It had always been real. He'd just been afraid to trust in it. Fuck. It was everything he'd ever wanted. More than he deserved, and only a stupid man would turn it down.
Dane Mitchell wasn't stupid.
"Eyes down, Alea. And spread your knees wider. Spine straight. For tonight, the only safe word you need is 'no.' Later we'll come up with a fun word so we can play all sorts of nasty games, but for now, a simple 'no' will suffice." Relief flowed through his body. He felt like a prisoner who had just been granted parole. Or a man who had received full forgiveness and learned that he'd never really sinned at all.
This was his woman. This was his family.
"Landon, I think we should warm our little sub up. She's been quite a brat lately. Actually I think she was born a brat, but we can handle that, can't we?" Dane heard his voice go deep, and it felt so fucking good. He pulled his shoulder holster off. His eyes strayed back, thinking about the door.
"We absolutely can handle her. And relax. We're perfectly safe here," Cooper said as though he could read Dane's thoughts. "The whole palace is in lockdown for the rest of the day. I believe Piper and the al Mussad boys are having a private meeting up in her rooms. Talib doesn't like to be interrupted. We have nothing to worry about."
Dane would always worry about her. He would always need to keep her safe, but there was a time to let that worry go and to revel in the love they made. He pulled his shirt off. "I need to order new leathers."
He wanted to take her to a club. He would take such pride in showing the world the woman he shared with the best men he knew. He imagined how beautiful she would be on a St. Andrews Cross, her trust for her men plain for the world to see.
"I think we all need to order some leathers because the thought of really topping her is doing something for me," Lan said. "I think the dungeon might be the only place where I can be in charge with her."
Alea frowned prettily. "Oh, it hasn't felt that way, Landon. You're always bossy with me. 'No, Alea. You can't have a moment to yourself. No, Alea, you're not going to the marketplace.'"
Dane stared down at her. "Every word that comes out of your mouth makes the orgasm trail that much longer."
She grinned, obviously misunderstanding.
Cooper snorted a little. "Honey, he means your orgasm is at the very end of a long trail, not that the trail is littered with orgasms."
The sweetest pout hit her lips. "I don't like the sound of that."
Still, she put her head down again, regaining her submissive pose.
"I think we all agree that in the real world, we'll let Alea have her say." Dane fixed his gaze on the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. "But here, we're the Doms. We're her princes and she's our princess."
She kept her head down, but there was no way to miss her slow smile. "You three are always my princes. And I'm ready to do your bidding."
Only one thing was holding him back. "Alea, what about our baby?"
He didn't want to wait nine months to claim his sub, but he would. He would wait forever because there was no other woman for him. He'd gone into his first marriage because it had seemed like it was time to marry. This was something different. This was worth waiting for. He'd made a mistake before because there was only one marriage that counted, and that was the one he fought for, bled for, and lived for. Their Alea. Their family.
"We've talked to the doctor, and he understands what is involved with a Bezakistani marriage," Alea explained. "Piper is farther along than I am, and her activities haven't been curtailed yet. So we're in the clear for now. Let's not waste any time. Love me. I want you all to love me. I need my men to come to me as the Dominants you are."
His cock twitched, begging him to jump at the offer. She was a smart woman. She knew her mind, and she damn well knew what she wanted. He dishonored her to think she didn't. She was his and she was ready. "Hands and knees, Alea. Did you think you could refuse to marry us and there wouldn't be some punishment?"
She moved, but not before he caught her smile. "I should have thought about that, Sir."
"Master," he corrected. God, he loved the way that word sounded. He'd never been anyone's Master. He'd only ever been a Sir. A Master was committed, devoted, forever. "You're about to marry me. I'm your Master. I won't ever have another submissive. You are the end-all, be-all of my existence as a Dom, so give me my due."
She shifted on the floor, moving forward and finding her position on her hands and knees, her hair hanging down around her.