Page 28 of All Hallows Fate

“I love you,” he said, his voice like melted chocolate—rich and decadent and honeyed. “My cute little succulent.”

In the dream, in the memory, I shoved at his arm before I kissed him.

“The name’s gonna grow on you, one of these days.”

I groaned. “Grow on me? Was that a plant pun?”

Tor’s grin was swift and unapologetic, filling his whole face with wickedness. He was so handsome, so dear to me it hurt.

Something vast and painful hollowed my bones to create a home for itself, slashed my heart into ribbons so it could seep into every crack. Longing. Yearning. I missed him. Or rather, missed who I’d been when I knew him, even if I could only barely grasp the person that was.

Would I ever remember them, or would I just create new memories and pretend the black hole wasn’t there?

Miz whimpered in the forest, and I blinked until my eyes focused on the carnal scene across the small clearing. His head was thrown back, neck arched, and Tor’s teeth dimpled the flesh of his throat. Marking him in a way that made my beast vibrate with a possessive growl. She wanted to mark him, too. So did I. I wanted to leave the impression of my teeth in his neck so there could be no doubt that I was here, that I’d existed. Just in case I forgot everything again.

“Please,” Misery blurted, squirming as Tor’s fingers moved in and out of him, transforming the composed, glare-eyed man I’d ridden beside all day into a gasping, pleading creature.

“Hm.” Tor tilted his head, considering him. “What do you think, Cat? Should we let him come?” he asked with such soft severity that my heart skipped.

20

Cat

Before I could pretend to still be asleep, Tor glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze. His flashed, a little madness in those beautiful brown eyes.

I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “I didn’t mean to watch.”

“That’s not what I asked, beautiful,” Tor replied, not looking away from me even as he made Miz gasp and shudder. A deep, violent throb moved through me, the hypnotic sight of his fingers disappearing inside Miz making me crave the feeling, too. And Tor watched me as if he knew, as if that need was written all over my face, as if he could sense it.

“Yes,” I breathed, not daring to move from my place on the ground lest this whole moment collapse. “Let him come.”

Miz arched, his back a beautiful curve. “Thank you. Oh fuck, thank you. Please—please touch me.”

Tor raised an eyebrow at me, confident and smug and in total control. It sent a shiver through me that only intensified when he told me, “He’s not talking to me, little bride.”

My heart jumped. Hurled itself straight into my rib cage. Misery wanted me to touch him?

“Please,” he groaned. “Cat, please. I’m going to die.”

Tor snorted, his attention returning to the writhing man in the grass. “So dramatic. And need I remind you of all the times you refused to let Cat come until she was so tortured she couldn’t take any more?”

Misery only whined, but the words seized all my attention. Miz had done that with me? Teased and tortured? My body heated, pulsed, tightened, and I could almost feel it. Before I could second guess myself, I pushed off the ground and crawled towards them, towards my husbands.

“We’ve done this before,” I guessed, glancing up to meet Tor’s hungry stare. “The three of us, together.”

“Many times,” he confirmed, hooking me closer with a possessive hand to my waist and kissing me before I could speak again.

It was a kiss that slipped under my skin, reached every sensitive part of me, and set them on fire. By the time he drew back, only allowing a few millimetres between us, I was panting and dizzy. Then he kissed me again, and again, until I was drowning in him, until all my doubts and objections were replaced by fiery need.

“This is cruel,” Miz complained, so breathy and petulant that I smiled against Tor’s mouth, and he kissed me harder, tasting the shape of my smile. I grasped the rumpled collar of his shirt to drag him closer, ravenous for the taste of him, for how good it felt to kiss and be kissed by him. “Tor, can I—”

“No,” Tor growled against my lips, dragging his teeth over my bottom lip, scoring it with the sharp tips until I arched against him.

“Please,” Miz whined.

Tor dragged his mouth down my jaw, panting breaths teasing my skin, and I arched my neck to give him better access. My heavy-lidded stare fell on Miz, luminous in the hazy moonlight, flushed and needy.

“So beautiful,” I sighed before I could reel the words back in, and Miz’s eyes fluttered shut, pain tightening the lines of his face. A different pain than carnal need, I realised when his throat bobbed, teeth raking the plush shape of his bottom lip. “Can I kiss you, too?”