Page 20 of Bound


  the dress. She looked a little like a faery princess. She was a long way

  from Fort Worth.

  “Don’t let that worry you,” Flanna said, getting off the bed. “Beck

  has his reasons. He’s done things he’s not proud of. Give him time.

  Let him come to trust you.”

  Shaking her head, Meg stood and smoothed the skirts one last

  time. Flanna gave her soft slippers for her feet. She had no intention

  of bonding with either brother any more than she already had. It

  wasn’t fair, but she didn’t intend to give Cian a chance to hurt her.

  She would get through the evening and then sit Cian down in the

  morning for a thorough discussion of how this “marriage” was going

  to work.

  In the meantime, she would get used to her new home. From the

  sounds of the party going on in the front yard, it seemed as though she

  was about to meet the entire village. It was time to put her game face

  on and start that learning curve.

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  She allowed Flanna to escort her to the door. They walked into the

  living room. The music was louder out here. The door was open. Meg

  could see the night was lit up with torches and a huge bonfire. All

  manner of Fae creatures danced around the bonfire. Some of them

  didn’t look even vaguely human. Meg felt her jaw dropping and

  forced it to close. A cheer went up when she walked into the yard.

  “Welcome, Queen Meg,” they said as she passed.

  She plastered a stunned smile on her face as they welcomed her.

  Then there was only one person in the whole world as Cian Finn

  walked up to her. He was so beautiful that Meg felt her heart seize.

  “My queen,” he said, bowing. He held out his hand. “A dance for

  your poor husband?”

  Meg let him lead her. When she was encircled by his arms, her

  head against his chest, she realized that Cian Finn might be even more

  dangerous than his brother.

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  Chapter Thirteen

  It was the horrible sound of the rooster crowing that woke Meg

  the next morning. It sounded like the damn thing was right outside her

  door. Meg tried to burrow under the pillow to escape the dreadful

  racket, but there was something attached to her little pillow, and it

  wouldn’t move an inch. An arm wrapped itself more tightly around

  her waist and pulled Meg closer.

  “Damn it,” Meg cursed as she tried to get out of bed. She was

  tangled in a quilt. She tried to orient herself. She was on the little cot in the barn, and she quickly found herself on her ass in the middle of

  the cold, dirt floor.

  “It’s too early, lover.” Cian’s Irish brogue was even thicker when

  he was drowsy. His hand came out seeking her once more, but he

  didn’t open his eyes. “Get back in bed. We’ll eat the rooster for dinner

  tonight, I promise.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be in my bed, damn it!”

  Meg gave her clothes the once over. She searched her memory.

  What happened last night? How had she ended up in bed with Cian

  when she’d promised herself she wouldn’t? Why was she wearing a

  gold ring on her left hand?

  She seemed to still be wearing enough clothes. Her lovely dress

  was on the lone chair in the small room, but she had on the thin shift

  that went beneath it, and she still had on her underwear. It was a good

  sign.

  Cian rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stretched his big body. He, on

  the other hand, didn’t appear to be wearing anything. His glorious

  frame was on full display. “You told me you refused to sleep in the

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  big bed. You told me you needed independence, and the only way you

  could have that was to live in abject poverty, with not a single

  comfort to your name.”

  “I doubt I put it quite like that,” Meg complained.

  She remembered last night, up to a point. There had been dancing

  and singing. She’d discovered that Flanna was a brownie. Meg had

  laughed and said that they ate brownies on the human plane. She then

  spent the better part of an hour explaining that she wouldn’t be

  coming after Flanna’s grandchildren. Sweets might not be a big part

  of Fae life, but ale was. It was the ale that did it. It had been slightly sweet and had a hell of a kick. Every time she finished a mug,

  someone put another in her hands.

  Cian scratched his belly. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was.

  His gray eyes opened fully for the first time. “No. You took a lot

  longer to explain it. It was quite the lecture, my lover. There was

  something about making your own way and roaring because you’re a

  woman. I didn’t understand it at all, and I consider myself a smart

  man. The only part I really got was when you told me we had to live

  here.”

  Cian showed no ill effects of the enormous amount of ale he had

  downed. He had to have doubled her intake. The boy could drink.

  “No, I said I needed to live here,” Meg corrected. Now she

  remembered that she had kissed Cian. She had been slightly drunk,

  and everyone was urging them to kiss. Meg had meant to placate them

  with a little peck, but Cian had dipped her back over his arm and

  overwhelmed her. His tongue had slipped into her mouth and had its

  way with hers. He’d rubbed his body against hers, and she’d felt

  every inch of his intent. He’d gotten her so hot she might have done

  him right there.

  She needed to stay away from him. He was always touching her.

  The night before, he’d held her hand or had his arm around her waist

  all of the time. There hadn’t been a single moment she wasn’t aware

  of him.

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  Cian’s face was sweet as he sat up and crossed his legs. He paid

  no mind to his nudity, or to his morning friend. “I know. You think

  living here will prove something to Beck. I don’t think so, but I’m

  willing to go along with what you want. Can we get a bigger bed,

  though? It was cramped last night. I have no idea how we’re going to

  fuck on that.”

  Meg gasped. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said last night. “We’re

  not. Cian, we need to talk.”

  “I can do that,” he promised with a sober look on his face.

  Meg couldn’t take her eyes off his enormous erection. It lay

  almost flat against his belly. “How do you expect me to hold a serious

  conversation with you like that?”

  He shrugged. “You’re my wife. It’s my permanent state around

  you. It would probably go away if you jumped on top of me and

  bounced around for a while. Well, it wouldn’t go away for long.”

  Getting to her feet, Meg turned away from the too-tempting sight.

  Her second husband was proving even more troublesome than the

  first. She needed to get properly dressed and get her day started.

  Perhaps then she would be better equipped to handle Cian. Her day

  clothes were still in the cottage. She would take some time to collect

  herself and then see to the farm.

  “I’m going to get dressed. You…I don’t know. Just take care of

/>   that,” she said, avoiding the delicious sight of him as she stumbled out

  of the room.

  She expected to step out into the leftover destruction from the

  night before, but the yard was pristine once more, without a sign of

  what had gone on. The gathering had been huge, with everyone in the

  village showing up to dance and drink. She had been introduced to

  sidhe, brownies, trolls, gnomes, and some dwarves down from the

  mountains. They had toasted Cian’s health and the twins’ marriage.

  Everyone spoke of Beck with great fondness, and Meg had learned a

  lot about her wayward husband. He had saved many of the people of

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  the village at great cost to himself. For years after the civil war, he

  had worked hard to settle refugees from his home plane.

  It would have been very easy for the king to settle on the Vampire

  plane. The Dellacourts were a wealthy family who would have taken

  in Beck and Cian. He could have lived in luxury, and no one would

  have blamed him. Instead, at seventeen, he decided to establish a

  village on a safe plane to give his people a home.

  Beck was their protector. Without him, the Fae would have

  dispersed and more than likely had trouble surviving on their own.

  Cian had given his brother all the credit for founding their own little

  kingdom. He’d explained to Meg that he had simply followed his

  brother’s lead. Beck had been the one to take charge in those dark

  years after losing their parents. Hearing the love and admiration for

  Beck did nothing to ease the ache in Meg’s heart that he couldn’t love

  her.

  Meg walked slowly, not minding the early morning’s chill. It

  really was beautiful here. There was a gentle mist coming up from the

  pond. She saw the cows contentedly eating grass in the distance. The

  sky was a soft watercolor of blues, pinks, and oranges. It was similar

  to her plane, but it felt so different. Even the air here was gauzy and

  sweet. The whole world seemed quiet and still. A wistful thought

  stole over her. She could be happy here. Meg took a deep breath and

  continued on toward the cottage.

  She would be happy here. Happiness was a state of being. She

  would just move to that state.

  She opened the cottage door and decided to start by getting

  dressed and fixing breakfast. She would battle the judgmental

  chickens again, and this time she would try frying the eggs.

  “Oh, god,” Meg breathed as a feeling of warmth suffused her

  lower regions.

  She barely managed to close the door behind her as she felt the

  connection between her and Cian open. It was like someone flicked a

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  switch on in her brain, and the channel had changed. She was

  suddenly tuned to the Cian Channel, and it was playing porn.

  He was stroking himself. She could feel it. His hand was gentle as

  he stroked from the base of his cock upward, all the way to the crown

  where he brushed his thumb firmly across the head. There was

  already wetness there. He used it to lubricate his palm and facilitate

  smoother strokes. He tightened his hold on the monster, and Meg felt

  him sigh as he spread his legs and upped the pace.

  Little drops of pre-cum wept from the slit of his dick. If she were

  with him, she would lean over and lick it off. Was that her thought or

  Cian’s? The connection was so new that Meg had to wonder. A vision

  of just what Cian wanted her to do flowed over her brain, taking over

  her thoughts. She would run the tip of her tongue just inside the slit

  and tease him lightly. His big body would shudder in response and

  urge her on. He would fist his cock while she sucked the head,

  begging him to feed her all of his cum.

  Meg felt Cian’s chuckle as though it came from inside her own

  body.

  “Bastard,” she whispered.

  He knew she could feel him. He was pushing the experience out

  toward her. It was like she was there with him, almost as though she

  was Cian. She could feel his pleasure and his intent. He wanted her.

  Oh, she could feel that. He wanted her so badly. Meg stumbled into

  the bedroom and threw her body on the bed. She wouldn’t be able to

  ignore the vision. It felt too good to ignore.

  His hand was firm now as he ran it up and down his cock. She

  writhed on the bed, her legs restless as he caressed himself. He was

  thinking about her. He’d moved on from thoughts of her mouth to

  other body parts. He was thinking how good it would feel to have her

  tight pussy all around him. The muscles of her pussy would clench

  around his cock, trying to tempt the cum out of him. He wanted to

  give her his cum. It belonged to her. It was only right for her to take

  it.

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  He wanted her on top, her breasts bouncing as she rode him hard.

  He would love the view from that position. He would grasp her hips

  and help force her down so his dick could hit her sweet spot.

  Her nipples were hard. Her pussy was already soft and wet. Every

  cell in her body had been taken over by Cian’s assault. He was there

  with her although their bodies were apart. It was intimate, so intimate.

  It was a lot like the connection she’d felt with Beck in the arena,

  though this time she knew what was happening.

  Cian pumped his cock. His hand slid from the head down, down,

  down to the place where the thick stalk met his balls. No wonder men

  did this an awful lot. It was so different from touching herself. There

  was a harder edge to it that she found fascinating. It felt really good,

  and she suddenly knew Cian could do this all morning. He would be

  careful and prolong the experience. He wanted to keep her in this

  state. He wanted her writhing and begging. Eventually he would give

  it to her, but only after he was satisfied that he had the upper hand.

  Maybe turnabout was fair play. Cian thought he had all the

  control. Could she break him? How would he like her pleasure?

  Would her softness feel as good to him as his rough lust felt to her?

  Meg pulled down the bodice of the dress and let her hands find

  her breasts. She let every sensation flow over her and pushed it

  toward him. Cian’s state of sexual arousal had her nipples peaked and

  sensitized. She moaned as she had the twin sensations of Cian’s hand

  on his cock and her fingers pulling at her nipples.

  How did this work? She closed her eyes and fantasized. She

  wanted Cian. He was different from his brother. He was so open with

  his sexuality it led her to be open with hers. In her fantasy, she saw

  Cian climb over her, his big body pressing hers down. She rolled her

  stiff nipples between her thumbs and her forefingers, tugging lightly.

  She imagined it was Cian’s mouth there.

  He would lick them at first. His tongue would curl around the

  nipple just before he let her feel the edge of his teeth there. He would

  bite down lightly, never crossing the line between pleasure and pain.

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  He would bite just enough to make the nip
ple flare with arousal. He

  would pop the nipple in his mouth and lave it with affection. Then,

  because this was her fantasy, she brought Beck in to suck on the other

  one.

  In her fantasy, Beck didn’t deny her anything. He took her breasts

  because they belonged to him.

  In her mind, she saw two dark heads bent over her breasts

  suckling. She would hold their heads to her breast, her hand sinking

  into the silky darkness of their hair. Their hands were everywhere.

  She felt Cian pick up the pace. His hand was pumping firmly

  around his cock. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her

  face. He was definitely getting the picture. It was time to move on.

  Fantasy Cian began to kiss down her belly. He licked and kissed

  his way south as Beck nuzzled her throat. In her fantasy, she was

  suddenly tied tightly to the bed. Beck’s hand collared her throat. He

  told her everything he intended to do to her in a honey-dark voice that

  left no room for disobedience. He and Cian had plans for their little

  wife. Cian was going to eat her pussy. Beck would play with her

  breasts, and after she had come, they would have their pleasure. Beck

  wanted her mouth. Cian would plunge that hard cock into her pussy.

  She would be helpless to do anything but feel them. They could do

  anything they wanted to her, and she would have no defense.

  She didn’t need one. They were her lovers, her husbands.

  She felt Cian’s deep approval at the image. Her fantasy had

  become his own. It was everything he wanted, both halves of his soul

  with one singular purpose between them—her pleasure.

  He was getting close. His cock was pulsing as Meg thought about

  Cian’s tongue fucking her pussy. Cian’s would spear her cunt as

  thoroughly and ruthlessly as any cock. Beck’s tongue would play on

  her nipples. Beck would suck on her nipples while Cian would lavish

  his love on the tiny bead until Meg exploded.

  Meg’s fantasy and Cian’s merged into one hot image. She

  couldn’t tell what she was thinking and what was Cian’s, but she

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  didn’t care anymore. His hand had tightened around his engorged

  cock. It was purple now as he raced to the finish line. Meg could feel