and I loved the change in my fierce man.

“That suits you.” I leaned over to fire kisses on his mouth.

I removed my engagement ring, storing it in my straw beach bag, and got busy covering him with lotion, taking extra time on his pecs and biceps when they were two of my favorite parts of him below the neck. Above the neck, I loved his sexy scar, fierce eyes, and brutal mouth.

“And I want to be a dark, mysterious werewolf biker,” Raze pitched in, landing behind Tor, lathering him in sunscreen.

Oh, Raze had that vibe down pat.

“Hot,” I complimented him, and the pleasant vibration of his chest picked up speed and volume.

Pascal nestled in front of Knoxe for his turn. “Then I’m Hot Misunderstood Rockstar.”

We all cheered at that one as it suited him the most.

I loved that they all picked romance tropes for me. Tor immediately got onboard with my novel fetish and played along. Pascal appreciated the storytelling and character development because of his nerdy passion for comics. It took a lot of convincing for Knoxe and Raze to mildly accept my fantasies, but eventually, they came around, and now I was the warrior Fae princess central to our Friday night romps.

Our sunblock application turned a little steamy and thank fuck we picked a remote location to vacation, because we indulged in a quick Guardian’s sandwich frolic on the sand before sinking into the water for a swim.

Raze and Knoxe were the first to brave the water, hitting me with thirst traps of their glistening, slick, hard bodies, drawing me into the water for a skinny dip and some more fun.

Once we finished, we lounged on our beach chairs or reclined on our towels. Knoxe and Raze discussed plans to build more cabins at the sanctuary for Liv and Dash. Pascal jotted down new music in a notebook inspired by our getaway. I lay on my belly, my legs crossed, reading my latest Sugar Daddy novel, which Tor got me as a surprise. Hence his recent obsession with them. Rolled on his front like me, my witty Superguy indulged in the latest Captain Victorious comic.

In that moment, the meaning behind the comic character’s name signified my victory in not only winning the hearts of my four bad boys and forming my own my harem, but in achieving everything I set out to accomplish at the start of my Guild career. Landing my dream job with conditions I got to set.

“Thirsty, Songbird?” Pascal took a break from his composing to lift my drink for me.

“Please.” I took the straw in my mouth and sipped.

He returned my bottle after I was done with it, and brushed my arm while I read, humming to me, putting me into a deep state of relaxation.

Tor fed me grapes, rock melon, and watermelon. Raze scrubbed my legs with sand to exfoliate them and relish his connection to the Earth. Knoxe leaned on his side, his towel at the head of mine, Tor’s, and Pascal’s. His gentle fingers traced my jaw, chin, neck, shoulders, hair, everywhere he could lying in that position.

All my men spoiled me this vacation, and I never wanted it to end. I didn’t need to be a real princess like Luna when my men treated me like one.

In fact, they hadn’t stopped doting on me since our release, spoiling me with romantic gifts, chocolate, flowers, candy, teddy bears, making up for lost time. They drove me down to Sydney for a day stay, the first consisting of shopping for a new wardrobe and makeup, since I went without it for the better part of a year and a half. On our second day, we hunted for furniture to liven up our home—Knoxe’s idea, since I loved color.

And speaking of color, Knoxe bought me a gift voucher to get to a spa, and I booked in to get a full-body massage, my hair recolored, and a manicure. Boy, did I enjoy sinking into the salon chair to get my hair shampooed and scalp massaged. I came out floating and feeling like a million bucks when I had do it on the cheap within the prison.

My men didn’t go without some special gifts from me. I got Tor a custom bookcase for his comics, Knoxe new tools to finish restoring the car he’d been working on for two years, Raze a new hiking backpack, and Pascal new editing software to format the songs he composed.

It turned into a bit of a post-prison lovefest with my men getting each other things to make our home feel more like ours. The open-plan space was large enough for us to convert some of it for specific purposes, modeling new walls for new rooms. The first we fashioned into a recording studio for Pascal, complete with soundproofing, which he didn’t expect and cried happy tears. Then they built a gym for Knoxe and fitted it with everything he needed to work out. Next came the nerd reading corner for me, Tor, and Pascal, freeing Knoxe and Raze of headaches from listening to us rave about theories for our favorite comic heroes.

---