Page 134 of Fated In Forever
Blake dragged his cock up the seam of my ass, leaving a trail of wetness behind, and instinctively, I tensed up, every muscle tightening as I prepared myself for that initial thrust. Then he spread my cheeks wide andlicked.
My entire body torqued, bucking as Malachi banded a powerful arm across my lower back to hold me in place.Quiet. Let him taste you. He’s been dying for this.
I can’t. I can’t.I wriggled, but between Malachi and Blake, I couldn’t move, couldn’t inch away from that probing, exploring tongue, from the dark, dirty pleasure streaking through me, from the terrible truth that I wanted more.
I wanted them fucking me, unleashed, wild, feral.
I wanted to feel claimed and owned and treasured.
I wanted to forget my name and every heartbreak we’d ever experienced. I wanted to remember every moment we’d ever shared, and I wanted to share a million more. I wanted so much, so deeply, my heart burst apart, and that’s when Blake gripped my shoulder, pressed his lips to my ear, and murmured, “breathe, my love”.
His invasion was relentless, the kind of claiming thrust that reached my very soul, drove the air from my lungs, wasa drink of cold water in a burning desert. And Iwasburning, pinned and taken, filled so full I thought I might burst, and that’s when my mate began to move.
I didn’t know where Riordan was, had lost all sense of space and time and…
Right here. Watching the three of you. You are so fucking beautiful, Silver. I knew from the first time I saw you, you were absolutely perfect.Riordan projected a picture into my head and my body bowed from the force, from the sheer carnal beauty of the three of us together, a fusion of arms and legs and straining flesh, of grunts and moans and murmured names and then I was back inside my own head, clenching around Malachi’s cock, surrendering to the cascading pleasure as I melted around him like butter.
That tight knot of pressure shredded apart, tearing through me in a storm of shattered nerve endings and whimpers and soft cries as Malachi held me tight, pumping up into me as Blake groaned my name, over and over in my ear, his shaking body covering me, hands gripping my hips for dear life as he emptied himself into me.
We collapsed in a ball onto the bed, where I somehow ended up sandwiched between the two of them without being crushed, then Riordan lifted me up, carried me to the bathroom, and slid me into a steaming bath.
Where a bank of candles burned on the windowsill, and I didn’t feel awkward at all.
64
EVANGELINE
Iwoke to unfamiliar brightness streaming through my bedroom windows. The quality of light was different somehow—warmer, more golden than any morning I’d ever seen before. Blinking against the gentle radiance, I sat up in a bed that felt far too big, wrapping soft sheets around me as I tried to pinpoint what had changed.
The night before came flooding back in a rush, and heat rose in my cheeks. Malachi. Blake. Riordan. Our evening together had been more beautiful than I could have imagined, and I felt transformed this morning.
But this light—this wasn't the harsh morning sun I was accustomed to.
Wrapping the sheet tighter, I slipped from bed and padded to the window, my bare feet silent on the cool floor. I pushed the drapes aside and gasped, pressing my nose to the cool glass.
Crimson House had been transformed.
Where once there had been an overgrown, untended garden, a green, sweeping lawn stretched toward what appeared to be a brand-new forest. Two long, magnificent new wings extended from either side of the original structure, their enormous windows reflecting the golden morning light. The architecture was seamless, as if thehouse had always been this way, ivy climbing over the stone in a thick, shiny mat.
But it was the gardens that truly took my breath away. Terraced flower beds cascaded down gentle slopes in riots of color—roses and jasmine, lavender and peonies, flowers I didn't even recognize but glowed with their own inner light. Winding stone paths meandered between the beds, all of them leading to a crystalline lake that hadn't existed yesterday.
The surface was an unbroken sheet of pure light, pink and gold and purple, reflecting the dawn like a perfect, unbroken mirror. Perfect, except for the pair of swans gliding serenely by, their necks elegantly curved.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, pressing my face against the glass.
I threw on some clothes, rushing barefoot downstairs, my heart pounding like it was Christmas morning. When I reached the main floor, I heard Angel's voice, high and breathless with excitement and headed in that direction, my feet flying.
Her head popped through a doorway, cheeks pink with excitement. “Evie, get in here. You have to see what Bex and I found this morning when we woke up.”
I paused in the doorway, speechless, dumbfounded, trying to absorb what I was seeing. Where Riordan had once had his modest office, a magnificent room dominated the center of the house. The ceiling soared two stories high, supported by elegant columns of white marble veined with gold. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined every wall, their mahogany surfaces gleaming in the soft, natural light pouring through domed skylights above.
There were so many books.
Shelf after shelf, each marked with fancy brass signs,and there were rolling ladders, a balcony that divided the shelves in half, the air smelled of fresh paper and new leather, of roses from the garden and something indefinably magical.
But it wasn't just the books, though there were thousands of them, leather-bound volumes that pulsed with knowledge, while others—my sister and Bex had quite a stack in front of them—I suspected were a little light on knowledge and heavy on steam. Reading nooks were scattered throughout the space, each one perfectly appointed with comfortable chairs and soft lighting.
From brass lamps with green shades.
