Page 22 of Dragon Rivals of New York (Dragons of New York #3)

Chapter 22

Sora

A drianna leaves with the priest and priestess along with the others from the Silver Horde. The woman I recognize as Cyrus’s grandmother slowly stands from the couch and takes Damian’s arm for support. She doesn’t look old, but she seems frail. Considering that Cyrus and Midas are both well over a hundred, this woman must be much older than that.

She fixes me in her gaze. “Have you ever heard the metaphor of the dog and the cart?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Marcus Aurelius said ‘man is like a dog tied to a moving wagon. If the dog refuses to run along with the wagon, he’ll be dragged by it. Yet the choice remains his: to run or be dragged.’” With that, she shifts right there in the living room, with no concern for the dress she just ripped in two .

Damian gives me a sad look before following her out to the patio.

Left with just Jeslyn and her small family, the reality of our situation truly sinks in. My knees feel wobbly, and I’m trying not to cry, grateful for the support of the two men beside me.

“Are you okay?” Jeslyn asks.

I nod, then shake my head. Jethro kisses my temple. Kyro tightens his grip on my hip. I’m grateful for their support, but it still feels like there are chains wrapped around me, squeezing tighter and tighter, trapping me in a reality I never asked for. Like it or not, I'm tied to this cart, and I'm not sure yet whether I want to embrace what's happening or fight it.

“You’ll be fine.” Midas stands. I can’t tell if he’s just that confident that I’ll be happy with Jethro and Kyro, or if he’s commanding it to be so with just his words.

“We should go,” Kyro says, guiding me to the door.

In a daze, I walk across the hall to Jethro’s place. This week has flipped my life on its head multiple times, and after today’s most recent revelation, I feel disconnected from reality. Like this is all a dream, and I can’t tell if it’s a good one or a nightmare.

Even after only a few days with Jethro and Kyro, I know they’ll be good mates, good husbands and fathers. But I feel, once again, as if I’m being backed into a corner, as if my choices are being controlled by some deity who says I can or can’t do something.

Jethro guides me to sit down on the couch in his living room.

“If you don’t want this, we can help you run,” Jethro says, sitting beside me and taking my hands in his. “You just have to hide for the week and then the option won’t be available anymore.” He looks pained to say it, but I know his offer is serious. He’ll help me if I decide to get out of this. But what will happen to him and his horde if I do?

Kyro sits down in front of me on the wide coffee table. He cups the side of my face, and I lean into the touch.

“There are lots of things in life we don’t get to choose. Where we’re born. Our families. Our upbringing. Who we’re mated to.” His thumb caresses my lips. “But I would choose you every time.”

I sigh at his words, wishing I could return them. There’s no one else I’d rather be mated to—well, except maybe Jethro—but not choosing anyone else is different from choosing them. And having the choice taken away from me makes me want to rebel against it.

Even though I know I can’t. I would never allow the hordes to suffer because of me. But for just a minute, I need to wallow in the unfairness of it .

“We hate that you’re being forced into choosing us,” Jethro says, glancing at Kyro as if verifying that he feels the same. It’s clear he does. “But I promise we’ll never control or manipulate you the way your ex husband did.”

“I’ll beat Jethro to a pulp if he tries to,” Kyro says, letting the hand that was cupping my face drag down to squeeze my shoulder.

“Like you could beat me up.” Jethro laughs.

“I’d have you on the floor before you lifted a finger.”

A watery laugh eeks out of me, shifting the mood and distracting me with a new train of thought. Who would win in a fight? They’re both massive. Kyro’s got a bit more bulk on him than Jethro, but Jethro’s all muscle. I picture them wrestling. Bodies twisted together. Muscles flexing. Clothes being ripped and pulled off.

My skin heats. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to hide the evidence of how aroused I am.

Two sets of eyes bore into me.

“Does our sweet girl like the idea of her men fighting?” Jethro asks.

Changing the subject. “It’s not just me being forced into this. You two also have to… share. From what I understand, mates do n’t do well being separated. We’d have to live together. And you two… well, you don’t exactly like each other. I’m pretty sure Kyro outright hates you. I don’t think I can live with two men who are fighting all the time.”

“I don’t hate him,” Kyro says.

Jethro lifts his brows and drops his chin as if to say, ‘really? ’

“Okay, fine, I hated you. But now, we’re… fine.” He says the last word through closed teeth.

“Would it help if I let you punch me?” Jethro’s face is serious, his voice lacking his normal teasing quality.

“Maybe.” Kyro’s grin is positively wicked. “A few good punches might help clear the air.”

The challenge lacks the hostility it would have had a few days ago. But there’s still an edge to it.

I was pretty out of it during their fight at The Black Wing, but it's clear something's shifted between them.

Jethro stands up and walks around the coffee table to an open space in the living room, which isn’t difficult to find since the whole place is designed with enough space for a dragon to comfortably walk around. He holds his hand out to Kyro, palm up, and crooks his fingers twice in a ‘ come here ’ motion.

Kyro answers the invitation, strutting over to Jethro with a gleam in his eyes.

I twist my hands in my lap. The image of the two of them wrestling is replaced with one of Kyro beating Jethro to a bloody pulp. Much less appealing. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Kyro slowly rolls up his sleeves. “We’ll settle this the old-fashioned way. Then we’ll move on.”

“It’s okay, lovely,” Jethro says. “I’ll be—”

Kyro punches him straight in the face. I’m on my feet, rushing forward. Blood pours from Jethro’s nose, but he doesn’t raise his arms to defend himself. Jethro holds out his hands, telling me to stay back. Kyro lands another punch. This one to Jethro’s gut. Jethro curls over, but still makes no effort to fight back.

I throw myself between them. “Are you okay?”

Jethro lifts me by the shoulders and sets me to the side.

“Again,” he says to Kyro.

Kyro closes his eyes, inhales, strikes. The hit lands on Jethro’s cheek, twisting his head to the side.

“Enough!” I yell, tears falling down my cheeks.

They both ignore me .

“Again.” Jethro spits blood.

Kyro hits him. Once. Twice. A third time.

I hug my arms around my waist. “Stop,” I whisper.

It breaks my heart to see Jethro hurt like this, to see Kyro hurting him.

A fourth blow, and then Kyro grabs Jethro’s shirt collar, tugs him close, and kisses him passionately, like he’s been thinking about it for a long time.

What the…?

Jethro throws his arms around Kyro’s neck and kisses him back. It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s aggressive and hungry. Teeth and tongues and fighting for dominance.

I don’t understand the feelings swirling through my chest. But I’m surprised that there’s not a drop of jealousy. I hate when anyone other than me touches either of them. I want to bite anyone who looks at either of them the wrong way. But seeing them together, yeah, I’m more than okay with this.

I don’t know how they got from punching to this—I’ll never understand men—but kissing is good. I need them to get along if this is going to work. And it seems like they’re getting along just fine right now.

When they break for air, Jethro says, “Better? ”

“Yeah.” Kyro gives him a breathless smile and wipes some blood from the side of Jethro’s mouth with his thumb. “Much better. You?”

“Oh hell, yeah.”

“Can someone explain to me what just happened?”

“I killed someone he loved, so he beat me up.” Jethro shrugs.

“And the kissing?”

Kyro looks almost sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Seemed like a good idea if we’re all going to be together.”

Maybe it really is a good idea. I mean, this could take some pressure off of me once we’re mated. I might not be able to control whether we mate, but if they can satisfy some needs with each other, maybe I won’t feel solely responsible for meeting their needs myself. Wait, ugh, I’m not responsible for meeting their needs. Whether they have each other or not. But… this seems good.

“Oh, it’s a very good idea.” Jethro slings his arm over Kyro’s shoulder, and they both turn their full attention on me. “Now that I know Kyro isn’t opposed to getting close, there’s so much more we can do to you.”

My skin tightens everywhere, heat pooling between my legs. “Like what? ”

Jethro licks up Kyro’s neck to his ear, whispering something I can’t hear. Flames burn in Kyro’s dilated pupils as he listens to whatever Jethro is suggesting. His eyes lock with mine. I'm caught by their intense interest, small prey in the grip of two powerful predators. But I don't feel trapped. I feel powerful. Wanted.

He licks his lips.

They move so fast I barely realize what’s happening before my knees hit the couch cushions and the back of the couch is digging into my belly, body pressed upside down, hair hanging to the floor. Jethro is on the couch behind me, flipping up my skirt, ripping my tights, and pushing my thong to the side.

He traces my dripping core with one finger, finding that most sensitive spot that makes me squirm. I arch and press my palms into the back of the couch to lift myself up enough to search for Kyro.

He’s there, looking at me. The zip of leather echos through the room as he yanks his belt from his belt loops with one hand. He takes my wrists and pulls them behind my back, so I’m forced to dangle upside down, face to the back of the couch. Using his belt, he secures my hands together.

Blood rushes to my head as Jethro works my clit. I try to use my abs to push up, but Kyro is standing too close and my head just hits his legs. He kicks off his shoes, then his pants and boxers fall to his ankles.

I whimper, knowing his naked cock is just above me, but unable to see it in this position. Jethro’s finger slips inside me, thumb stroking my clit as Kyro tangles his hand in my hair.

“Y-yes,” I moan.

“That’s it, Ara’ha,” Kyro says, wrapping my hair around his fist. “Come for your mates, and then we’ll show you what we really have planned for you. Give her another finger, Jeth.”

My body tenses. Jethro slips a second finger inside me, then a third. Hanging like this, my breasts brush against the couch with each sway of my body, nipples straining against the rough scratch of my lace bra. Kyro’s cock presses into my back as Jethro finger-fucks me from behind. I know they’re kissing somewhere above me, but I can’t see it. I can only hear their panting gasps and the wet smack of lips.

While Jethro keeps up his pace, thick fingers grab hold of my tights, on either side of the small hole Jethro made, and rip them wide open.

“You may look like an innocent little teacher, but we know what you really want.” Kyro’s calloused hands smooth over my ass and down my inner thighs, spreading them. Jethro draws out his fingers and brings the heel of his hand to my clit. One forefinger from each of Kyro’s hands pushes inside me, applying a little pressure on my outer edges, stretching me wide.

“One cock isn’t enough for you, is it?” he says. “You need two cocks filling this pretty pussy.” He chuckles. “You should see how you just gushed all over me. Such a greedy little thing.” He adds a second finger from each hand. “The goddess knew what she was doing when she gave you both of us. You would never have been satisfied with one.” Three fingers from each hand press the walls of my entrance, massaging my insides in a way that has me wiggling against the couch.

“We’re gonna satisfy every craving you’ve ever had, and some you didn’t even know about,” Jethro says, grinding against my clit with his palm. I cry out as Kyro applies more pressure, stretching me like he’s pulling me apart.

“Now,” he says, pulling out his fingers and running his slick hand up my back under my shirt.

I feel so empty, but only for a moment. As Kyro stands up straight, and starts rubbing circles on my back, Jethro presses his fingers inside me. They spread, splitting me open. Is that three fingers? Four? Wait, is that his thumb, too?

“Relax, baby,” Kyro says. I breathe through the slight burn as Jethro continues to stretch me, knuckles rubbing against all the right places. He presses in deeper, and… did he just?

“That’s it, lovely. Take my fist. Just like that. ”

“Your f-fist?!” Shit. I’m stretched so full, every inner part of me touched and stroked as he makes small thorough movements. This is yet another thing I didn’t know was possible, and fuck, it feels good. So. Damn. Good.

I gasp and come.

Jethro curses as I clench around him.

“Come on your mate's fist. Just like that.” Kyro spreads my butt cheeks like he’s trying to get a better view.

I’m still fluttering as Jethro pulls out his fist and slides his thick cock inside me. He tugs the belt around my hands to hoist me. Kyro helps by lifting my shoulders. My head spins from the blood rush and even more from the kiss Kyro gives me. Jethro glides lazily in and out of me a few times before pulling me down onto the couch on top of him.

My back is to his chest, his cock still inside me. He’s completely naked, though I’m still fully dressed apart from my ripped tights. Even my panties are still on, though they're pushed to the side and absolutely ruined because they're so soaked.

“Such a pretty picture,” Kyro says. He climbs over the back of the couch and hovers above me. He’s naked too. Fisting his cock, he slides his hand up and down a few times before lining himself up with my entrance.

He drags his tip back and forth over my clit until I’m arching my back and begging for more. Despite how thoroughly they stretched me out, there’s a slight pressure when he pushes inside me right alongside Jethro. Neither of them are small men.

Jethro’s hands find my breasts, kneading them through my blouse as Kyro starts to move, rocking into me, moving against Jethro’s length.

“Yeah, big guy, that’s it,” Jethro groans, his breath warming my cheek.

I grab Kyro’s ass and hold him closer, right where I want him, pelvis rolling against my clit. Skin slick with sweat, body glowing with heat, all of us connected, my toes curl and my belly tightens. I’m so full. Sandwiched between my two naked men, still wearing my work clothes—even my high heels. Fuck, this is hot.

Our breaths mingle. Two cocks move as one inside me, rubbing against each other, rubbing against me. They’re gonna come inside me together, mixing as they fill me so fucking full. Claiming me. Claiming each other.

“Yes!” I cry out. “Yes, yes yes yes! I’m gonna—aaaahhhh!”

My orgasm hits me like a punch in the gut. My eyes roll back. I tense, curling up, bitting Kyro’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Kyro cries at the same time as Jethro makes an unintelligible noise of pleasure. I squeeze them together, and they swell and twitch and explode. It feels like it goes on forever.

And I want it to.

Even if we weren’t being forced into the pools, I realize with a shock that I want this with them. More than I've ever wanted anything.

I still have so many questions about how this will work, and there's still so much uncertainty, but I want this. I won't be dragged with the cart. I'll run head first into this future, and I'll do it gladly, because it'll be with these men at my side.

When the waves of pleasure subside, and we all relax, collapsing into each other, I whisper, “I’m ready.”