by Rhea Watson
This place always took my breath away.
And that was when one of them got me—always. This time it was Fintan barreling into his bedroom after me, his breath hot on my neck as he hooked his arm around my waist and yanked me flush against him. After nibbling at my shoulder, hands wandering my body possessively, he retreated just enough to grab the back of my dress and rip it right down the middle. I pouted at the protests of the fabric, the designer’s meticulous work ruined by a horny prince.
Silvery-white silk and lace and sequined tulle gathered at my feet, the rest of me totally naked; it drove all three of them wild knowing I went to these court events without panties or a bra. Sometimes we left early for that reason alone.
My nipples pebbled at the onslaught of chilly night air, trembling with every ragged breath, and I shot onto my tiptoes with a giggle when Fintan cuffed the back of my neck and hoisted me up just a little. Held me in place. Made me wait for the others to arrive. And when they did, Elijah and Rafe sauntered in like they had all the time in the world, eyeing my nudity with fiery interest. While Elijah drifted toward the fireplace, drawn to the magic fae flames like a moth to a—well, you know—Rafe lingered, golden fangs still tinged red as he flashed a grin and let out a delicious chuckle when he tweaked my nipple.
Fintan, meanwhile, let his free hand rove unchecked, smoothing over my hips, my ass, my breasts, before eventually delving between my thighs, a finger thrust through my slick folds. He greeted the wetness with a satisfied huff against my throat.
“She’s positively dripping,” he announced, teasing me with his lips and teeth, that talented tongue sweeping the curve of my earlobe, and Rafe shook his head with a sharper, more biting laugh that made my toes curl.
“When isn’t she?”
Fintan’s amusement dripped across my skin like lava, hot and all-consuming, and he dragged me back into him, cock rigid and sharply insistent against my bare ass. While Rafe meandered over to his usual armchair—the center piece directly in front of the hearth, throwing caution to the wind as a vampire drifting so close to the flames—Elijah settled in the largest seat of them all, the grand black pleated chair to the left, foreboding and regal and woefully out of place amongst Fintan’s light décor. A throne for a king—for an alpha. A conquering dragon.
Tipsy on fae wine and these three, I reached back to stroke Fintan over his pants, smoothing my hand up and down his rigid length, wondering if I focused on the head, then he might abandon whatever he had in mind and just take me right here and now. Instead, the fae prince thrust me out at an arm’s length, tsking at my efforts, then steered me toward the trio of highbacked chairs. Plum flames warmed my calves as I rounded in front of the seats, the silent audience, thrones upon which my kings sat and watched me touch myself just a few nights back. I stumbled a little over the black bear rug underfoot, but my knees were grateful for it when Fintan pushed me down.
“You know what to do, dearest darling,” he rumbled in my ear, his hand creeping down my bare back, tracing my spine, then smacking me hard on the ass to spur me onto all fours. I complied, body on fire with three sets of eyes watching me intently, hungrily, these dominant lovers who always had their way with me—but in the end, were under my thrall. There was such power in submission, in surrender. Over the last two weeks, I had explored that for the first time in my life, willingly giving over my control to men who adored me—who would never hurt me.
Not unless I begged for it.
Crawling on my hands and knees, lower back arched to thrust my ass into the air, I crept toward Elijah and freed his swollen cock from his trousers. Even with the wine driving me, making me feel light as air and free as a bird, I tackled the buttons and the zippers and the delicious black briefs that clung to his huge thighs with ease. He stood tall and proud before me, his cock largest of the three and a bit more intimidating, but I dragged my tongue its full length all the same, circling the silken tip before plunging it into my mouth. The dragon inhaled sharply, hands gritting into the armrests, his whole body stiffening ever so slightly—a subtle reaction shared between the two of us, lost on Rafe and Fintan.
A weakness that I adored.
A reminder that even though I was naked and they were fully clothed, me on my knees and them seated, I had all the power here.
Intoxicating, that kind of control.
Freeing, too, the surrender I gave to them willingly. Happily.
As I bobbed up and down on his shaft, only able to take about half in my mouth before I gagged and coughed and choked on him, Fintan nudged my knees apart with no more than a fingertip against my skin. At first I thought he had done it for me, to help me stabilize, but seconds later his mouth brushed my inner thighs—then his tongue swept through my folds and swirled around my clit. A throb of pleasure had me moaning, even with my mouth full, and both Fintan and Elijah groaned in response. While the dragon’s huge hand threaded into my hair, guiding me up and down, setting a hurried pace, Fintan’s hands bruised into my ass as he consumed me like a parched man drinking at an oasis.
Of the three, he was the best with his mouth.
Rafe could make me come in seconds.
Elijah consumed me, mind, body, and soul anytime we touched.
Together, they made the perfect lover—unmatched by any the world had ever seen.
How had I ended up so lucky?
Maybe it was karma for Xargi—for suffering in a cell, for a psychopath picking off my family. I had endured horrors behind bars, but now? Paradise. Even a normal life with these three, just going about our daily existence in the most banal circumstances, sounded like nirvana.
Elijah watched me with an unrelenting gaze, irises a fiery gold while his pupils turned to slits, his inner dragon just as infatuated with our intimacy as the man. I fluttered my lashes up at him, totally smitten with the way he stared during sex, so possessive and powerful, an alpha who knew exactly what he wanted that it was impossible to resist him when he turned that all-consuming gaze on me. I held it for as long as I could, rising up and down, swirling around the head of his shaft and flicking my tongue in all the ways I had learned made him twitch, only I lost it when Fintan homed in on my clit—when he got technical between my thighs.
Because even though I knew how to drive these three men crazy, what to do when we were alone and naked to turn them savage, each one knew how to play me too. In fact, I was convinced they shared notes at this point. In their own ways, Rafe, Fintan, and Elijah were slowly becoming experts at tearing me apart and putting me back together again.
And I loved them for it.
Although, my least favorite thing was edging—which Fintan was especially good at and took great pleasure in torturing me with whenever he had the chance. On the cusp of another climax, every muscle tensed, my blowjob technique gone to shit, the fae stopped that thing he was doing with his tongue. Just. Disappeared from between my thighs, leaving me hanging on the edge with a patronizing chuckle that echoed between all three of them.
“Such a greedy creature, isn’t she?” he mused, slowly reclining back on the bearskin rug, wings splayed wide, and I glowered at him over my shoulder. He shot me a smirk and a wink, then undid his trousers and eased his shaft out, rigid with desire and glistening at the tip. “You want to come? Do it yourself, little witch.”
“Fuck you,” I fired back, only to let out an indignant squeal-giggle when he lunged forward, spurred by fae speed that I could never match, and snatched me by the hips. He yanked me back and pierced me with a single brutal, glorious thrust, filling me to the hilt. Ever the showman, Fintan kept my back to him so that the others could watch me bounce—something they had recently admitted to, each one surprisingly into watching another man screw his girl—and I took a fleeting moment to adjust to the position. Braced on his thighs, I folded my legs so that I could steer the ship, set the pace, rock to my own rhythm.
But then suddenly there was Rafe, materializing in front of me, his speed surpassing anyone in this court. I gaspe
d, heart in my throat, then opened my lips obligingly when he presented his cock—nudged it against my cheek, smeared his arousal along my lower lip before plunging into my mouth. Eyes wide, I sat up straighter to properly take him, completely distracted despite the fact Fintan continued to stretch me, dominate me. The fae dragged a teasing hand along my back, raking his nails softly over my skin. The pair offered me just a few moments to adjust, and then, like they shared some warped telepathic connection that I wasn’t included in, Fintan bucked his hips up hard just as Rafe grabbed hold of my face and thrust.
I had never been all that adventurous in the bedroom before them. Kink seemed tiring and overwhelming, but now, I couldn’t imagine going back to just one man having his way with me. Even if only one of my guys had his hands on me, his teeth on me, his body utterly consuming mine, at least one other was watching—or demanded details after, getting all riled up himself before pouncing.
Who knew I had a secret dark streak? That vanilla just wouldn’t cut it anymore—not ever, ever again?
Of the three, Rafe was usually the roughest. He fucked the hardest, no matter the hole, and tonight was no different. While Fintan rocked me back and forth, occasionally arching up to hit that amazing spot inside me or reaching around to fiddle with my clit, Rafe—my sweet, empathetic, brooding vampire—twined his hands into my hair and used my mouth with wild abandon. Never mind the drool dribbling over my chin, the tears swelling in my eyes. He stared down at me, all serious and masterful, and had his way with me with almost no regard for my comfort.
When I choked or gagged, he grinned.
When Fintan spanked me, he chuckled.
Only when the fae’s pace quickened, his breath catching and his grip bruising, did the vampire ease back. He retreated with a sigh, allowing me to draw a full breath for the first time in an eternity, and watched unflinchingly as Fintan pounded into me. Made me bounce. Elijah even shoved him out of the way, probably sick of staring at his friend’s back, and both stroked themselves as Fintan claimed me for his own pleasure.
Mine, meanwhile, was on the brink of detonating again, wet and swollen between my thighs, my clit aching for someone’s mouth, anyone’s fingers. But when Fintan stiffened and growled, spilling himself inside me, marking me up with his fingertips—temporary, unlike Elijah’s mark on my shoulder and Rafe’s bite on my neck—I wasn’t allowed to come.
Again.
Ugh.
Just as I slipped my fingers between my folds and gently pinched at my clit, Rafe grabbed my arm and hauled me off the fae. Dragged me to his usual chair in front of the roaring fire and bent me over the armrest.
Up on my toes, ass in the air, I planted my hands on the rigid cushion and stilled when Rafe’s fingers whispered up the backs of my thighs. A moment of gentleness promised a thorough ravishing, and I closed my eyes, savoring the sweet caress before yelping when he took me hard by the hips and shoved into me. Claimed me. Made me his in front of the others. Lashes fluttering, I pushed up so they could watch every part of me—Fintan sprawled on the rug, head pillowed on his folded arms, hazy with post-orgasm bliss; Elijah on his chair, stroking himself faster, his eyes bright and beastly.
A familiar hand wove into my hair. Tugged me back. Added an arch to my neck that always drove the vampire pounding into me nuts. His hips quickened, his pace brutal, the slap of skin to skin ringing out in a bedroom accustomed to the symphony of moans and squeals and wet. No more orgies though—not unless it was the four of us. Fintan had barely even glanced at any of the gorgeous fae men and women of the Midnight Court since we arrived. Rarely accepted a drink from them. Ignored all invites for a secluded catch-up somewhere on the grounds.
Briefly, I’d been afraid that I wasn’t enough—that we weren’t enough for a prince accustomed to lavish luxury. But from the way he watched Rafe and me now, eyes shimmering with need, his cock already at half-mast again, we were more than enough.
This was precisely where he wanted to be, same as me and the others.
Taking me from behind, Rafe became the savage lover who wore the mask of a quiet writer everywhere else. In here, he fucked hard and fast, making every bit of me wobble, making my eyes roll back in my head as fiery pleasure seared through me, my muscles tensing, an implosion imminent—
And then he fucking stopped. With a strangled snarl, he spilled himself inside of me, same as Fintan, and immediately withdrew. My head drooped forward, and I let out a frustrated moan that had the trio chuckling again—apparently tonight was the night to edge Katja, because usually by now I’d have had at least three climaxes and would be begging for a break before the next one. Ugh.
“Oh, darling, are you disappointed?” Rafe teased, his hand finding my hair again before hauling me off the armchair. My sweaty back met his clothed chest, my legs weak and on the verge of collapse as I stumbled into him. He dragged his fangs up the column of my throat just as Elijah stood, and the vampire licked at the blood still smeared from his previous bite. “What happens if none of us let you come?”
“Then I’ll make myself come,” I managed, eyes locked on Elijah as he crossed toward us, towering over everyone, his aura engulfing the massive room.
“Is that so?” Rafe whispered. Then, without warning, he hoisted me up, one arm hooked around my waist as his free hand bared my neck to him again, then buried his golden fangs in my throat. Pleasure exploded with the intensity of the sun, and vaguely, I heard my own mottled scream of relief. It vanished immediately when he withdrew, my body buzzing and desperate for more, wet heat slicking down my neck to my chest.
Spurred by the savagery, Elijah didn’t take his time. He scooped me up, hands bruising my thighs, and sunk into me with a single thrust. Stretched by him and dangling precariously between two men who I loved with all my heart, I came undone. That alone was enough to tip my tormented body into the black, and I came with a breathy cry, abdominals tensed and eyes clenched shut. The climax sapped any fight from me, tangled my tongue and jumbled my words. Elijah watched it all with a gritted jaw, the muscles dancing just as my pussy tightened around him, then dragged a possessive hand up my body to the mark he had left on my shoulder the very same night we left Xargi.
Here. In this room. The second we were all alone, he snapped—stripped me out of my jumpsuit while the others watched, all of us grimy and stinking of rebellion, and pounded me into Fintan’s pristine bedlinens until we imploded together. His teeth found my body ravenously, and beneath the royal canopy, he had marked me—his fated mate—and branded me forever.
Since then, he hadn’t been able to not touch it. Sometimes he stroked it absently, his arm on the back of my chair at meals and his fingers grazing the mark that would never fade, but others, like now, had more intention. Even with Rafe holding me up, feeding from me, pleasuring me with his vampiric toxin, Elijah planted a hand over the mark and gripped tight as he rocked his hips to mine.
While Rafe had been rough and Fintan an absolute tease, Elijah was all passion. Deep, purposeful movements paired with a lot of soul-consuming eye contact. I lost myself in his golden irises, in the dragon gazing deep inside me, right down to my core. Magic quivered in my belly, spurred by our connection and sparking at my fingertips. No spells cast, of course, but the intensity of our bond usually set off the unstable well inside me—like my magic was just tickled to be so near the man ordained to be mine by fate.
Time lost all meaning when Elijah was inside me, and when he finally stilled, head bowed in almost reverence and his mark prickling like fire, I was done for. Light-headed. Weak. Boneless. Pleasure addled and in no place to stand on my own two feet.
As soon as he finally eased out of me, my body slick with sweat and my thighs painted up by my guys, Rafe scooped me into his arms and perched on the edge of his usual chair. He held me in the afterglow, cuddled me, as his toxin sealed my open wounds. Elijah kissed my temple, stroked my cheek, gently cupped my chin. Fintan fetched something soft and silky and soothing to drape over me as one of them—I was
too far gone to be sure of which, my head in the clouds and my body floating into oblivion—carried me up to the enormous bath one floor above.
I came back to them sometime later, surrounded by rose-scented suds and dunked in pleasantly toasty water. Someone had washed my hair, my red mane soaked and tamed, and while I slumped back against Elijah, Rafe floated in front of me massaging my feet.
Then there was Fintan shooing off the servants, a feast of grapes and cheese and more fae wine set out at the rim of this mammoth tub. Inhaling deeply, body totally relaxed except for the pleasant dull ache between my thighs, I pushed off Elijah’s chest, then reached back to grab a cube of cheese that tasted an awful lot like brie and a handful of grapes. Needing some space, I settled on the marble bench that ran the perimeter of the pool—alone and content and beyond satisfied.
Golden orbs drifted throughout the room, like candlelight only everlasting and much brighter. One touch and you could change the color; I tapped one that floated by and it bled from gold to light green, identical to the juicy grapes in my hand.
“Wine, anyone?” Fintan held up a recently uncorked bottle, shaking it a little. I crinkled my nose with a grimace.
“Gods no,” I insisted. “I’m drunk enough on you three.”
“Stop trying to see if you can make me vomit again,” Elijah growled, his arm stretched along the pool’s porcelain edge, fingers toying distractedly with my hair. “I know your schemes, fae.”
Fintan rolled his eyes and filled a lone champagne flute with a snort. “Fucking lightweights.”
Unable to help myself, I watched, utterly enraptured with the spill of strawberry-pink liquid that sparkled in the orb-light. An explosion of fruity sweetness filled the air around us, but just to be safe, I stuck to my grapes and cheese. Munching away, I settled into the usual post-frolicking chatter in silence, slowly swishing my feet back and forth beneath the bathwater’s bubbly surface. The boys, meanwhile, discussed what tomorrow had in store for us: a trip to a royal vineyard.