Page 44 of Once Upon a Dream

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Whatever it has to be so that I don’t have to let them go.

“Gonna come,” I grunt in warning. “Gonna come for you.”

Snow laces a hand through Scarlett’s hair and feeds the head of my cock past Scarlett’s lips. The moment I feel the wet heat of Scarlett’s mouth—so slick and silky against my bare flesh—my head falls back and my hips ram forward, shoving to the back of her throat as my balls clench and then semen erupts from my cock. I feel her swallowing around me, an exquisite squeeze as I pump her mouth full of come, and Snow’s hand on Scarlett’s head is relentless, forcing her to take more and more and more until finally I’m finished using her mouth.

“Fuck,” I mumble, sliding free from Scarlett’s lips and stumbling back. She looks up at me with wet eyes and a smile that would make the devil proud. “Holy fuck.”

She licks her lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m ready for a shower. Snow?”

They help each other to their feet and then, arms laced around each other’s backs, pad gracefully back to the bedroom, their pert asses moving so temptingly beneath swaying hair.

With a muttered curse, I follow, undressing as I go, already getting hard again.

Later that day, after we fucked in the shower and again in the bed, we lie watching a fresh shower of snow move in under the cover of dusk. We’re lying in my new favorite position, with Scarlett curled into one side of me and Snow into the other, and I’m stroking their shoulders in the comfortable, snow-blanketed silence. Earlier we talked of many things—I told them about my ranch, inherited from a grandfather who didn’t give a shit if I lived or died but wanted his cattle and sheep to live on. They told me about their work in Austin, teaching restless artistic types art history. We danced around what would happen after they went back to Texas—even Snow seemed too shy to broach the subject, and she’s the bravest of us. And now that we’ve snuggled into this quiet moment, it seems harder than ever to speak about.

But I can’t bear not speaking of it. Not for another moment.

“You saved my life,” I finally say. “I would have died.”

Snow makes a noise like it hurts her to think of the possibility and burrows closer into my side.

“You saved me, and I want to give you more than sex,” I continue. “More than until Christmas. I want to be something to you both because you’re already something to me. Montana is a long way from Texas, but I’ve done harder things, and it will be worth giving you what I want to give you.”

“And what do you want to give us?” Scarlett asks.

I glance between the two angels cuddled naked and warm next to me, and then I sigh heavy and content, like a bear in truth.

“Everything,” I reply. “I want to give you everything.”

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I couldn’t see the man in the shadows. It was nothing but dark out here, and then there was the red flare of a cigarette to my left, and I stepped back. Embarrassed and shaking, I tripped over my shoes. “I didn’t think anyone was here. I’ll go—”

“Don’t,” he said.

“Don’t…what?”

“Don’t leave.” Just that. And I was getting bossed around plenty in the house behind me, but no one managed to do it so plainly. It was all dressed up in manners. I was wrapped in chains of politeness. I didn’t know what it said about my mental health, but I liked the fact that he didn’t ask. And he wasn’t polite.

This whole situation was fucking me up.

He didn’t step forward to introduce himself, and I stepped away from him keeping my name to myself, too.

“You were just about to do the fifty-yard dash in a ball gown,” he said.

“Not…really.”

“Then you weren’t about to scream, neither.”