Page 26 of A Storm of Fire and Ash

Fueled by the tension—and maybe too much honeyed ale—I stood and climbed onto the table.

A hush fell, then cheers erupted around the pub.

The music picked up as I started to sway, hips rolling to the beat, letting my body move with bold, defiant grace.

My hands roamed up and down my body, through my long hair, and I chugged the rest of my drink.

I was feeling good.

Bold.

Dangerous.

And I liked every fucking second of it.

“Gods, Elara,” Fintan called from the booth, somewhere between amused and flustered. “Tone it down.”

I looked down at him, wild and free, and laughed. I got down on all fours and crawled to him, licking my lips. His face now in front of mine, I placed my lips on his ear and bit him lightly as I said, “I don’t dim my soul anymore for people scared of the light.”

I stood again and continued my dancing. I knew my movements weren’t ladylike, but I didn’t give a shit. I’ve never had so many eyes on me before, but I was relishing in this.

The pub roared. Fintan stared, stunned for a heartbeat—and then his mouth curled in a slow, wicked grin.

And Makar?

He just leaned back and clapped slowly, eyes full of fire.

The cheers faded into a distant hum as Makar reached up to help me down from the table, his hands sliding to my waist with the sort of careful reverence that made the whole moment feel slower…

hotter. I expected him to grip and let go.

He didn’t. His fingers lingered, trailing just above my hips as he helped me onto his lap, his touch a whisper against my skin.

“Stars above,” he murmured, low enough only I could hear. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“Why should I?” I said, breathless, half-drunk on laughter, magic, and moonlight. “The world doesn’t.”

His smile turned roguish, but his eyes flicked past me—toward Fintan, whom I almost forgot was here. The prince stood with his arms folded, posture stiff, lips parted like he wasn’t sure whether to scold me or drag me out the door. His cheeks were flushed, but not from the ale.

“You’re blushing, Your Highness,” Makar said, clearly amused.

“I’m not,” Fintan muttered, jaw tight.

But I saw the way his eyes followed me. The fire in them. He was holding something back.

I tried to get off Makar’s lap, but his grip tightened on me.

Makar tilted his head, just slightly, the way he always did when he was nudging someone’s mind.

I felt the faintest ripple of it in the air—not quite a spell, more like…

suggestion. Influence. Like a breeze shifting someone’s direction without them realizing they’d moved.

Fintan took a step closer. Makar stood up, helping me to my feet.

He grinned, never removing his hands from my hips.

He pulled me closer so my chest was touching his.

Fintan then wrapped his arms around me from behind, hands sliding over my stomach just above Makar’s, and his mouth brushed against my neck.

My breath hitched as his lips found the spot just below my ear. A shiver danced down my spine.

Oh. My. Suns.

“Well,” Makar said, voice silky with implication. “Perhaps we should take this back to your room, Prince.”

Fintan didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

At this point, I didn’t even care if Fintan was being influenced by Makar. I just knew that I wanted them both. Needed them both.

I looked at Makar, “I love Fintan.”

He smiled. “Relax, I know you do. But you also need to extinguish that fire that has you wanting more.” Makar leaned in and kissed me.

I let him.

The kiss was short, but with his lips on mine and Fintan’s grasp on my waist, I felt like I was melting.

Makar pulled away and looked at me, and then looked at Fintan. “It’s just for fun. No feelings attached.”

The walk back through the castle halls was a blur of nervous laughter and charged glances.

Every brush of Makar’s fingers at the small of my back sent sparks through me.

Fintan’s hand never left mine, his thumb tracing circles into my palm as though trying to ground us both.

I could still feel Makar’s influence humming at the edge of Fintan’s mind—not controlling, not forceful…

just permission. Permission to feel what we all were too careful to name.

I didn’t need Makar’s influence, and he knew that. I kept my shield up the entire time.

When the door to Fintan’s chambers closed behind us, something shifted. The air was heavier. Thicker. Expectant.

I turned to face them both, heart hammering in my chest, and suddenly I wasn’t drunk—I was aware. Burning with heat and courage.

They watched me.

I reached behind me, found the clasp of my dress, and let it fall.

The fabric slipped to the floor in a whisper, pooling around my ankles like moonlight. I stood before them—bare, unhidden, unafraid.

The silence stretched.

Fintan’s eyes went wide, every breath he took loud in the quiet. Makar, however, looked like he’d just been handed the stars.

Neither moved.

But gods, I wanted them to.

Fintan moved first.

His eyes were locked on mine as he stepped closer, slow and reverent, as if he still wasn’t sure I was real. His hands came to rest at my waist, hesitant at first, then firm, as though anchoring himself. I felt the tremble in his fingertips as he leaned in and kissed me.

It was tender at first—sweet, uncertain. But as soon as I melted into him, something in him cracked open. His hands roamed up my spine, drawing me closer, his mouth claiming mine with growing hunger. I gasped against him, needing more, my body already burning from the heat rolling off him in waves.

Then I felt Makar at my back.

He was a whisper, a shadow, and flame, the heat of him brushing my bare skin. One of his hands slid up my arm, slow and deliberate, sending a ripple of goosebumps in his wake. “Careful,” he murmured against my neck, voice low and rich. “You might spoil her before I’ve had my turn.”

Fintan growled softly at that, not in protest—but in agreement. “No one comes inside of her but me, got it?” His sultry voice purred but was demanding all at once.

“Got it,” Makar smiled against my neck and then started kissing the sensitive skin. I arched into him.

They moved together like dancers who didn’t know they were choreographed.

I turned my head slightly, and Makar’s lips met mine.

His kiss was fire and mischief, deep and devouring in a way that made my knees weaken.

Where Fintan had been careful, Makar was chaos.

My fingers tangled in his dark red hair as he pressed against me, all heat and hunger.

My breath came in short gasps as I reached for them both, sliding my hands beneath their shirts, pushing fabric away.

Fintan’s skin was warm, tense with restraint.

Makar’s was smooth, electric, like every part of him vibrated with magic barely held in check.

I undressed them slowly, watching their faces as each layer came off, both of them caught between anticipation and reverence.

They didn’t touch each other.

Not yet.

Their focus was entirely on me.

They quickly removed their trousers, and my eyes went wide seeing them both in front of me, completely exposed.

“What’s the matter, love? Never seen two cocks at once before?” Makar quipped.

No. No I have not.

My mouth watered.

I didn’t even have words. Only feelings.

Makar was as beautiful naked as he was clothed. His cock was appealing—slightly bigger than Fintan’s.

Fintan’s lips returned to mine, his hands exploring with a mixture of hunger and awe, as if he didn’t know where to touch first. Makar trailed kisses down my spine, his fingers dancing along my sides like a sculptor learning every curve.

I felt worshipped. Not just touched—but seen, wanted, claimed.

We all went to the bed.

“Look at her,” Makar whispered to Fintan, his voice dripping with unfiltered desire. “She’s stardust in a storm.”

Fintan didn’t respond with words. Instead, he cupped my face with both hands, drawing me back into a kiss so deep and desperate it stole the breath from my lungs.

“Lay down,” I suddenly demanded, my attention toward Fintan. He did exactly that.

Makar knelt next to me on the bed. I started to pump Fintan’s hard length up and down, while I kissed Makar.

Needing more, I pulled away and knelt down, never taking my eyes off Fintan as I placed him in my mouth.

“Gods, Elara. That feels so good,” Fintan moaned, his head pushing into the pillows.

Makar moved behind me. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but just as quickly as I thought that, his mouth found my dripping center, and he licked me up and down. I moaned with Fintan in my mouth.

“You taste so delicious,” Makar said, his voice a deep decadence. He picked up his pace more, licking my sensitive bud and pushed his fingers inside of me.

Thank Fyrenth. This was the best damn thing that has ever happened to me.

Makar pulled away, but I kept my mouth bobbing up and down on Fintan. His strong hands pushing my head down to take him further.

Makar leaned in, “Let me have a taste of the prince,” he said. I pulled my mouth away as Makar dragged his tongue up the prince’s perfect cock. Fintan flinched with a slight hiss, but didn’t pull away.

“Join me,” he whispered.

My heart beating in my chest, I leaned down. My tongue traced the bulging veins of Fintan’s cock as Makar followed. Together, we licked the prince up and down.

Before I could even think, Fintan, with expert speed, grabbed me and placed me on his face.

“Ride me,” he said as his hands reached up and grabbed my breasts.

I sat myself on Fintan, and his mouth devoured me. I rocked my hips over his mouth, and my orgasm built. Makar wrapped his arms around my waist and started kissing my neck. He grabbed my chin and turned my face and kissed my mouth as I came on Fintan.

I broke away from our kiss, screaming Fintan’s name as I came undone.