by Rhea Watson
“How does it feel, elskling?” I purred, plucking at her plump lower lip. “Tell me how it feels to take us both.”
She swatted my hand away with a thick, petulant whine, then folded over to hide her face in the crook of my neck.
“I hate you both,” Alecto mewled—another outright lie, her cunt slick with want, her skin covered in gooseflesh, her nipples so pearled they stabbed me through her bra and dress. Our chorus of teasing laughter only made her burrow deeper, but Gavriel clearly had no intention of letting her stay hidden. Smirking, the fae gently gathered her stick-straight hair, then looped it around his fist and yanked her upright.
Alecto reared back with wide eyes and a gasp, mouth hanging open, neck in the most sublime arch. She clenched around me again—around us both, given Gavriel’s eye twitch, his smirk faltering—and I feared it hurt her.
But… She seemed to enjoy the pain.
Alecto Corwin was a progressive, forthright, strong witch, who didn’t mind being dominated in the bedroom so long as it brought her pleasure.
And I—we—could work with that.
Teeth gritted, the muscles along Gavriel’s angular jaw flared with his first thrust. This one felt experimental, caressing my cock in kind through her body, but the next came harder—and harder, and harder. While I bucked a little, rocking up to keep rhythm with his pumps, I let him set the pace.
Too many cooks and all that.
Alecto’s eyes all but rolled back in her head, taken by us both, utterly filled—utterly consumed. Her hands scrambled for purchase, but mostly she floundered about, unsure where to hold, what to cling to, finger occasionally gritting into my shoulders as Gavriel’s pace upped to relentless.
I, meanwhile, zeroed in on her arm.
Snagged it, peeled back the cuffed sleeve. Exposed her flesh.
Took what was mine, the monster seizing control the second my fangs pierced the underside of her wrist. As piping hot ecstasy spilled into my mouth, like wine of the fucking gods, Alecto shrieked. And clenched. Savagely, her body cinched around Gavriel and me so that we both groaned and growled, pleasure blooming behind my eyelids, suddenly drunk on her and the delicious pressure building in my core.
Beyond a delicacy, her blood. Sweet with that tart aftertaste, I could talk about it forever, go on and on about the subtle nuances in flavor, about how spectacular it made this dead body feel—
“S-stop,” Gavriel choked, swatting halfheartedly at my arm, then my head. I opened my eyes to find him looking rather pained, and the fae flashed his own set of monster’s teeth when he gritted out, “Too tight.”
Right.
I’d made her come too hard.
How terrible.
With an impish grin that made my partner in crime glare, I slowly eased my fangs out of her, and Alecto slumped into my chest with a hapless moan, boneless, flushed, and spent.
“No, no,” Gavriel growled, hauling her back up by her hair with one hand and smacking her ass with the other. “We aren’t finished, fury. Don’t be selfish.”
As soon as the fae let loose, clapping his hand over her mouth to silence her squeals, I did the same. We needn’t coordinate to own her; Gavriel merely fucked her in earnest, as if satisfied she had gotten what she needed from this, and I followed his lead. Bucked my hips harder, faster, pistoning her cunt while he pounded her ass.
Good thing he had her mouth covered, because Alecto devolved into a banshee, those golden pools on fire, her cries primal and wild.
My climax went off like a land mine—sudden and abrupt, powerful enough to cut you off at the knees. Pleasure ripped through my insides, lightning in my veins, and I tensed, then slumped back against the stairs as I spilled myself inside of her. If I could, I would have toyed with her clit, but we were all too close, too tangled, too layered with clothing for that. Instead, I braced on the steps above and watched Gavriel ride her into the black, his head thrown back, eyes shut, mouth hanging open in bliss when he too came undone.
Alecto tightened around us once more, her body’s grip less potent than before but no less telling. Her final orgasm made her shiver, her muffled moans breathy and soft now, and when Gavriel released her hair and uncovered her mouth, she collapsed into me.
And I just held her. With Gavriel straightening up above, cautiously easing out of her, seeing to the mess below, I cuddled our witch to my chest and kissed the top of her head.
Feeling… wonderfully whole.
Even with stone cutting into my back and hips, eager to punish me for sullying this sacred, seldom-used stairwell.
Gavriel held our girl steady as I slowly withdrew my spent cock from her. By then, she had enough awareness to charm away the mess, the swish of her wand lazy, the cleansing spell muttered sleepily. Chasing his breath, the fae flopped beside me on the stairs, barely enough room for both of us to lie flat on our backs, then fiddled with Alecto’s unnaturally straight hair as she just spread-eagled over our bodies, a leg here, an arm there, their racing heartbeats music to my ears.
The dogpile lasted far longer than it should—far longer than luck would allow.
“Can we fucking go upstairs now?” Alecto demanded when somewhere in the tower, a door creaked open and slammed shut, making both their pulses jump after such a beautiful, cozy descent to calm. We men might have chuckled, but this time we honored her request, rising together, helping each other up, steadying our girl.
“I’ll meet you two up there,” Gavriel said gruffly before sauntering down the stairs and into the darkness. A moment later, yet another door swung shut, making the cobwebs hanging off the gas lamps rustle and Alecto frown.
“Come along,” I murmured, twining her fingers with mine and steering her in the opposite direction. “A shower calls, I think.”
Even with the cleaning spell, I knew she craved a hot, steaming shower after everything, ever the creature of habit. Alecto trailed after me to the fourth floor, moving slow, wincing here and there, the rough and dirty tumble obviously taking a toll.
So much so that when we returned to our flat, I gave her space to shower alone. We had already proven her theory correct: our shower-tub combo could, in fact, barely fit two people, but it was far more comfortable with just the one. I gave her first crack at it, changing out of my suit and standing by—naked—with a jumper and sweats hanging over my arm until she finished.
Until my little witch tiptoed out of the foggy bathroom, hair twirled up in a towel, another of her fluffy white pieces draped around her luscious figure. Her eyes dipped appreciatively to my still-half-hard cock in passing, but with the monster snoring away deep inside, I managed to only kiss her on the cheek, neck, and forehead, in rapid succession, before jumping into the shower myself.
After a hot scrub down, I strolled into the common area, a towel slung low around my waist, and found her watching TV.
Still mostly naked.
Her damp hair starting to curl again.
Her curves hidden beneath that towel and one of our blankets.
Just as she twisted around to peek over the back of the couch, all rosy and cozy and comfy, Gavriel burst through our front door, juggling multiple takeout bags—and a metallic thermos that he chucked my way without warning.
“They only had type O,” he said dryly, kicking the door shut behind him. I caught what I assumed was my post-fucking snack in one hand, touched that he even considered me when, judging by the smell, his venture into the kitchens was for Alecto.
Greasy, fried, salty goodness wafted through the flat—definitely for her.
“And you,” Gavriel rasped, tossing one of the brown takeout bags at her. Alecto barely caught it, fingers clumsy and coordination shot. “All curly fries this time, you fucking heathen.”
“Oh my gods, yes.” She propped the bag on the back of the couch and rooted through with one hand, flipping Gavriel off with the other. “Glad you paid attention.”
“Also, when did we all decide to get naked?” Scowling, the fae dropped—literally ju
st abandoned—the rest of the takeout bags, freeing up his hands to wrench off his black suit jacket.
“The burgers!” Alecto cried, pointing at the casualties frantically. “Gods, save the burgers!”
“Give me a second, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, tossing his tie aside and ripping his dress shirt open, buttons sprinkling the floorboards. Thermos in hand, I meandered over to the couch with an easy smile and a very full feeling in my chest, then squished into Alecto’s usual corner and tugged the blanket across me while they continued to bicker.
Rather smitten with our dynamic.
As I chugged some type O, the liquid too hot for my liking, like someone had nuked it in the microwave rather than gently simmering it on the stove, I wished it would never change.
That we could live like this forever.
But we weren’t out of the woods yet.
No amount of adorable squabbling or rough lovemaking could fix that. Yet as I watched Gavriel—down to his briefs—trudge over with all the takeout bags in hand, Alecto hastily clearing space on the coffee table for his haul, I knew I would protect them—this, us—to the very end.
That I would do all I could to bring Jack into the fold, because that would make her heart complete.
And that if anyone tried to take this found family away from me, either my soulmate, my brother, or our much-too-mature warlock fourth who would never deign to touch those greasy burgers with a ten-foot pole…
I would fucking kill them.
12
Jack
“I think I’d like to do a scene tonight.”
Chuckling under my breath, I closed the creaky flat door behind her, blotting out the noise downstairs. Honestly, a request like that from my submissive was music to my ears after all these weeks alone. “Oh, would you?”
While she sauntered in like she owned the place, Alecto peeled off her coat without any fanfare, then folded and set the thick black cotton on the kitchenette counter, followed by her purse. She then tiptoed back to me in a swishy floral-print dress, knee-length and cinched at the waist, all purples and dark blues with the odd splash of pink. Curls free, bouncy and glossy, she was a breath of fresh air.
“Yes, please, Sir.”
Gods, help me.
The last month had been a long and lonely one. Time moved slow in the legal world, and the Clemonte coven solicitors were still in the fact-finding stage of our appeal: tracking down character references from former staff and students, investigating why Gavriel’s librarians had walked under my leadership, drafting a massive dossier of precisely how my termination had gone against the code of conduct set down by the original high council of academies.
I had given them all I could.
Made my own notes and shipped them off.
And now… It was a waiting game.
A miserable solitude above a pub in a run-down, dark, tiny flat. Last weekend had been the hardest so far; finally recovered from my injuries, Ostara had come and gone—and I was locked outside of my academy. No sabbat speeches. No supper feast surrounded by smiling faces and delicious food.
Nothing.
According to my man on the inside, however, Ostara had been a tedious, dull, stuffy affair, the sort I attended in my youth at my father’s request. Gowns and pearls and gossamer, high council members and socialites and whoever else Iris could bribe to be in attendance and pad their numbers. The greatest crime of all? No students allowed.
I’d nearly punched a hole clean through these flimsy walls when I heard that, but resisted only because Seamus would then have to stitch me up here, tutting and frowning, disapproving of such a display.
I would have hated it, too, such an uncouth outburst in front of a warlock who respected me for my calm control, my dignity, a warlock who had been willing to risk his place at the academy to keep me in the loop—but it had felt warranted at the time.
What a disgusting disrespect for the student body—denying them the right to celebrate the spring equinox, locking them away in their towers with security who would happily beat them within an inch of their lives for a bit of cheeky lip.
Pathetic.
I needed to get back there.
And I needed to be patient—near impossible to do nearly a month on, April a couple of days out.
But now she was here, looking bright-eyed and well-rested, a far cry from the Alecto who had tentatively peeked around Bjorn all those weeks ago.
I had missed her.
Desperately.
Perhaps even more than I missed my school.
“No escort, little one?”
She had stood on the other side of my door alone tonight. I’d nearly fallen to my knees at the sight of her, beyond relieved for her familiar face through the peephole, in need of her scent, her laughter, her amber eyes gazing up at me with such trust—
“Gavriel didn’t want to come into the village,” she admitted with a one-shouldered shrug. “He walked me over but stayed out to smoke and, I dunno, ruminate at the stars.”
I smirked at the thought, drifting toward her slowly, letting her feel the weight of my presence after such a lengthy absence—letting her remember our dynamic.
“As Gavriel does,” I rumbled, the fae’s surly expression flashing across my mind’s eye, accompanied by a symphony of his huffs and groans, those silver eyes rolling skyward. Alecto’s dark brows shot up, and she tipped her head to the side, hands threaded behind her back.
“What do you know about Gavriel?”
“I know far more about my people than they think.” Sure, I had private personnel files memorized within the first month of a new academic year, but amongst my faculty, I played the observer. I seldom joined them for meals or parties, preferring to stay back so my presence didn’t interfere with their use of the castle’s spaces. After all, living with one’s headmaster came with its own set of challenges; I never desired to exacerbate them.
But loitering outside the group had always given me so much.
This little one loathed Gavriel some days and craved his attention on others. She was most physically at ease around Bjorn, but she lit up like the North Star when Root Rot’s head librarian strolled into the room.
And Gavriel was much the same. That fae might sneer down his nose at everyone else, but for Alecto, he became the wolf—focused, calculating, intense in the way he prowled after her.
Given he had escorted her to the village tonight, the wolf had finally taken a mate.
Good.
Alecto deserved happiness with him—with both of them, perhaps, just as those stubborn immortals needed a witch as grounded, blunt, and driven as my little one.
I was an anchor over here, and now more than ever, I risked dragging her down with me.
Still, Alecto Clarke had always been a lure to the animal in my chest, to the sadist in my heart. She had been irresistible from the start, and if I wasn’t careful, I could just break her in my need to… connect.
Gavriel might be the wolf, but in my exile, I had become the bear, big and burly—and so desperately alone.
Surface waters calm, I bided my time, waiting for her to swoop her hair behind her ears, a nervous tic that reared anytime the quiet grew heavy, my focus solely on her. As always, my little one didn’t disappoint, reaching for her hair with her right hand—which I caught by the wrist before she could tuck a single curl, then yanked her to me. Alecto stumbled forward with a shocked squeak, colliding hard with my chest, her hiking boots clomping over the floorboards. I whirled her around and crushed her back into my chest, then cuffed her by the throat and tipped her chin up. Pulse dancing beneath my fingers, Alecto released a shuddering breath as her lashes fluttered, seconds from closing—seconds from surrender.
“Tell me, little one,” I growled at her temple, lips barely brushing her heated skin with every word, “what kind of scene would you like?”
After all, she flew in here making demands; it only seemed fair that she attempted to set the tone before I destroyed her. But f
or once, she was such a good girl, arching into me with a moan, carefree and open.
“Sir’s choice,” she purred, stretching her curves taut, ass thrust back against me. Its slight wiggle had me smirking, something feral kicking off in my chest.
Not a good girl.
Just a brat in disguise.
Exactly as I wanted her.
All things considered, I would have been content to collapse on the couch, bundle her up in my lap, and smell her hair for the next hour. With everything going on, my life in tatters, my wants were simple. I’d always considered myself an island, capable of sustaining life without the outside world.
Yet this had been so… isolating.
And lonely.
At the end of the day, I had no one to blame but myself for feeling like this. After all, I could have stayed at my London home, near family and allies, yet something deep inside needed to be here, near the school—near her.
Self-preservation insisted I craved the Dom/sub connection, but as I hummed and hawed over my multitudes of torturous choices for tonight’s scene, hand locked tight around her delicate throat, her body fucking exquisite against mine, I knew that wasn’t the case. I’d always been rather adept at reading myself, even if I despised what was written, and never once had past submissives offered visceral relief at their presence.
It wasn’t until Alecto that I realized I’d just been treading water with playmates in the past.
That that was all they were—friends, acquaintances, partners in kink.
No real connection beyond that.
One glimpse at Alecto through the peephole tonight had felt like… home.
And that meant we were fucked.
So, we could play and nothing more. Make her come and send her on her way—back outside to Gavriel, to a man who could give her what she needed beyond kink, and then sit here, alone, missing her.
But knowing in my heart it was the right thing to do.
“Strip down,” I rasped in her ear. Determined to keep it simple, to regain control without giving too much of myself—and without taking too much from Alecto—I quickly decided on a brutal spanking and a massage, then that was that.