Page 35 of Dalla’s Royal Guards (Second Chance #3)

She nodded, smiling through the shimmer in her eyes, and pushed backwards into Musad. His fingers moved up to slide along her spine, he kissed her shoulder, gripped her hips, and angled the lower half of his body up until they were one.

He rocked slowly, his eyes focused on the magic she was making with her lips, his movements matching hers as she took Nasser deeper and deeper into her mouth. She released a long, low moan as both men’s shafts swelled. In this position, Musad filled her, stretching her vaginal channel.

Her low mewling cry warned both men that she wouldn’t last long. She slid her hand between Nasser’s legs, cupping his taut sack and massaging it. His loud curse was followed by the jerk of his hips.

Dalla swallowed as she came, her body tightening as Musad thrust into her before he stiffened, his body rigid as he released his hot seed into her womb.

She would never get used to this glorious afterglow, held and cherished by the two men that she loved.

She slowly slid her lips from around Nasser. Pressing her lips against his inner thigh, she kept her eyes closed as the aftershocks of their releases continued to pulse through her.

Nasser’s whispered words and his soothing touch promised eternity, wrapping around her and caressing her shattered soul.

Musad held her from behind, his mouth and hands worshipping every inch of her. Tears slipped down her cheeks as the waves of emotion she had been feeling overtook her—pleasure and love crashing together in something so raw and powerful, she thought it might break her.

She drew in a shuddering breath as she realized that instead of breaking… the threads of pain and disillusionment that had been fractured for centuries were being mended into hope.

She ran tiny kisses and small nips along the inside of Nasser’s thigh.

His hands gently cupped her cheeks, pulling her up onto her hands far enough that he could kiss her.

Musad was still locked to her, his cock twitching in the aftermath of his release.

He continued running his hands from her buttocks to her lower back and back again.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come again,” she moaned, her body clenching around him in renewed anticipation.

“I think I would like to see that,” he said.

She laughed faintly. “Insatiable!” she chided.

“Would you actually say no to me tasting you the way you tasted me?” Nasser asked softly with one eyebrow raised.

Dalla gasped at the sudden heat that filled her. “Well… I-I suppose not!”

Nasser grinned. “Musad will clean you with a cloth first, if you are both agreeable,” Nasser growled, his eyes glowing with a determined light.

Dalla hissed as Musad pulled free of her and slid off the bed. Her eyes widened when she realized this was actually going to happen. The wicked gleam in Nasser’s eyes sent shafts of pleasure through her already primed body. But there was something more that she wanted.

“Actually, I have changed my mind,” she said imperiously. “If you want your prize, you’ll have to earn it—in battle!”

She flashed her most bloodthirsty Viking grin—Nasser launched himself at her. In no time, he wrapped his hands around her wrists and twisted until she was lying on her back, looking up between his legs.

Her breath caught when she felt silk around her right ankle. Looking down, she released another long moan when Musad used the tie from his robe to secure her leg to the post of their bed.

She giggled, trying to stop him from doing the same to her other leg—but he was having none of it. Seconds later, she found herself spread out, her body offered for their feasting.

She lifted her hips when Musad began cleaning her—the soft cloth suddenly electric against her sensitive skin. Her breath hitched when he took his time and paid close attention to what he was doing.

And then Nasser slid between her spread thighs. She bowed up, trying to lift her legs. That was when Musad added to the experience by pulling out a delicate chain with twin clips.

“I-I—Oh, sweet Goddess,” she cried out as he attached them to her swollen nipples just as Nasser clamped down on her sensitive nub with a strong suck of his lips. “You will kill me with your loving.”

“No, jameela . We will show you what it is to live,” Musad promised, bending forward to kiss her.

Dalla’s body shook, all molten lava and lightning, and she came—again and again.

He is right. They are showing me how to live, she thought before her body shattered into a million beautiful pieces.

Dalla playfully slapped at Nasser’s hand when he rubbed his palm along her buttock. As he chuckled deviously, she shot him and Musad a warning scowl and then smiled at Hari, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth. Heat turned her cheeks a delicate pink.

She slowed when she noticed Hari wasn’t alone this morning. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Cianna. The young girl noticed her at the same time and jumped up from the table.

Dalla laughed when Cianna threw herself into her arms. She swung the little girl around before giving her a huge, tight hug. Cianna’s laughter lit up the room.

“You hug like Uncle Nasser!” Cianna exclaimed.

“I do, don’t I?” she teased. “He’s a good teacher.”

Cianna released her and stepped back, dancing in place with excitement.

“I’m gonna go help Cook make pudding. I love pudding. She lets me lick the spoon!” Cianna chirped before dashing off.

Dalla chuckled as Cianna skipped out of the dining room.

She paused to breathe in the delicious scent of baked honey bread, citrus tea, and cinnamon that filled the dining room.

Her cheeks flushed again when Nasser caught a strand of her hair and tucked it gently behind her ear before they’d taken two steps into the dining room.

“Will you two stop it? It’s bad enough that we are late,” she muttered.

Nasser whispered with a grin, “If you hadn’t complained about being famished?—”

Musad chuckled and finished, “—we would have been on time for lunch.

“You both promised me a tour of the kingdom, not just of the bedroom. Now behave!” she hissed, smiling back at Hari who was watching them with amusement.

“Ah, there you are. I was about to send a search party. Or at least a polite knock,” Hari teased.

Dalla felt her face warm again. She shot him a playful glare. “Good morning, Hari.”

“I see they are starving you again, Dalla,” Hari replied with a wink. “I thought you two were taking Dalla on a tour of the kingdom today,” Hari chided, giving Musad a pointed look.

“You must be Dalla,” a warm male voice said.

Turning, she found herself face to face with a handsome man whose blue eyes held gratitude and mischief in equal parts. He extended his hand.

“I’m Mario—Cianna’s father, and I suppose by law, your brother-in-law now.”

“And I’m Lissa, the brilliant sibling of the bunch,” Lissa greeted with a warm but tired smile. “Thank you. For saving our daughter.”

“Lissa, are you supposed to be up yet?” Nasser asked, stepping closer to give his sister a kiss on the cheek.

“I wanted to meet Dalla. Cianna has been talking nonstop about her. She wants to start taking archery lessons now,” Lissa replied, lifting her other cheek to Musad when he rounded the chair to give her a kiss.

Dalla grasped Mario’s hands before turning to do the same to Lissa. The sincerity in their expressions was humbling.

“Cianna is an amazing little girl. She is very brave.”

“Yes, she is. We’ve heard that you’re amazing, too,” Mario said, then leaned in with a wink.

Lissa elbowed him gently and turned to Dalla. “How are you settling in?”

“Honestly?” Dalla smiled. “I feel like I am finally home.”

She sank down next to Lissa and filled a plate, tilting her head back when Nasser brushed his hand across her shoulders as he moved to the end of the table where Musad had moved to sit with Hari and Mario. She could hear their discussion turn to current events in Kashir.

“The men in this family still try to shield me from what is happening,” Lissa murmured, her eyes haunted as she studied the fleeting expressions crossing Mario’s face.

“How are you healing?”

Lissa winced slightly as she adjusted the wheelchair she was sitting in. “Slowly. It’s going to take time.”

Dalla nodded with sympathy. “Such wounds are never fun,” she said before taking a sip of her tea.

Lissa blinked. “You’ve been shot before?”

“Several times,” Dalla replied. “I imagine modern bullets hurt just as much as the old ones. Fortunately, the medicine’s better now.

Less screaming and removing limbs. I think I feared that part the most. I did a fair bit of screaming during the Reign of Terror and the Great War.

Fighting changed after the invention of gunpowder.

I told that stupid Daoist alchemist he was mad to make something as dangerous as black powder.

He babbled on about it being the elixir of life.

He learned the hard way that it wasn’t after he blew a hole in the wall of the palace. ”

Lissa’s eyes widened, torn between disbelief and curiosity. “You told?—?”

Dalla took a bite of the blueberry muffin and moaned with pleasure. Her cheeks warmed when Nasser and Musad turned to look at her. She picked up the glass of juice the servant had poured and sipped it.

“Yes. I knew the last thing that Emperor Zhaozong should have is that blasted black powder. His reign was horrible. With such great internal strife and rebellion, it was only a matter of time before his dynasty fell. It didn’t help that he couldn’t control his generals or warlords in the region.

The entire region was imploding. When Zhu Quanzhong assassinated him and placed Ai as Emperor, I was ready to get out of there.

I should never have saved that alchemist life.

The world would have been a better place. ”

“But… I don’t understand,” Lissa murmured, her eyes focused on Dalla’s face.

Dalla smiled gently and continued, “Maybe if I hadn’t saved him, I wouldn’t have gotten shot saving Napoléon. That was a miserable time to be alive unless you were rich. I do love French food, though.”

She moaned again and waved a pastry in the air. “If I could have arrived either well before or well after Napoléon, life there would have been much better. Of course, it would have probably helped if I spoke the language better, too.“

Lissa choked on her drink. “You’re kidding.”

Dalla’s grin widened. “I wish I were. I was injured during the storming of a prison. Got caught between two factions arguing over what to do with a shipment of weapons. If I’d known Napoléon was going to be such an insufferable tyrant later, I wouldn’t have bothered pulling him out of that mess.”

Lissa blinked. “ Napoléon ? The Napoléon?”

“I’m not sure who the Napoléon is. The one I knew was a cocky man too smart for his own good who couldn’t hold his liquor.

We made a bet one night—he lost, of course—and owed me for the liquor.

Next thing I knew, I was dragging his sorry self out of an ambush.

Did you know that militaries around the world ended up studying his strategies?

I was shocked when I discovered that during the Great War.

Le Petit Capora had made history,” she mused with a shake of her head.

Lissa’s jaw dropped. “I… I wrote a paper on that. One of Napoléon’s early letters referenced a mysterious woman with a scar on her shoulder who saved his life outside Marseille. I always assumed it was embellished?—”

“Scar’s still there,” Dalla said, pulling her shirt to the side to show the round wound from a musket ball near her collarbone.

At the other end of the table, Musad glanced over just in time to catch Napoléon and shouldn’t have saved him . It wasn’t that he wanted her to lie about herself, exactly, but he couldn’t help wanting to save her from people’s reaction to the truth.

He nudged Nasser. “Time to go.”

“I agree,” Nasser murmured.

“I believe we promised you a tour,” Musad announced, pulling her out of her chair.

“Yes—a long, luxurious one,” Nasser added, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“But—but my breakfast,” she protested, glancing at her partially eaten muffin.

“You can take it with you,” Musad said, grabbing several muffins off the tray.

They were almost at the doorway leading out of the dining room when Lissa turned her wheelchair and called out to them.

“Dalla! Do you remember his full name? Your friend, Napoléon?”

“Bonaparte!” she called back. She laughed over her shoulder. “He used to tease me about mine, and I would tease him about his. We were the two B’s: Bonaparte and Bogadottir.”

She turned back just as Musad released a low curse while Nasser applied pressure to the small of her back and guided her out.

Behind them, Lissa sat frozen in her chair, staring at Mario, who stared back with equally wide eyes.

Hari sipped his tea, his smile amused and maddeningly serene.

“Well,” Hari said, “that was a delightful breakfast. Anyone care for cookies?”