“Are you ready for me, Wyn?” he asks as he slowly slides inside me. His cock is drenched in my juices, but he still gives me time to adjust while Leith stays perfectly still.
Ghost buries himself to the hilt, and I feel so impossibly full. Like the times Ghost would fuck me with his cock and his wind, but oh so much better.
“Are you all right, baby?” Leith asks gently.
“Yes,” I whimper. “More. Please.”
My mates comply. They get into a smooth rhythm while a satisfied Xavi reaches up to flick my nipple with his thumb.
I clench around both cocks, and Xavi leans up to kiss me, swallowing my cries. Then he grabs another ice cube and latches onto my breast, lathing it with ice and fire.
“Do you want more, Wyn?” Ghost demands breathlessly.
“Oh, yes,” I cry. Wind takes the shape of another cock and slides into my mouth.
I close my lips around it and it stifles my cries. Which get louder and louder as each part of me catches fire. I feel so impossibly full. And so turned on I don’t know if I can take it. I need to come, so badly that I whimper and thrust my hips and quake with need.
I shatter. Coming hard and fast. Screaming around the ghost cock. While Xavi sucks in my nipples with icy fire and Leith and Ghost come inside me almost as one.
As we sag onto the bed and fall asleep in each other’s arms, the one thought on my mind is that these three perfect men are my mates. And that we’ll get to do this again. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. For the rest of our lives.
Chapter Nineteen
Xavi
The next day, I wake up thinking I’m the luckiest ice block on the planet. I’m also the only ice block on the planet—unless you count actual ice—but that’s beside the point.
I make love to Zoe, then stuff my face with takeout Leith orders, and decide that sharing a mate isn’t so bad. It’s not because of the food—okay, not just because of the food—or because we’re staying in a freaking mansion. It’s because this feels right.
I like having Leith and Ghost around. Feel comfortable hanging out with them. I haven’t done much socializing since moving to Silver Springs, so it’s nice to have an instant family with friends built in. But even if that wasn’t the case, what matters most is that Zoe’s happy. And just seeing my mate smile is enough for me.
When the sun sets, we head to her apartment so she can grab a change of clothes. Plus, make sure Snowball and Mini are fed. She throws some raw steaks at her pet, gives her roommate—who’s more of a squatter slash friend—a burger we pick up on the way, and we head for the door.
“Hey, wait up.” Mini pushes past me and blocks the doorway. Not as effective as ice blocking it, but she still does a decent job. “You’re not just leaving me here. Again!”
“There’s no containment spell keeping you in.” Zoe rolls her eyes. “You’re free to come and go.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Mini pouts. “I read your Screech DMs to Amber and Violet—”
“You read my DMs?” Zoe looks hell-bent on murder, and I don’t blame her. Her roommate clearly needs to learn some boundaries.
“I know your password, remember?” Mini rolls her eyes and unwraps her burger. “And if you’re going to catch this thief, I want to help.”
Which is how we end up detouring past the old, boarded-up bakery on Main Street to find Mini a mouse.
“I think I’ll call you Agent Sprinkles,” Mini tells the rodent, who she’s got nestled in her coat pocket. “What? I thought it was a nice name. But we can try something else. What about Agent Blaze? Rogue? Lightfoot? What about Agent Tiptoe?”
“Is she…” I pull Zoe into my side and struggle to find the right word. A few come to mind, like unstable or unhinged. Or, as Granddad used to say, ‘stark raving mad.’ I settle on “okay?”
“You mean is she crazy?” Zoe grins.
“Who are you calling crazy?” Mini spins around and holds her mouse out in front of us. “You don’t want to mess with Agent Tiptoe, Elite Spy Mouse and Finder of Thieves.”
Which doesn’t really do her any favors.
“You should see your face, Xavi,” Zoe snorts and wraps her arm around my waist. Then she explains that Mini can talk to animals like mice, but I barely pay attention.
The only thing on my mind is how much I love holding her close. Her hair smells like the fancy shampoo they’ve got at the inn mixed with something sweet and uniquely Zoe. And the way she smiles up at me makes me want to forget all about catching this thief. Because I’d much rather take her to bed.
“Wes restocked the van and it’s over at the lot, so I’m going that way.” Zoe plants a quick kiss on my lips. She steps back and Leith grabs her around the waist, lifts her, and kisses her, too. Then Ghost has his turn. And seeing how happy they make her—how happy all three of us make her—just feels right.
We part ways, and head toward Spell Library. The plan is for us to enter through the back door, hide, and catch the thief red-handed. Violet, the librarian, and her mate, who’s a cop, are supposed to meet us there. But when we enter the staff room, it’s pure and utter chaos.
Violet introduces us to all three of her mates, only one of whom is a cop. And then his partner—who doesn’t look a day over twenty-five—waves over two guys who stepped out of a renaissance fair. Then a gray-haired old lady, who the three of them crowd around and introduce as their mate.
And if all eight of them, plus us five—if we count Mini and her mouse—aren’t enough, Amber and all three of her guys squeeze in through the door to join us.
It takes forever to get everyone introduced, and then Liam, who seems to be in charge, claps his hands.
“Okay, everyone. Zoe should be pulling up in the van at nine. That gives us half an hour to get in position.” He looks around the crowd. “That being said, I’d like to emphasize, again, that you don’t all need to be here. Bert and I can handle this.”
I start to shake my head, but Leith speaks up on my behalf. And Ghost’s. “She’s our mate. We’re staying.”
Ghost and I nod.
“And you’re my mate,” Violet the librarian, tells Liam. “So I’m staying, too.”
“Well, Bert’s my mate,” the old lady, whose name is also Violet, chimes in. “So I’m also staying.”
“If our mate stays, we stay,” one of the renaissance men announces grandly, his accent thick and with hints of Brit mixed in.
“And I paid for the buffet,” another man—who’s Violet the librarian’s mate and the creator of Screech—points out. Not a buffet for our stakeout, but for the event the library hosted this afternoon. In other words, the bait.
“The guys and I donated the Mood Teas,” Amber calls out, “so we get to stay too.”
“Not like the thief’s going to steal tea,” Mini mutters under her breath, but just loudly enough to be heard.
“The tea was for the book club.” Amber shoots her a glare. “It’s called Mood Tea and Books for a reason.”
“If you say so.” Mini examines her fingers like she finds them completely fascinating. Since I know she’s a witch, maybe she does.