Page 22 of Beauty

I feel a strong hand at my wrist and the scene changes. I’mno longer in the palace, but some dark place where the marble at my feet isblack and the room is dominated by an enormous bed draped with curtains.

My Dark Ones stand by the bed. Twins. So alike I was notable to tell them apart at first, but then I assigned them numbers. One is therougher of the twins, though his hands are always gentle on my skin. Two has asweet smile and likes to talk dirty.

“Where are we?” I ask.

One’s brows rise. “We are where I want us to be. In ourhome. In our bed.”

Never answers. I’m accustomed. They’re dressed identically,in dark leather pants. Those clothes are unlike anything in Tír na nÓg. Theleather they make here doesn’t have the supple feel of the twins’ clothes.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” Two says with a long sigh. “ButI would love to see more of you.”

One’s eyes narrow. “I thought we explained this before. Youdon’t need garments around your men. You need only your own sweet skin.”

I cross my arms over my breasts. “You have no problem withpants, I see.”

One’s lips curve up in a wicked smile, his satisfaction apalpable thing. “A bratty mouth will bring you nothing but trouble,sweetheart.”

He uses that word often. Brat. I remember my cousincalling me a brat when we were young. He pulled my pigtails lightly and laughand call me brat. It’s a phrase from the Vampire plane to speak of sweetlydisobedient girls.

“I don’t see why I should be naked when the two of you areclothed.” I feel the smile on my face. My dreams are more and more sensual innature. In the last several years, since the dreams flared back to life, eachnight we go a bit further. It started with an embrace, their arms wrappingaround me when I realized they were once again with me. Those dreams werelittle flashes I couldn’t seem to hold on to no matter how hard I tried. Iclung to One and Two until they faded. Then gradually each became more solid,the dreams lasting longer.

That’s when the kissing began. What kisses they were. Long,slow kisses that seemed to last for hours. Only lips at first, and then Oneboldly traced my lips with his tongue.

One is suddenly in front of me, his eyes warm as though hecan read my thoughts. His hand comes up, tracing my lips as his tongue had.“You like kissing.”

“I like kissing you.” I go up on my tiptoes, leaning in tobrush my mouth against his.

He backs away, frowning. “Me? Who else do you kiss?”

I feel my eyes roll. Even in my dreams, men are difficult.“I’m twenty-seven years old. I have been caught by roving hands and held downfor unwanted kisses. There isn’t a peasant alive who hasn’t suffered worse thanme. I’ve had my guardian to protect me. Count yourself lucky that Gillian isn’tin my dreams, for you would find yourself unable to kiss me.”

“I think your guardian would show favor to our suit,” Twosays from behind.

I sigh. I love being surrounded by them. One moves back in,his hand cupping my cheek.

“I don’t want another’s hand on you,” he says, his eyesserious.

I begin to pull away because I’m not about to take that, noteven in a dream. “I am a virgin, but I’m not without the experience of a mannearly taking from me that which is mine to give. If it had happened, you wouldnot touch me. Leave me be. I’ll seek another dream.”

He pulls me close. “Stop, brat. I didn’t say that. I said Ididn’t want another’s hand on you. You’re ours. Our love, our heart. You can’texpect us to be happy with such a thing.” He tangles a hand in my hair. “I hatethat we are not able to protect you.”

I hate that they’re not real. I’m not stupid. They’re aprojection of my own needs. When I was a child, I needed companionship, and theDark Ones were there for me. Now, I need love and protection, and my soul criesout for a lover I can’t take. And my Dark Ones are here for me. They’re mydream and nightly refuge.

I sigh and relax, letting my hands slide on his muscularchest. His skin is warm and smooth, covering corded muscle. One is sooverwhelming. Two is softer. I need them both, but now I crave One’s dominance.My life is so out of control.

I want their touch.

“Kiss me,” I say.

One frowns down at me. “You sound like a royal when you saythat. Do you think you can order me around, Princess? Do you think I’m yourslave?”

Two kisses the back of my neck, causing me to shiver. Ican’t be sure, but I would almost swear I feel the lightest scrape of somethingsharp along my skin. “I damn well am her slave, brother.”

One reaches out and smacks his twin’s head. “Don’t give upmy game, brother. We both know who’s in charge, but when we’re bedding her,it’s going to be us in the lead.” He stares down at me, his deep, dark eyespulling all my focus. “Princess, we’re going to be your Masters in the bedroom.Do you understand what that means?”

“You want me to be a slave?” The term rankles.

“I want you to be the submissive partner, Princess. It’s theway relationships work where we come from. There’s a Dominant partner orpartners and a submissive. It means we’re to take care of you in all things.”