Page 48 of The Surrender

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“What shall we bring you, Tessie?”

QUINTESSA

The second I open my eyes and find two faces jutting their noses an inch from mine, I yelp. But it comes out more like a squeak.

“Savage Waste, Drago! Mayce!” I blow out frazzled breaths and cup my forehead while leaninginto the pillows. “You scared the stuffings out of me.”

I dart my gaze between them, confused as to why Drago lies on one side with Mayce on the other. A thin nightdress is all I wear beneath the blankets, and with them so close, it’s little wonder that my nipples pucker. They can’t disguise their desire for attention thanks to these two hemming me in.

Snorting a chuckle, Drago props his elbow onto the pillow above my head and leans in to kiss my cheek. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we, Mayce?”

My skin tingles from his chafing stubble as the Fae god combs my strands away from my other cheek to purr low in my ear, “Certainly not when it’s the stuff of which dreams are made of.”

Warmth spins into my blood with the heated onslaught of Mayce’s deep-set hazel eyes like molten brown earth kindling a flame straight for my pussy. Oh...my mouth waters at his godly beauty, breathtaking down to the cell matter. Like waterfalls of gold, his silken hair ripples down his chest while the exquisite lines of his face perfectly compliment Drago’s slabbed muscles and smoldering energy.

The only reason I lean closer toward the haven of iron heat, dark red hair, and rakish breaths is due to the soul bond we share. Drago doesn’t give a damn about showing off when he covers my mouth with his. Mayce is too grounded and patient to envy us as the dragon steals my breath and surrounds me with his familiar masculine scent. All smoke, musk, and sweat. More heat riddles through me, kindling moisture along my folds.

Still, I can’t deny how much I love the hints of possessiveness from the Fae. How his desire manifests with a simple squeeze to my ass. Or rubbing himself against my backside where he marked me. The Fae also prints his lips upon one side of my neck as Drago conquers my mouth. It’s a slow conquest. Not what I’m used to from him. It’s still every bit as deep, but something else lingers beneath his normal fire. A caution and care in his fingers where he grips my hips but doesn’t dig. A tenderness in his tasting tongue.

He stops the kiss sooner than I expect and cups one cheek. Flushed and wet from their attention, I lick my swollen lips and lower my eyes to the subtle bloom of scales on the dragon shifter’s chest.

Despite my rumbling and hollow stomach clearly wanting food, I squeeze my shoulders and smile up at him. Sigh when Mayce kisses a trail to my shoulder and palms my rear. “I promised you I’d sit on your cocks after I healed you, didn’t I?” I ask Drago.

“After you eat, Tessie, my love,” he hums against my lips.

“Indeed,” agrees Mayce while sliding a hand around my waist to rub my belly. I turn back, threading my brows low at the sly gleam in his eye and the knowing upturn of his lips. “Your stomach sounds like it carries a little dragon in it.”

Drago chokes on his sudden surge of back-to-back chuckles, and I swing my eyes back to him. Confusion pulses through me.

“What shall we bring you, Tessie? Pancakes again? Honey straight from the comb? Golden berries? If you desire something spicier, I’ll fly with Thayne to the very ends of the Waste itself to Merikh’s underground realm, trespass into his territory, and bring you back a blood fruit right from his reserves.”

“And I would travel the distance across the mountains to my Waste-realm to collect my land’s sweetest saffron pudding,” adds Mayce with his hard cock against my spine, competing for territory with Drago’s that throbs against my thigh.

I almost lurch at their statements. Especially after I had to put on my best pouty face and beg the Kings to bring me some breakfast last time. Now, they volunteer to dote on me. And despite the tantalization of a repeat breakfast, the sky is almost dark. So, I won’t tempt fate.

Smiling at each of them, I shrug. “I’ll be thrilled with whatever Ollie planned to prepare tonight.”

“Ollie?” wonders Mayce.

“Steward Shift, sorry...” I glance down, chewing on my inner cheek, wondering if I’ve made a deep impropriety by giving the Steward a nickname.

Drago chuffs a rumbling laugh. “I can’t wait to tell him.”

Panic leaps in my chest, and I reach for Drago, “No! Please don-”

He kisses my lips, cutting off my fearful words. Now, this kiss is far more like Drago.

After my third helping of fruit compote, adorned in edible gold leaf, and my second helping of resurrection rice, and my fourth helping of halo honey cakes, I snuggle against Drago, suggestively rubbing one bare foot against his leg.

By now, they’ve informed me of the reason behind Kyan and Merikh’s absence—how the two Kings had left shortly after Drago and I passed out. Satisfied with the knowledge that I was simply exhausted from two deep blood bindings in so short a time, they left to root out the source of the roc attack. And ensure no others would invade the village. It puts me at more ease for the villagers, but I can’t escape the worry prickling my nerves.

I’ll feel far more at ease when they return.

“Another cup of fruit wine, Lady Quinny?” Steward Shift’s ember-like voice crackles behind me.

For the third time during the meal, Drago steals the cup and downs it whole before I can snatch it up. At first, I throw him an accusatory look until I remember how they brought the food to me and served me.

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