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A Very Merry Bound Christmas

Warning: Explicit sexual content. Recommended for readers 18+. It’s several years in the future for Callie and her men, and all the battles of their young lives have been fought. Now they get to enjoy their happily ever after in marital bliss. After a particularly busy Yule, Callie is gifted a wonderful tropical Christmas on a private island with just her and her husbands surrounded by white sands, clear blue water, and sunny skies. Based on the characters from The Bound Spirit Series, readers get a peek into a potential future after the series ends.


Chapter 1

It’s the night before Christmas Eve, and standing in front of my bedroom door, I kiss my husbands goodnight—an evening ritual for my men who won’t be sharing my bed this night. Felix is sweet, giving me a warm kiss with a whispered, “I love you,” in my ear. Donovan lifts me off the ground and places a harsh stamp on my lips, finishing with a cocky grin that promises fun on his night. Nolan is slow and sensual, devouring my mouth while his hands squeeze my ass.

“Goodnight, my love,” he murmurs against my lips, leaving me hot and tingly as he swaggers his way down the hall, following Donovan into one of the guest bedrooms. It’s long been understood that he hates sleeping alone, so when he isn’t with me, Nolan usually spends the night with Donovan. Some wounds never fully heal.

Connor always chooses to be last when it isn’t his night, needing a quiet moment between us before he turns in. He waits, his head cocked to one side, and listens. Once he’s sure the rest of the guys are safely tucked away in their respective rooms, he gathers me into his arms.

Dulces sueños, mi reina,” he whispers against the top of my head. He then bends to kiss my forehead, each cheek, and the tip of my nose before finishing with a deep, lingering kiss full of love.

“Goodnight, mi lobo,” I say quietly as he pulls away.

He answers with a wistful curve of his lips then heads to the other side of the house, needing more space than the others. None of them are angry or jealous of the love we all share, but two are a bit more possessive than the others—Connor and the husband I’m sharing my bed with tonight.

Entering my designated room, I find Kaleb waiting for me among the flickering glow of candles and pale moonlight that pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The contrasting lights illuminating his dark sepia skin flatter the beautiful, sculpted contours of his face and body. Dressed in thin white linen, his shirt molds to his broad shoulders and heavily muscled frame, while the matching pants hang low on his hips. He has a way of filling a room, of pulling me into this space that seems to suspend time and make the world outside these walls disappear.

Feeling guilty that I feel guilty for going on this trip to the Campbell’s private tropical island—my men’s Yule gift to me this year—my eyes skitter around the room, taking in the master suite. The view outside is nothing but miles and miles of dark blue ocean, while the bedroom itself is minimalist. Two black side tables bracket a king-sized bed, which is covered in a soft white comforter, high thread count sheets, and fluffy pillows. There’s a sitting room, large closets, and a giant bathroom through doors off to the side, but it’s clear the intent of this room is to feel as if little separates the occupants from the sea.

With a knowing look in his dark umber eyes, Kaleb extends a hand, beckoning me to him. It reminds me of when we were teenagers and how my heart would flutter when he would always make it my decision, an offer that was my choice to accept. That hasn’t changed, even though we’re now much older, married, and the stakes and rewards are much higher than those days of indecision to hold hands. Heat flushes my skin, which I promptly blame on the lack of air conditioning, as I walk into his comforting embrace.

He runs a thumb lightly across my furrowed brow before cupping my face and encouraging me to lean against his chest. The calluses on his palms from years of sword fighting are both soft and rough around the edges against my cheek.

Taking a deep breath, I inhale his scent, enjoying the hints of sandalwood from his cologne, and I use the slow, even beats of his heart to center me.

“Tired, columba mea?” Kaleb asks, his deep voice rumbling against my ear.

Tipping my head back to look up at him, I give Kaleb a sweet smile. “Not too tired for tonight.” After a pause, the smile fades, and I quietly admit, “It’s so beautiful here, but I still feel bad about the six of us taking off for Christmas. It’s supposed to be a family holiday.”

One of his dark brows arches in a slightly chiding manner. “Callie, I believe a woman and her five spouses count as a family.”

“You know what I mean.” I pout, pursing my lips.

Kaleb presses a light kiss to my forehead before releasing a deep sigh. “We had an entire week celebrating Yule with family, friends, and people throwing obligatory parties trying to garner your favor,” he grumbles. “I swear, it felt like by the time it was all over, we’d celebrated with every supernatural on earth.”

I laugh and give him a tight squeeze. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Which is why there’s nothing wrong with our little family taking this time for just us.”

“Considering I’m married to five men, I doubt our family will stay little for long.” I chuckle while running my hands beneath the back of his shirt, enjoying the sensation of his hard muscles underneath my fingertips. Gotta take advantage of groping him now while my hands are still free.

He leans back to see my face, and there’s an indulgent smirk playing across his mouth as he murmurs, “I look forward to when our family grows, but tonight is about the two of us. Are you ready?”

Excitement dances in my belly, and I nod in response. Lovemaking with Kaleb is a long, languid affair that follows the pace he sets, his desire for control and thoroughness seeping into our nights together. It’s an exquisite torture I’ve grown addicted to.

One large hand cups the back of my head, while the other tips my face up to him, and then Kaleb leans down and kisses me. My eyes flutter closed as it starts as a slow, light brush of lips. His nose rubs against mine. His warm breath feathers over my mouth. Armed with infinite patience and years of practice, he manages to make the mere promise of his touch electrifying.

After a few passes, he runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I gladly open in invitation. Frustratingly, he busies himself with my bottom lip, gently sucking it into his mouth while his fingers make slow sweeps along my spine. Shivers follow in the wake of his touch, and it makes me hungry to taste the sweetness of his mouth—among other things.

When I attempt to deepen the kiss, he pulls away with a humored tsk. “You know the rules,” he warns, speaking against my ear with the sexy weight of his deep baritone. His tone is teasing but firm, and the juxtaposition makes my knees weak. “I promise to give you only pleasure, and you…”

“Take what is given,” I finish on a shuddered breath, desire blooming within me. I’m pretty sure this man can whisper me into an orgasm, but I’ve always been too impatient to find out.

“Good, columba mea,” he praises, but sadly, he extracts himself from my embrace, his attention shifting to take me in as a whole. I feel his gaze slowly sweep down my body that’s currently encased in wrinkled jeans and a travel worn blouse. “Keep your arms at your sides.”

The air in the room feels heavy, and the space between us is filled with anticipation as my hands drift down from his body.

It’s not long until Kaleb leisurely unbuttons my blouse, each inch of my exposed skin burning under his regard. Pushing the fabric off my shoulders, he bestows a deep, all-consuming kiss that leaves me moaning. He tastes sweet with a hint of peppermint, and I greedily indulge in the offering of his kiss. As his tongue explores the contours of my mouth, he nimbly removes my simple beige bra. My nipples become hard peaks in the open air, and I yearn for when he’ll give them ample attention.

His hands brace on my hips, and he slowly lowers to his knees while his full lips travel from my mouth, to my neck, between my breasts, and along my stomach before stopping just above the snap of my jeans. Each time his kiss meets my flesh, shockwaves ripple throughout my body. Hands clenching at my sides, I fight the desperate urge to touch him, to dig my fingers into the thick muscles of his shoulders.

While unbuttoning my jeans and unhurriedly peeling them down my legs, he murmurs, “You’re so beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful wife,” against my belly.

A happy glow fills my thundering heart, and it makes me long to touch him for completely different reasons. Wearing nothing but my cotton panties, my figure more voluptuous than when we were younger, I feel like the most desirable creature alive simply because of Kaleb.

With his eyes locked on mine, he gracefully rises to his full height. We’re so close, I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Softly, he orders, “Take off your panties and get on the bed.”

Arousal pools between my legs from the quiet power and confidence that simmers within this mortal man that has the blood of angels coursing through his veins. My decidedly damp underwear joins the discarded clothes on the floor.

His gaze feels like a seductive caress along my body as he watches me pad barefoot across the laminate wood floors. I swing my hips invitingly on my way to perch on the edge of the bed, pleased to see there’s generous physical proof that he’s enjoying the view.

“I have a present,” he announces, walking to the bedside table to retrieve something.

“This trip is more than enough. I don’t need any more gifts,” I plead, because if I don’t put my foot down with these men, I’ll end up glittering like a disco ball under an obscene amount of jewelry.

Holding a silken red rope between his fists, he answers cockily, “Who said it was for you?”

A muted gasp of excitement escapes my lips, and a lustful ache blooms between my thighs at the mere sight of him. My muddled mind plays reruns of nights before, happily recalling the bone-melting sensations of what it felt like being joined together. That’s it! I need him naked and inside me now! Kaleb’s lips twist into a wicked grin, my thoughts apparently obvious on my face.

“Patience, columba mea,” he rumbles, returning to stand before me. “When you’re ready, hold out your arms with palms facing each other.”

This is not the first time he’s tied my wrists, though this particular rope is new. However, due to my, uh, early exposure to torture that included being tied down, Kaleb implemented safeguards every step of the way. He enjoys the control, the freedom to pleasure me as he chooses, and, most importantly, the amount of trust that is required with the act of binding me, but not at the cost of my comfort. This means my consent to being bound is separate from my consent to being dominated in bed. It doesn’t matter if we’ve done it hundreds of times, he will ask every time, and I have to be willing and offer them up enthusiastically before he will move forward.

Despite my complaining, I do this as much for my pleasure as his. There’s something deeply satisfying when all that’s asked of me is to enjoy the ride. This man has taken the time to know me inside and out, and I get to relish his skillful work. I’m also free to be a bit immature. I can tease, whine, and pout, knowing it’s all in fun. Kaleb will play with me, giving me silly rules to follow so that, for one evening, my mind can put the mantle of who I am down. For this night, I’m simply Callie.

A smile of impish delight tugs at my mouth as I take in the view of Kaleb’s cock straining against the loose-fitting linen pants. They leave little to the imagination, and I have to fight back the urge to grope him. Sweatpants have nothing on these, and bless the goddess, he’s commando under there! This husband is as cruel as he is clever. Pining for the time I get to touch him, I eagerly hold my arms out, because the only thing worse than me not touching him is the time wasted where he could be touching me.

With a practiced hand, he ties an intricate pattern of knots that span from my elbows to my wrists, the crimson color pretty against my golden skin, and he finishes with a bow at my joined hands. Though there is no give in the bindings themselves, for comfort’s sake, there’s more slack in the ropes between my elbows and upper arms. Pleased with his work, he runs one finger along the silken binds, the flesh he grazes tingling on contact, before tucking a loop of remaining rope into my palm.

“Pull on that and it all comes undone,” Kaleb promises, his voice gentle as he provides the second safeguard—the third being a safe word I’ve never even come close to needing to use. The pull rope is kind of unnecessary since I can use my magic to literally shred it from my limbs, but it’s the thought that counts…and probably an attempt to ensure the rope’s survival for next time.

I nod my understanding while testing the give of the bindings. Examining the bow, I tease, “Aren’t you supposed to unwrap presents this time of year?”

“The twenty-fifth is two days away,” he muses in a heated timbre. “Are you suggesting I should leave you tied up until then?” He touches my face, his thumb gliding across my lips. “I’m more than happy to keep you tucked away with me.” He pauses for a moment, an amused smile pulling at his lips, before adding, “Especially as you are now.”

Thoughts of spending two days tied up and naked while Kaleb takes his time devouring me cause my whole body to flush and my skin to tingle. Because it turns out my self-control isn’t that great when it comes to the sexy men I married, I take advantage of the fact my arms are bound in front of me and cop a feel.

“Oh, you’re going with naughty this Christmas,” he says with a chuckle, a wonderfully deep sound like distant thunder that’s quickly followed by a muted groan as he presses himself against my palms.

“How can you expect me to play nice when you’re standing there tempting me?” I reply coyly, rubbing my face low on his belly while considering the logistics of dragging his pants down with my teeth.

“Mmm, I see your point,” he murmurs. He slides his hand from the side of my face and buries it in my loose blonde hair, lifting his shirt a few inches with the other.

As soon as my lips hit skin, I begin running my tongue along the taut flesh positioned seductively between the V of his Adonis belt, my hands awkwardly stroking him through the fabric of his pants. He’s covered in a light sheen of sweat that leaves a salty taste in my mouth, because not only are we hot, but so is the room, the windows collecting beads of condensation on their panes.

Unconsciously, my knees drift open. I’m unbelievably aroused by how I must appear, naked and bound as I service him, the uncovered windows making me feel exposed. Kaleb isn’t a man for exhibition but considering literally no one but the guys are on this island, I imagine he felt safe leaving the curtains open to enjoy the view while we make love.

Before my mouth can get to the more throbbing bits, he gently tugs a fistful of my hair and murmurs, “That’s enough. Now, I want you on the bed, lying on your belly with your hands above your head.”

“Not nearly enough,” I mutter, giving him a little nip of my teeth before assuming the position. “Have I mentioned lately that you have an obscene amount of self-control?”

“Only with you,” he promises huskily, reaching for a bottle of lotion out of the same drawer as before, and then he straddles my naked thighs. “What turns me on more than anything else is watching you lose yourself in the pleasure I give you. I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”

Damn him for sounding all romantic while he has me tied up and pinned to the bed. My answer is an attempt to grind my ass against his groin. He doesn’t really stop me, per se, but he flexes his thighs to inhibit my movement. I can definitely feel his hard-on against me, but I can’t decide if that’s really a win for me in this mock struggle we’re having.

My head faces one of the windows, and in its reflection, I witness the seductive sight of Kaleb’s rippling muscles as he pulls off his shirt. He’s beautiful. A sculpture of the gods in the flesh, and he’s mine. A wave of possessive satisfaction rolls through me that loosens my muscles, and I stretch lazily beneath him, now the picture of a woman ready to be pampered and pleasured by her lover.

Sensing the change, he relaxes his thighs. After squeezing lotion into his hand, he tosses the bottle farther down the bed, rubs his hands together, and then places them at the base of my spine. A moan that has nothing to do with eroticism flows out of me as his strong fingers work their way up my back, relieving tense muscles I didn’t even know I had.

“If I fall asleep, it’s your fault,” I mumble, enjoying the scent of coconut being rubbed into my skin.

“I think I can find ways to keep you awake,” he boasts, sliding his hands around my ribcage to cup my breasts. When he pinches my nipples between his fingers, it’s like a live wire directly connects the tight buds to my pussy, and I groan into the pillow. The smart-ass then asks, “Still sleepy?”

“Wide awake now,” I gasp breathlessly, squirming under the pleasure. “More, please.”

“As you wish, since you asked so nicely,” Kaleb croons, kissing my shoulder.

His touch slides down my back, kneading tight muscles as he goes, and he finishes by rounding my hip to slip between my legs. One hand, slick with my arousal, begins to tease my clit, while the other makes its journey back up my body. The combination of nurturing and sexual caresses leaves my mind empty of anything outside of his touch.

Within moments, I’m left panting as I grind myself against his palm, chasing my release.

“Go ahead and come for me,” he encourages, pushing two thick fingers inside me. Then, he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“I want you now,” I plead, my hands tightening into useless fists above my head. The room seems loud simply from the wild beat of my heart.

“Show me,” he growls, his kisses now including teeth. He slips in a third finger, creating a low ache as I stretch to accommodate it. His free hand squeezes one of my breasts, twisting and pinching my nipple. “Come for me.”

He means this quite literally. Kaleb may not have the cock with the most inches, but he does reign supreme in girth. In an attempt to limit the possible pain from penetration, ever since the first time we made love, he ensures I come at least once before he’ll enter me.

Like a desperate animal, I shake and shiver under his ministrations, going so far as to wiggle onto my knees and elbows to try to press him deeper within me. The promise of an orgasm builds, the mounting pressure turning my muscles to stone.

With my butt now in the air, Kaleb sits back on his heels. His hand drifts from my breast to my ass, one cheek filling the palm of his hand. He spreads me wide, his thumb teasing my puckered hole. It feels so delectably naughty that another low moan breaks the sound of our labored breaths.

“I love the way you sound while I pleasure you,” he proclaims, dropping a heated kiss to the base of my spine. “Your moans are so sexy. Don’t hold back, columba mea. Let me hear you. Tell me how good you feel.”

“It feel…fuck, so good,” I cry, dizzy from the heady aroma of sex, sweat, and coconut. “Don’t stop!”

Staring at our reflections in the window, I see myself—hair a wild mess of blonde waves, my hands in a prayer position above my head, my lower body arched to give him better access to pleasure me—and another moan breaks free as I strain in ecstasy under his skillful touch.

Kaleb’s face is unguarded, his lids drooping low with lust and his full lips parted by harsh breaths. He’s enraptured by me. Through our movements, his pants have slid off his hips, exposing part of his round ass and a few inches of the base of his cock. That’s what sends me over the edge—the vision of us tangled together.

A little more desperate than he let on, Kaleb flips me onto my back, lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder, and pulls out his cock, glistening with precum. While I’m still twitching under the force of my first orgasm, he enters me.

Despite how many times we’ve had sex, or how much foreplay we have, I gasp every time because he’s always bigger than my body remembers.

He doesn’t move, just holding himself within me while I adjust. A deep, masculine groan rumbles low in his throat, already affected by my inner walls squeezing him with every throb of my heartbeat. “Gods, you’re tight.”

“You’re big.” I half laugh, my hips already encouraging him to move.

Noticing me slowly rocking against him, he holds my shin with one hand while the other gently goes back to stimulating my clit. Controlled even when desperate, he slowly begins to thrust, each stroke following a rhythm of his choosing. My hands are still very much bound, so again, I’m left to his mercy.

I feel wonderfully full as pleasure coils from what feels like a deeper place within me, and I’m left suspended in this dreamy place occupied by only him and me. It’s wonderful, but not enough. Never enough.

“More,” I beg, twisting within my restraints and bucking my hips. “Deeper...Harder...Faster...”

“Like this?” His teeth glow white within his wicked grin. He moves my legs over his hips, and with his hands, he holds mine firmly above my head. He does a maddeningly slow thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt, and it feels so fucking good.

Digging my heels into his back, I try to encourage him to go faster, but that just leads to one of his hands gripping my hip to hold me steady. Again and again, he pounds deep within me, the measured pace pushing me higher and higher. Our shadows dance in the flickering light, while our skin grows slick with exertion, and I feel like I’m somewhere between flying and falling. Drowning under the sensations he stirs within me, I lean up and steal a kiss. He answers with a deep, lingering one of his own.

“Look at me,” he demands when our lips part, his features carved into a twisted expression of desire and possession. “Keep your eyes open and look only at me.”

I nod in answer, and he summons his beautiful golden white wings. Tucking them around us, he shrinks the world to only our joined bodies. Everything rises in intensity as I witness all the love, joy, and pleasure I feel mirrored in his eyes. I’m also a whole new round of frustrated since I know his wings are an erogenous zone and I can’t touch them.

If I can’t change the tempo, I can certainly heighten the beat. I meet each thrust of his hips with my own, undulating my body to rub against him. His breaths grow heavier, sharper, and my ears are now filled with the cacophony of lust-filled moans, labored breathing, and the wet slap of flesh against flesh.

“It feels so good to be inside you,” he confesses, his brow furrowing in concentration while I feel his muscles tense between my thighs.

“So good,” I echo, my rational thoughts fluttering away with his harsh grip on my hip and more forceful pounding. “Yes...yes...don’t stop.”

Together, we climb to what feels like unreachable peaks, my entire being an overwhelming collection of sensations until I can no longer bear it, and I finally shatter beneath him. Pleasure ricochets through me so forcefully, my muscles seize, and I bow under its intensity.

My climax grips him so tightly he can barely move, and it’s not long before he follows me, moaning my name as he comes.

Riding the blissful aftershocks, I wrap my legs around his waist to hold him to me. No longer content with just being touched, magic flows through me to tear the rope from my limbs.

“Didn’t like it?” Kaleb questions through his labored breaths with concern, searching my face for something he might have missed in the midst of our lovemaking.

“No, I liked it,” I assure him, bits of rope tumbling off the pillows while I wrap my arms around his neck. “But now I want to be able to use my hands.”

“For?” he asks, both curious and bemused.

“To do this,” I answer gleefully, then gently run my fingertips over the soft downy feathers around the base of his wings.

His body shudders as if gripped by another climax, and then he collapses on top of me. “That wasn’t nice,” he mumbles into the pillow, gripping me tighter as he shivers under the mixed sensations of my inner walls milking his cock and my fingers stroking his wings.

“Liar,” I reply around a laugh, enjoying the feeling of us pressed together. “It feels very nice.”


Chapter 2

An earthy aroma of coffee mixed with hints of peppermint pulls me from a deep sleep the next morning. When I open my eyes, it’s to find Connor with a mug in his hand. A candy cane hangs off the edge of the mug like a stirring stick.

“‘Morning,” I mumble, blinking several times before my eyes focus. Once I’m awake enough to sit up, and I finish adjusting my nightshirt that says Boss Witch across the chest, Connor hands me the mug. I breathe in the heavenly scent and croon, “Cada dia te amo mas.”

¿Yo o el café?” He laughs. The low, smooth sound always makes me happy every time I hear it. The way it now comes so easily was hard-won.

I pretend to think on the matter, taking a sip of my coffee and eyeing him carefully over the rim. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he stares right back at me like he has all the time in the world, a hint of an amused smile on his lips.

With a sigh that makes it sound like it was a close call, I answer, “I love you more, of course.”

“Helps that I bring your coffee every morning,” he counters with a grin, wrinkles crowding his amber eyes.

“Yes, it does,” I agree with a matching grin. After taking another sip, I fiddle with the candy cane, swishing it around in the mug. “What’s with this?”

“Festive,” he replies as he leans over for a kiss.

“Ah, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” I exclaim, hiding my mouth behind my free hand.

He squints, his gaze shifting from the coffee mug to my covered mouth. Making a quick decision, he nabs the candy cane from my mug, takes a bite off the tip, and drops the rest of it back in the mug. Gently, he pushes my hand out of the way and purrs, “Open up.”

His command causes shivers to race down my spine, and after setting my mug on the side table, I gamely do as he asks.

Connor closes the distance for a kiss, supporting the back of my neck with one of his hands while he feeds me the piece of candy from his mouth. Our tongues mingle around it, and the warmth of his mouth and the cold bite of peppermint is surprisingly sexy. It doesn’t hurt that all of my men are amazing kissers. A wise Ms. Dorothy advised me long ago on the importance of that particular skill.

A dreamy hum vibrates from my throat in response to the way he lazily explores my mouth, and unconsciously, I lean into him, my hands searching for purchase on his shirt to pull him against me. His scent becomes heady, a musk mixed with his normal crisp fragrance of a forest, as need begins to burn through my veins. We’re in a sexual feedback loop—my desire for him heightening his desire for me, causing his body to react to attract his mate, which then makes me even more aroused. The more in sync we’ve become over the years, the more our bond has strengthened. It can also make our lovemaking rather intense if we’re not careful.

With visible difficulty, he pulls away first, breathing heavily while carefully detaching my hands from his soft blue shirt. “Finish your coffee, mi reina, before it gets cold. I’ll start the shower so the water is warm for you.”

“Then we pick up where we left off?” I suggest, chewing on the candy he left in my mouth.

“I look forward to it,” he murmurs, leaning over to give me another kiss, but he stops mid-motion, his expression a mixture of desire and restraint, and chooses to get up instead.

As the saying goes, I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave. Connor is broader in the chest and shoulders than he was when we were young, but he hasn’t lost that lanky grace he somehow manages with that six-foot-five frame. His ass also looks great in the sleep shorts he’s wearing, and I look forward to seeing him naked very soon. After I finish my coffee first. The power of a spirit witch may allow me to recover faster from a long night of making love, but a girl still needs her caffeine boost to make it through the day. Especially alone on a private island with five men all wanting my attention. A busy Yule meant a lot of nights where I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Gulping down my coffee as fast as I can without burning myself, I hop out of bed to start my day out right—shower sex with my hot, wolf shifter, mate. It’s good to be me.

Quickly taking care of my personal morning business, I strip down and step into an outrageously huge shower. My entire body throbs as I watch Connor rinse shampoo from his short, brown hair. His head is bent back under what looks like a waterfall coming out of the ceiling, his loose curls plastered to his skin. The water and soap running down his warm, copper skin sparkle under the sunlight shining through the mostly glass room. He’s fully erect, his cock drooping under its own weight and twitching between his thighs. A satisfied smile sneaks across his lips, already aware I’m standing here ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he inquires, pushing back his hair and opening his eyes just enough to meet mine.

“Always,” I croak, stumbling like a drunk person over the white marble floor.

He catches me before I can do something truly embarrassing, holding me close to his body. “¿Estás bien?”

“I’m fine. It was all part of my master plan to get my hands on you,” I reply cheekily, snuggling into his embrace. Straining onto my tiptoes, I slide my hands up his chest and wrap them around his neck, my naked skin becoming wet and slippery against him.

“No plan needed,” he growls into my ear, gripping my thighs to hoist me into the air.

With a squeak of surprise, my legs automatically wrap around his waist, and a familiar ache once again blooms inside me, impassioned by the feeling of my core pressed against his firm belly.

He walks us both underneath the hot water, kissing me as he goes. Connor’s mouth still has the taste of the candy cane, while mine is just minty—I made sure to brush my teeth before getting in. This kiss is hungry, the ten minutes or so spent apart seeming to stoke the flames rather than cool them.

My arms and legs wrap tighter around him, and I press myself against him as if our bodies could meld into one, our mouths crashing together. With bruised lips, and the click of teeth meeting teeth, he consumes me, and I want more. I want him inside me. No foreplay. Just the harsh surprise of my already slick pussy taking his many inches in all at once.

One of the perks of being mates is that I don’t have to say a word for him to know what I want, my desire transmitted through our bond. Not bothering to walk out of the water, Connor uses one arm to brace me against him, while his free hand lines his cock up to my entrance.

Tómame,” he growls, holding me suspended in the air and waiting for me to accept him. “Soy tuyo para siempre.”

“Fill me, mi lobo,” I answer because want and consent are two different things. “Give me all of you. Don’t hold back.”

Slamming me down on his length, he hisses with how tight I am while I cry out his name in elation. Any discomfort is overpowered by pleasure as he pushes deeper inside me than any other, and I immediately start riding him hard. Taking a wide stance to hold us steady, he adjusts his arm to better support my back, and his other hand moves to grip my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He follows my lead, pounding into me at the pace I want, and I feel weightless in his arms.

I hold onto his shoulders with all my strength, close my eyes, and tip my head back. While the water pours over our bodies, Connor takes the opportunity to suck one of my nipples between his lips, abusing the delicate point with his teeth. The bite of pain on the right side of pleasure sends a jolt through me, like a firework exploding, and I cry out again, the sound amplified in the spacious shower. He continues to mark me with his mouth, a mixture of sucking and biting across my chest, shoulder, and neck.

My fingernails claw into his skin as need pours from him into me and back. This is a fusing of two bodies. Mating. Claiming. Becoming one. Our souls, already intertwined for years, dance in celebration that he is mine and I am his. Forever, we are woven into the tapestry of the other by love and magic.

I return bite for bite, capturing his lip between my teeth as we kiss, his earlobe as I moan my pleasure into his ear, and on his shoulder, right next to the pearlescent scar that is testament to the explosive nature of my power. The magic of gods pulses through my veins and it calls to him. My protector. My lover. My wolf.

“Ah, mi reina,” he gasps, his muscles flexing and tightening as we climb together toward oblivion. “Te amo siempre y para siempre.

“I love you too,” I pant, drowning in his joy and pleasure and reflecting my own into him. “Forever and always.”

The steam of the shower and the intensity of our lovemaking makes it feel like the world is spinning wildly beneath us, and I enjoy riding the waves, trusting Connor not to drop me. Fatigue builds within my arms and legs as my muscles clench under the pressure of our building climax, because not only am I close, but I can feel how close he is, the sensations bleeding into each other until I’m buckling beneath one loud song.

“I’m close...fuck,” I shout with a hint of frustration.

“Me too,” he echoes, his voice strained.

Since he’s busy making sure we don’t fall, I push one of my hands between us and tease my clit, my knuckles brushing against the base of his cock each time he pounds into me. My inner walls clench around him, and I ride him as hard and as fast as I can in this position.

Connor’s release comes like a flash of light that pierces hot within me, and I shatter beneath it, my climax a bright array of sensations sparking through every nerve ending. He groans a litany of mumbled Spanish that, despite all of the years I’ve studied, I can’t understand, though the words I do know are colorful curses. He wobbles, desperate to hold us both up although his joints protest. Quickly, I magic over a small, wooden bench that was fitted against the one tile wall so that it’s in the perfect spot for Connor to sit. He collapses gratefully, panting and shivering as he holds me against him while the water beats onto the top of our heads.

For a long moment, we’re both quiet, recovering from the explosion of our shared experience. A mixed blessing, that one. Its pleasure is unmatched but experiencing two people’s orgasms nearly simultaneously is very draining. Nothing like starting the day with sex so intense my legs don’t work.

Once he seems to come back to himself, Connor gently kisses my forehead and the tip of my nose, then he softly presses his lips against mine. His brows furrow when his gaze shifts to the hickies and bite marks he’s left on my body.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs, his fingers carefully tracing a rather impressive one on my left breast.

I fight the instinct to roll my eyes. He has always been a bizarre juxtaposition of being a fierce advocate of my power while also being oversensitive in regard to any perceived threat to my body—even if it’s his love bites given in the midst of passion. My other spouses would gloat. This one frowns.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, letting the easy flow of magic roll over my skin to heal the small abrasions as I did the night before with any lingering marks from being tied up. With a wicked grin, I add, “More than fine.”

Feeling like a sexy goddess, I attempt to slide off of him and stand, but, forgetting that I have newborn calf legs thanks to being fucked into oblivion, my right leg doesn’t quite clear his bent knee, and I fall back on top of him. Obnoxiously well recovered, he easily catches me, stands without issue, and gently leads me to sit down on the vacated bench.

“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” I complain with faux outrage, folding my arms underneath my breasts.

Any lingering worry has left Connor’s eyes, replaced with a familiar expression of masculine satisfaction while he goes to retrieve my toiletries from a corner of the shower. Apparently, bruises and bite marks are reasons for concern, but my legs not working due to the intensity of his lovemaking, well, that was just fine.

While pouring shower gel into my loofah, his gaze roams my wet body, paying special attention to my lifted breasts, and his cock begins to harden again.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn with a pointed look. “Once is enough for you this morning. This wife needs to be bathed and fed. Get to it.”

“Yes, my queen,” he replies, using my pet name in English for effect as he drops gracefully to his knees before me. With a sly smirk on his lips and heat in his eyes—an expression full of the confident machismo of a man who knows he’s desirable—he starts soaping one of my legs, his strong fingers kneading my muscles below the slippery pomegranate scented soap.

To his credit, he only helps me bathe, just like I asked. After he makes sure every inch of my body is clean, he takes special effort to wash and condition my hair, carefully running a thick comb through my wavy tresses to work the conditioner evenly throughout. It’s a heavenly experience, even if I’m left feeling mildly horny, because, well…he’s extremely attractive and more of a shower than a grower. He has quite a lot of inches on display.

After the shower, he’s just as attentive to helping me dry off, rubbing lotion all over my skin, and patiently combing and drying my hair. My pale grey eyes watch him work through the reflection in the large mirror that hangs over a wide counter with double sinks. A towel hangs loosely tucked around his slim hips, and his brown hair is a messy mop on the top of his head. He’s both aware and oblivious of his innate beauty. His expression is one of marital joy that comes with the easy freedom to touch and care for one’s partner. Helping me get ready is something he enjoys doing, he takes every opportunity he can, and I can’t help but feel like the queen he’s always called me. Pampered and loved.

Once he’s finished, I head for the giant walk-in closet. Digging through my suitcase, I pull out panties and a sundress. Connor smiles as he watches me dress, his arms folded over his chest as he leans against the doorframe, amused by the patterns on my clothes. There are candy canes on my white bikini cut panties, and a dense pattern of mistletoe on my spaghetti strap sundress. I leave the girls free since the only people who will see me are my men.

“What do you think?” I ask while doing a small twirl, the skirt of the dress swishing about my hips.

“Festive,” he answers in all of his concise glory, his smile growing to a grin. He’s never grown out of the delight of frustrating me with one-word answers.

“Thank you, oh succinct one,” I retort with a raised eyebrow, fighting a smile because I really shouldn’t encourage his behavior.

He nods, his grin nothing but teeth at this point.

Sighing, I walk over to him, lean up on my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re lucky I love you,” I mutter.

Connor’s expression sobers for a moment, and he looks directly into my eyes when answering, “Yes, I am.”

There’s a cold pang in my chest, the call and answer to what he’s really saying with those three words. He’s not just a man happy to be loved by his wife, but a survivor elated to be loved at all. Most of our wounds have scabbed over and are now scars, but some still have the tactile bump that’s easily felt when brushed against.

I acknowledge his words with a soft kiss, and he rubs his cheek against mine, the scrape of his stubble abrasive against my skin. We stand together in our little bubble until hunger audibly grumbles from my stomach, ending our quiet moment.

“Off with you,” I demand with a light push against his unyielding pec. “I’m hungry, and you need to get dressed.”

After planting another kiss on top of my head, he rolls to stand upright and unhurriedly makes his journey toward the bedroom door. Because I’m still low-grade horny and it’s his fault, I snag the towel from his waist to reveal him in all of his naked glory. He really does have such a nice ass.

He squints down at me, and I answer with a coy batting of my eyelashes, an expression of innocent confusion… or as best as I can manage while also trying not to giggle like an idiot. “Go on. Breakfast awaits. I think I smell French toast.”

There’s a raised eyebrow followed by a twitch of his lips, but he inevitably shrugs his shoulders and continues on his way because he’s a wolf shifter, and therefore not concerned with something so pedestrian as nudity.

I wait at my bedroom door until I hear the groans and grumbles from the others stating that just because they’re family, that doesn’t mean they want to see him naked. Nolan pipes up that he has no complaints and encourages Connor to walk around naked as much as he wants. There’s the low rumble of Donovan informing Nolan where he should be looking. Felix laughs while also lamenting that some things can never be unseen, as if this isn’t the umpteenth time he’s been faced with nude Connor. Kaleb groans that he just wants to eat his breakfast in peace.

Hooting with laughter, I make my way toward the kitchen, ready to enjoy good food with great company. It really is good to be me.


Chapter 3

Sitting at the marble island in the kitchen, I swish my hand, and frosting floats from its container and spreads over the sugar cookie. As a final touch, little candy ornaments follow suit, spacing themselves evenly to look like garland.

“I’m pretty sure that’s cheating,” Felix accuses while he attempts to frost his portion of sugar cookies with a butter knife. He has as much frosting on his hands as the sugar cookies have on their surfaces.

“I’m playing to my strengths,” I reply smugly, moving the decorated cookie to the finished rack and getting a new one from the naked cookies on a plate between Felix and me. “I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but magic means I don’t need one. I imagine what the final product should look like, and poof, a perfectly decorated cookie.”

“In other words, cheating,” he retorts, licking some of the frosting off the side of his hand.

My imagination shifts from pretty cookies to what it would be like to suck the frosting from his fingers. Seriously, I need to get my mind out of the gutter. I literally got laid last night and this morning. How can I still have sex on the brain? Apparently, the momentary thought shows on my face, because in the corner of my eye, I notice Nolan smirking at me knowingly from his seat on one of the counters.

Felix is oblivious because, well, he’s always oblivious. Despite all our years together and the many times I’ve jumped him, he’s still surprised by the concept that I actively lust after him. It took a lot of time for him to really be comfortable in his own body, and though he’s not ignorant to the fact that he’s attractive, there still seems to be a disconnect with the understanding I think he’s hot when he’s doing benign activities. Fortunately, I find it cute every time he gets all red when he realizes I’m seducing him.

“D, Callie’s using magic to decorate the cookies!” Felix tattles, but he has a goofy smile on his face as he says it.

“I don’t care,” Donovan grumbles, then smacks Nolan’s hand as he tries to steal a bite of cherry pie filling. “Fucking hell, you’re like children.”

“See? Not cheating,” I taunt, doing exaggerated gestures as I magic another cookie to be perfectly decorated.

Felix gets up from his stool to stand behind me, his thick arms wrapping around my waist. “You know, you could just magic all the cookies into frosted goodness.”

“What would be the fun in that?” I reply sweetly, tipping my head back to look up at him. Waggling my eyebrows, I add, “Besides, I like you all covered in frosting.”

“Oh yeah?” Felix challenges, his cheeks already starting to flush. He reaches over me to dig three fingers into the container of frosting, and then he rubs them all over my face. I squeal, some of the frosting falling from my face and down my dress. “Frosting looks good on you too, my pretty wife.”

He cringes as if preparing for a counterattack of flying frosting, but instead I give in to my earlier dirty thoughts and suck one of his frosting-covered fingers into my mouth. “Tastes good too.”

Felix swallows heavily, his bright green eyes looking at my frosting coated lips and chest with new intentions. His free hand gently wraps around my throat, supporting my upturned face, and his lips part as he watches me feed another one of his fingers into my mouth.

“Oh, I want to play too,” Nolan purrs, leaping off the counter, and with blinding speed, he appears at my side armed with a can of whipped cream. Normally, he moves at speeds appropriate for humans, but apparently when it involves the possibility of food and sex, out comes the vampire reflexes. In no time, I feel the cold touch of whipped cream down my chest, followed by Nolan’s hot tongue. I moan around Felix’s fingers as Nolan makes his way toward my breasts, teasing one of my nipples through my messy sundress.

Donovan braces his hands on the kitchen counter, the muscles of his back flexing from his grip. Though it’s a sign of his strained patience, it’s a nice view since he’s naked from the waist up except for a plain black apron.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he states, the gravelly element to his voice made all the stronger with his tested restraint, “but if you’re gonna fuck, it won’t be in my kitchen. I’m trying to make a nice dinner, for fuck’s sake, and I don’t need jizz making it into one of the damn main courses.”

“But protein is good for you,” Nolan jokes, earning a glare from D, followed by him shouting, “Out!”

Giggling, we flee into a nearby den, Nolan nabbing the can of whipped cream on our way out. The room has smooth cement flooring that’s cool under my bare feet, and light shines in from the mostly glass roof. I tug on Felix’s arm, dragging him down with me onto one of the two plush, off-white couches that sit L-shaped around an avant-garde fireplace—a floating orb attached to a flue that has special sealing through the glass roof.

For a moment, I wonder if it’s fair to have sex in easy hearing distance from the kitchen, but my thoughts flutter away as Felix claims my mouth with his, lust having pushed away any of his lingering awkwardness. His tongue aggressively dives into my mouth, and he tastes sugary sweet thanks to the frosting. Another moan escapes my lips when he pushes the straps of my dress down and cups one of my naked breasts, pinching my nipple between his fingers.

When Felix releases my mouth to kiss my neck, I notice the combination of frosting and whipped cream that is slathered on me is also transferring to the couch. My voice breathy due to Felix’s attentions, I question, “Should we be doing this here? Frosting and... other things might be hard to get out of the upholstery.”

“I’m sure it’s seen worse many times,” Nolan comments with twisted amusement, and I remember that this is my in-laws’ house. Sex and the exploration of physical pleasure is something deeply rooted into vampire culture—it’s hard not to be when a vampire’s bite is designed to arouse their partner—and I take in the room that is stylishly minimalist with new eyes.

Felix mumbles a frustrated, “Really didn’t need to know that,” at the same time I put together that Mr. & Mrs. Campbell’s work ‘retreats’ out here were likely euphemisms for swinger parties.

Nolan laughs at my expression then leans over, bracing one of his knees on the couch, and whispers, “Felix and I better get to work if you can still think about furniture at a time like this.”

Abandoning the can of whipped cream on the floor, he tugs his shirt off, his short platinum hair looking mildly mussed in a sexy kind of way. His arctic blue eyes are full of desire, and he gently guides me to lie on my back, my head pillowed on Felix’s lap. I nuzzle Felix’s growing erection through his cotton shorts, causing him to gasp.

“You should help him out with that,” Nolan suggests with a wicked smile as he spreads my legs on either side of him, “and I’ll help myself to this.”

He slides his hand up my leg, reaching under my dress to the dripping panties underneath. I moan when his thumb finds my clit, and he begins stroking me through the fabric. With his other hand, he pulls my dress down until it’s nothing more than gathered cloth at my waist.

“You have the most perfect breasts,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against them with featherlight touches.

Felix hums his agreement and goes back to fondling and teasing my nipples with one hand, while the other lightly cups the back of my head. My skin burns under their caresses and heated gazes, and the need to touch back spurs me into action. Twisting at the waist, I angle myself so my mouth is positioned at the head of Felix’s cock. I stroke him through the fabric while the tip of my tongue licks the growing wet spot.

“Shit,” Felix hisses, his hand tightening in my hair.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Nolan breathes, his hand freezing near my left hip. His voice grows low and smooth when he instructs, “Take it out, love. I want to see your mouth full of his dick.”

“What do you think?” I ask Felix, looking up at him through my eyelashes, my lips brushing his erection as I speak. “Do you want me to suck you deep into my mouth?”

“Yes,” he blurts, his breathing heavy and his pupils blown wide. “I mean, if-if you want to.”

“I do,” I coo, biting my lip to keep from giggling.

Felix quickly helps to free himself, and after moving closer to my side, I hold his hot flesh in my hand. He releases a throaty groan when I lick a long trail up his shaft before swirling my tongue along the slit and sensitive head. Though not monstrous like some of the others, Felix isn’t small, so even as I attempt to fully take him into my mouth, my hand is left to stroke the remaining inches.

“So good,” Felix pants, his head tilted back as he becomes lost to the pleasure building inside him.

Nolan doesn’t remain idle, his nimble fingers pulling off my panties before he positions my knees over his shoulders. He buries his nose between my legs, his tongue running along the slickness of my pussy.

I groan, the sound muffled by my full mouth, and I reach down to twist my fingers in the strands of his soft hair, desperate to hold onto something.

“Mmmm. You taste so good, love,” he praises against my dripping flesh, and then he growls, “I’m going to tease, lick, and fuck you with my tongue until you come. I want to taste your release.”

The explicit way Nolan uses his words as much as his body to arouse me throws my mind into a lust-filled fog that pushes out the rest of the world. Unconsciously, I press my core against his face, and I can feel his smile against my flesh...along with the lengthening of his fangs. Sex and feeding have gone hand and hand with Nolan for a while, so his fangs tend to come out when he’s aroused, intentional or not.

My mouth full with Felix, I use my hand to guide Nolan’s lips to my inner thigh, my silent way of giving him consent to feed if he wishes.

“Thank you, but not yet,” Nolan replies, running the sharp edge of his fangs against my skin, creating a cascade of intense shivers. “I’ll wait until you’re riding us both and you’re just on the cusp of coming.”

While that mental image is causing an aching need to grow inside me, there’s an angry, “Fucking fuck,” bellowed from the kitchen, followed by the slap of fabric against a hard surface.

Felix’s cock falls from my lips as I twist my head to look over my shoulder, finding a very aroused and frustrated Donovan filling the doorframe, sans apron.

“I think he might have heard us,” Nolan stage whispers, peeking over my naked thigh.

“If dinner burns, it’s your fault,” Donovan declares to Nolan as he stalks over to us tangled on the couch.

His shockingly blue-green eyes, a trait inherited by his Morningstar lineage, make an assessing sweep, and he shakes his head. “Why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?”

“Hadn’t gotten that far?” Felix supplies with an awkward shrug, clearly startled by Donovan’s aggressive approach.

Donovan rolls his eyes then holds out his hand to me. “Come on, Angel. Stand up and I’ll get you out of that messy dress.” His tone is gentle while also flavored with the hint that he plans to make a mess out of me in a completely different way.

After awkwardly getting to my feet, it takes little time for my dress to fall to the floor, the light fabric now a sticky mess. Donovan pulls me firmly against him, pressing a punishing kiss to my lips while his large hands squeeze my ass. I stagger a bit when he stops kissing me, leaning into his hard body, and his trademark cocky smirk spreads across his face.

Looking over my shoulder, he arches one of his heavy black brows incredulously, noticing Nolan and Felix are still watching from their spots on the couch.

“Strip. Now,” he orders and takes a step back so he can relieve himself of his sweats and boxer briefs.

“He’s so bossy,” Nolan complains cheekily, rising with sinuous grace, and to be both sexy and obnoxious, he takes his time slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He holds my gaze, wanting my eyes on him as he slides his pants and boxer briefs down his hips. Once he’s naked, he strokes himself a few times, spreading the dripping precum down his shaft. “Like what you see?”

Goddess save me from these irritatingly confident men. Of course, their confidence is completely justified, with Nolan’s pale skin and lean swimmer’s body looking like he’s come right out of a fashion magazine, and Donovan, with the literal blood of celestial beings flowing through his veins, who looks like he’d fit right into some Greek myth about demigods. Nephilim are close, I guess.

Donovan and Nolan don’t really need anything from me to feel confident in the nude, so I offer up an appreciative smile then walk over to Felix. He’s standing to the side, holding his shirt in his hands, seemingly in an awkward holding pattern. He’s still very aroused, but Donovan also has a way of sucking up all the oxygen in the room, and I can read the uncertainty in his eyes.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, my bare breasts pressed against his firm chest, I murmur, “You don’t have to do this. We can go off just the two of us. I’m sure those two will find a way to entertain themselves.”

He chuckles softly, his sweet smile lighting up his face. It’s the smile I fell in love with because no matter what form Felix wears, that smile is always him.

“It’s okay,” he assures me, one of his hands drifting up and down my back, the gentle touch causing me to shiver. “I want to, I just don’t know how. The more people, the more...logistics are involved, and I really don’t want to be standing awkwardly in a corner waiting for my turn. That seems kind of the opposite of sexy.”

“I think you’re always sexy,” I reply, kissing his neck while one of my hands drops to fondle him. He releases a breathy sigh and leans into my touch. “Even when all you’re doing is standing there.”

“One of these days it’ll sink in,” he promises, though he seems distracted by what my hand is doing.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper, stepping back enough so I can push his shorts and underwear the rest of the way down. “I’ll tell you every day just how sexy I think you are. Like right now, I want to drop to my knees and blow you until you come.”

He curses, his whole body now a live wire ready for me to play with.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Nolan interjects.

Looking over, I find he and Donovan have already migrated to the couch when I wasn’t paying attention. I was right about them finding ways to entertain themselves, with Donovan already on his back and Nolan straddling him. They appear to have started jerking each other off, amusing themselves in, I believe, an odd attempt to give Felix and me privacy.

“What do you suggest?” I ask, walking over with Felix’s hand clasped in mine.

“Come and sit right here, Angel,” Donovan purrs, his grin wide as he gestures for me to sit on his face.

“The couch will be easier on the knees than concrete,” Nolan adds, his tone implying he speaks from experience. “Felix can stand in front of you, then it’s a good time for everyone.”

While I attempt to do as they suggest, I comment, “Sexy and pragmatic.”

“That’s me,” Nolan quips, earning a snort from Donovan. No matter how much they care about each other, they can’t resist taking shots when the moment presents itself, even naked with their dicks in each other’s hands. They’re ridiculous, and I love them with every fiber of my being.

Felix holds my hands and Nolan grips my waist as I settle myself over Donovan, tucking my lower legs beneath his shoulders. Donovan hums in male delight, once again grasping my ass with both hands and releasing a moist, hot breath against my pussy. I involuntarily jerk, my thighs giving out when he begins tonguing my clit, making tight, hard circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Nolan waves Felix over to him and having at some point retrieved the can from the floor, he sprays Felix’s dick with whipped cream.

“Damn it, that’s cold,” Felix complains behind me.

“Too bad I forgot cherries, but you’ll do,” Nolan states, and I hear the clunk of the can once again falling to the floor. “Now go give our wife a protein-filled dessert.”

“Wow, that was really bad,” he criticizes while laughing as he returns to my line of sight.

“Hey, they can’t all be winners,” Nolan replies without shame.

During this exchange, Donovan has kept himself busy by lavishing my wet core with bone-melting attention, switching between pushing his tongue deep within me and sucking on my clit. Soon, he must hold me steady as my hips move of their own accord, my body desperate to be filled.

Seeing Felix’s whipped cream covered cock, I immediately reach for him and start licking him clean. I’m not coy about it, wanting him with all the need that burns through my veins. After a lick and swirl around the mushroom head, I take a deep breath through my nose and suck as much of him as I can into my mouth. There are a few extra inches left when he hits the back of my throat, so I bob my head up and down the length of him, tightly gripping the arm of the couch to keep from tipping over. He tastes both sweet and salty, his precum mixing with the whipped cream.

“Your mouth feels so good,” Felix pants, his eyes heavy with lust as he watches me, his hands braced on either side of my head.

Nolan, not one to be ignored, pushes Donovan’s hands away and leaves a love bite on my ass. “Let’s get you ready for us, hmm?”

With that, Donovan doubles his efforts sucking on my clit while Nolan pushes two long fingers inside, quickly finding my G-spot, and pressing his thumb into my ass. I groan over the intrusion, and on the exhale, I deep throat Felix.

It only takes a few moments of my throat constricting around him before he shouts that he’s coming and cum pours down my throat. Still semihard, Felix withdraws, physically shaking from the intensity of his climax.

“That felt amazing,” he praises, grabbing his shirt to wipe my face clean. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” I rasp, weak under the pleasure rippling through my body.

“You looked so good sucking him,” Nolan whispers hotly in my ear, his slick fingers dragging from my pussy to join his thumb, gently stretching me to eventually accommodate him. “Fuck, I’m so turned on just watching you.”

“Please,” I beg, desperate to be filled. Desperate for release.

“Please, what?” Donovan prompts, his words muffled against my body.

“I want...I need…” The words come out in broken gasps, my mind having difficulty articulating anything.

“Need something a little bigger than fingers, love?” Nolan questions with a tone that borders on facetious.

“Yes, damn it!” I yell, my voice filling the mostly empty room.

“I think D and I can help with that,” he retorts, “but you’re gonna have to move down here.”

My legs are jelly at this point, and I need all three of them to assist me off of Donovan’s face so I can straddle his waist. I’m both extremely horny and exceedingly tired. Fortunately, Nolan is more than happy to help lower me onto Donovan’s impressively large cock.

“Damn, you’re so tight,” Donovan growls, his hands settling on my hips. “So warm.”

Felix, no longer self-conscious in any way, kneels by the couch and starts kneading my breast with one hand while sucking the nipple of the other into his mouth. I fist my hand into his shaggy, ash blond hair, holding his head against me while I begin to rock my hips, meeting Donovan’s thrusts with ones of my own.

Nolan continues to finger my ass, the additional stimulus driving me wild. Once he comfortably fits three fingers inside me, he asks, “Ready for more?”

My head bobs like a ragdoll’s because I’m beyond words at this point.

He guides me to lean forward, and ever so gently, he presses the slick head of his cock against me. Slowly, he pushes forward, and I can’t help but moan as he enters me. I feel deliciously full, and it doesn’t take me long to get comfortable with both of them inside me. I’ve been riding this knife’s edge of release for what feels like hours.

Lost to my own pleasure, I once again rock my hips, slamming against them harder than before. I greedily drag Felix’s mouth to mine and bring his hand to my clit. Between kisses, I beg Donovan and Nolan to fuck me harder and faster, consumed by the almost painful journey toward my release.

Felix, hard again, starts jerking off, the speed of his hand matching the tempo of our bodies. Donovan’s hands grip my waist with bruising intensity. Nolan has wrapped my hair around his fist, and when he senses I’m a hairsbreadth from climaxing, he jerks my head back and bites my neck.

His bite is like a spark that sets me ablaze, and with blood dripping down my curves, I climax, my entire body seizing with pleasure. My ass and pussy constrict around them like a vise, and with matching groans, they spill themselves within me. It takes a few more seconds for Felix to orgasm again, his cum filling his hand.

Nolan doesn’t feed for long, quickly retracting his fangs to suck at my punctured flesh. We all collapse into a heap, Donovan and Nolan taking a moment before withdrawing from my body while Felix lies on the floor, panting.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” I ask him from my position on top of Donovan.

“Nope,” he answers while using his shirt to wipe his hands off. “The cold cement actually feels pretty good right now.”

“Let me see,” Nolan mumbles, climbing off the couch and flopping down beside Felix. “He’s right, this does feel pretty good. You should come down here, love.”

“Or she can stay right here,” Donovan counters, draping a lazy arm over my back.

Satiated, Donovan looks like he’s ready to doze off like a cat enjoying a sun-warmed spot. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long as Felix frowns and sniffs the air. “Does anyone smell something burning?”

“Shit!” he shouts, quickly shifting me off of him and springing to his feet. Thinking nothing about being fully nude, he hurries back into the kitchen to retrieve whatever has spent too much time in the oven.

“Well, now that he’s gone, ready for round two?” Nolan jokes from his sweat-soaked position on the floor.

“Not without a nap,” I insist, stretching out on the couch and not thinking too hard about the mess we’ve made of it. Noticing how we’re all lounging around in the buff where we could easily be discovered makes me realize I have two men unaccounted for. “Do any of you know what happened to Connor and Kaleb?”

“Had to get something from the plane, I’m pretty sure,” Felix informs me around a yawn.

“Know when they’re supposed to come back?” I inquire, yawning in response to Felix’s yawn.

“Not for a while,” Nolan supplies, getting to his feet. He saunters over to me. “If you’re not going to join us on the floor, make room on the couch.”

Though the couches are quite deep, it’s not wide enough for three adult human beings to lie comfortably beside each other. This appears to be a nonissue for Felix and Nolan, who solve the problem by having me lie on top of Felix while Nolan lies on me. Naked and drowsy, we sleep the afternoon away.


Chapter 4

“! Merry Christmas, love,” Nolan cheers then leans over from beside me to give me a kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” I hum sleepily, snuggling back against Connor.

We finished dinner a few hours ago, and everything was delicious. The burning smell was the juices from the roasted chicken dripping onto the bottom of the oven. Full and happy, we dressed in our PJs and decided to stay up to welcome Christmas day under the soft glow of twinkling holiday lights. Turns out while I was having enthusiastic sex in the den earlier, Kaleb and Connor were secretly decorating the living room.

“I still can’t believe you smuggled a Douglas fir onto the plane,” I chuckle, admiring the simple decorations of lights and red ornaments on the tree tucked into one corner of the room.

“Doesn’t smell right otherwise,” Connor replies as if that clears everything up.

“We wanted to make it special,” Kaleb elaborates, leaning his head against my knee and absently massaging my foot.

“Well, thank you again. It’s beautiful,” I praise, sinking into this wonderful feeling of being surrounded by my husbands in this puppy pile way—sitting on Connor with Nolan on my left, Donovan on my right, Kaleb seated on the floor on my left, and Felix on the floor to my right.

There are so many rooms in this home that calling this space a ‘living room’ doesn’t quite fit, but I don’t know what else to call it. The floor is sunken in, with a couch that lines two-thirds of it, and a smattering of pillows scattered on the floor that encourages individuals to be as comfortable there as they would be on the couch. Most of the ‘walls’ fold away, making the space feel both indoors and outdoors at the same time. The room is raised above a tropical garden with a trickling waterfall...that the guys also decorated. Lights coil around small palm trees and weave through ferns. Little tealights set in beds of holly and pine bump lazily into each other as they float in the small pond.

The smell of the sea wafts in on a warm breeze and competes with the sharp scent of the Christmas tree. Wearing a thin, cotton nightgown, I’m surprisingly comfortable. The temperature has cooled down enough that I feel cozy tucked into this mass of bodies, and I can feel my eyelids drooping despite my nap this afternoon. It feels like the entire month has caught up with me, and I’ve reached the stage of tiredness that makes me want to sleep for days.

“You know, I was worried about coming here since it’s monsoon season, but the weather has been surprisingly good,” Felix comments, and I crack my eyes open to look up at the same deep blue sky he is. The moon is a crescent hanging boldly among a litany of stars.

A half-laugh escapes my lips, then I murmur, “Did you forget whom you married?”

He looks up at me in confusion, his usually vibrant green eyes shadowed in the dim light while the others start snickering.

“Thank you, Angel,” Donovan drawls while tilting my chin in his direction and placing a light kiss on my lips. “As entertaining as it would be for all of us to be locked up in this place while Mother Nature tries to rip this island apart, this is better.”

I release a throaty hum in acknowledgment and kiss him back.

“You did this?” Felix questions, squeezing my foot to get my attention.

“Controlling the weather was literally one of the first spells I ever cast,” I remind him, reaching out to run my fingers through his shaggy hair.

Controlling is a strong word for what happened in those early days,” Donovan teases, earning a glare from me.

“Those poor, poor trees,” Felix laments, then cries out in surprise when I tug on his hair.

“Am I ever going to live that down?” I grumble, flexing my legs in agitation, which just makes Kaleb and Felix hold onto them more securely.

Nolan pats my head. “Sorry, love. Burning down half a forest and then vaporizing the other half really sticks with a person.”

“That’s it, I’m gonna sleep alone, and you can all enjoy the incoming monsoon,” I seethe and attempt to stand. The attempt doesn’t really look like much since Connor tightens his arms around my waist, knowing they are empty threats. I can feel his amusement both through the bond and from him shaking with laughter because my tempestuous start with trees is hilarious now.

“Kaleb?” I say while looking down at his face.

“Yes, columba mea?” he answers, a small smile tugging at his full lips.

“Congratulations,” I extol. “Tonight, you are Best Husband.”

His face lights up with a wide grin, while Donovan complains, “Why him? I made all the delicious things you consumed today.”

“Well, not everything,” Nolan teases, flashing a wicked smirk.

“Shut up, Felix’s dick doesn’t count,” he fires back, and I nearly choke on my own spit.

“Lesson of the day,” I announce through my own laughter. “Don’t make fun of your wife if you want to be her favorite.”

“But it’s so much fun,” Nolan proclaims before dropping his voice to a smooth, husky purr. “I’ll just have to settle with being the sexiest husband.”

“Yeah, that’s not you either,” Donovan taunts, rolling his body in the way he does when he wants to draw attention to his heavily muscled frame. This is very effective since he hasn’t bothered with a shirt.

Nolan leans around me, his hand resting on my thigh, with a challenging look on his face. “That wasn’t what you were saying while my hand was wrapped around your—”

“Ooookay, and we’re not finishing that sentence,” I interrupt, noticing Felix is several shades of red while Kaleb and Connor are doing that thing where they pretend that they’ve suddenly become hard of hearing. “I love you all equally. There. Happy?”

“But I’m still the favorite for tonight, right?” Kaleb questions, apparently not as hard of hearing as I thought. His smug expression says everything. He’s enjoying the rare opportunity to rile the others up.

Los amo a todos, pero todos ustedes también me vuelven loca,” I grumble, lightly bumping my head against Connor’s chest. I’ve picked up Connor’s habit of switching between languages based on my irritation levels. It’s been surprisingly useful. Sometimes one language just isn’t enough.

This, of course, amuses all of them, and they start laughing. Nothing unites them faster than trying to get a rise out of me. It doesn’t take long for me to join in, because I wouldn’t have them any other way.

Once the laughter fades away, we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the peace that comes from getting away from one’s daily life. As I begin to drift off to sleep, Kaleb gives my knee a light squeeze and rumbles, “Still feel bad about leaving everyone back home?”

“Not anymore,” I answer with a yawn. “Best Yule present ever.”

He hesitates for a moment, then appeals, “How about we do this every year? Maybe not always to a tropical island, but every Christmas it’s just the six of us.”

Snuggled in the wonderful embrace of my guys crowded around me, each of them touching me in some way, my mind’s eye drifts to the future. It watches as our family grows. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. It sees our day-to-day lives blur in this cacophony of joy, laughter, and love, but also packed with all the little things that seem important at the time. Except at least once a year, we take this time for us. For a few days, the world slows down in the quiet embrace of the men I love, and we simply exist, relishing all that life has brought that year.

“I think that’s a great idea,” I reply, my tone filled with the softness of the love promised in the years to come. “I look forward to many, many more Christmas’s like this one.”

There’s a muted chorus of hums in agreement, and one by one, we drift off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that no matter what comes our way, we’ll always make time for each other. Glossary: Dulces sueños, mi reina- Sweet dreams, my queen mi lobo- my wolf columba mea- my dove Cada dia te amo mas- Every day I love you more ¿Yo o el café?- Me or the coffee?

mi reina- my queen ¿Estás bien?- Are you okay? Tómame- Take me Soy tuyo para siempre- I'm yours forever

Los amo a todos, pero todos ustedes también me vuelven loca- I love you all but you all drive me crazy too

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