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He took one of her hands and placed it on his knot while Rehan gripped her other.
“I do trust you,” Wiggles said.
Og grinned. “Then act like it.”
Before Wiggles responded, Og pressed his tip to her mouth. Her body relaxed, and this time, we clicked. I rolled my hips, redirecting Rehan’s powerful thrust into exactly what I needed. My dick slipped further into Jay. I went from overthinking to moving with my mates as if we had one mind.
Even our auras turned the same color, and hints of their emotions spilled into me. As my release built, I felt them build, sending me hurtling toward the finish line.
“Wiggles, love, baby,” Rehan’s babbling began.
“Feck,” I groaned. “I’m closer than I should be.”
“Me too,” Rehan managed to add to his mumbles.
“All at the same time,” Og reminded us.
Wiggles let out a pure moan she only made when she was getting close. Rehan picked up our pace, following her lead. I rolled her nipples between my fingers. Two little moans came out of her throat before her body tensed, and her aura flooded with the bright red and white of her orgasm.
“Now,” I growled. “Now, now, now, now.”
I came hard and fast. My mate bond flooded with endorphins and blinding pleasure from not just me but all of us. A sense of accomplishment settled onto my shoulders, unlike my usual lethargic mindlessness.
“Nice.” I released Wiggle's breasts and put my fists in a bumpable position. “That’s fecking teamwork.”
Jay’s hand released Og’s knot and thumped on the table.
No one bumped my fists.
“Jay!”
Og cupped her cheek.
“Jay.”
He shook her.
Wiggles didn’t respond. Her body felt like a dead weight against my chest. I wrapped her in my arms and sat up, holding her tight. Rehan and Lux backed away too fast, and with my spent dick still halfway in her ass, her remaining mate marks rose with a vengeance.
Cock first, agony wracked my body. Someone took Wiggle's limp body out of my arms before the pain became too much, I passed out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JAIYANA
Isat in a simple living room I recognized from my past. Blue couches accented the simple light and airy space, which looked nothing like Drukpa’s fortress. Photographs of Bradly Cooper and me together hung on the walls. He was a good-looking guy. A few inches shorter than me, he had a trim waist and broad shoulders. I knew he was pasty white, but his California tan and jet-black dyed hair made it hard to distinguish his ethnicity.
Until this moment, I never realized how much he was trying to make us look like a matching set.
A painting done by him hung above the fireplace. He was an artist. We met while he was in college, and I was pretending to be in college again because that’s what girls who looked my age did. Over the last twenty years, we’d traveled the world together. He called me his muse, though his paintings weren’t of people but the world around him. With my help, he’d made a fortune. He never needed to work again.
My gaze moved to the man next to me on the couch. Brad wasn’t that college kid anymore. His twenty years of tanning and expressive face left wrinkle lines and a few darker spots heshould probably get checked out by a doctor. The roots of his dye showed not only the blonde underneath but strips of white.
“Brad,” I said. “It’s time. You knew this was coming.”
Brad didn’t move or react.
I reached out and gripped his hand. “I’m immortal. I need to leave this area and start again.” I squeezed him. “I love you too much to let you join me. You will age, and I will not. And you will resent me for it. People are meant to grow old together, to die together. It’s what gives life meaning.”
