Shadows and Shade Box Set
Page 124
Sex.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Okay, so maybe there are two thoughts on my mind. Sex, and that somewhere in her shattered soul, Vexy has the power to save us all.
The sealer bitch saunters into Uncle’s private dining room between entree and mains. Her hair’s braided back, and her lithe figure looks relaxed and at home in our lavish Black Castle, but she’s in leather riding breeches and currently pulling her cloak from her shoulders – so she just arrived.
“I have news,” she announces.
Uncle stands, so by protocol I stand, but I continue to tear chunks off my bread roll and devour them.
“Jada,” Uncle greets.
Jada pauses, dipping low into a curtsy with an amused smile painted across her bright lips.
Focusing on those lips begins to get me hard, just like that. One look, one thought, and all the blood in my body is redirecting. I pop the last of my roll in my mouth and adjust myself. The servants cleared our entree dishes but haven’t returned with mains yet, so there’s nothing left on the table for me to occupy myself. Instead, I follow in my uncle’s shadow, moving around the table to the woman.
She walks straight into Lithael’s arms, embracing him warmly. His lips press to her cheek, and she blushes – too bright on her pale cheeks.
“You’ve been gone long enough for your mission to have been successful,” Lithael states.
“More than. Everyone is in position. The ambush couldn’t be more perfectly set. What will be now lies in the hands of your army and the gods themselves.”
“Then what’s your news?”
“I heard rumors on the road of your weapons. Apparently, the thieves are led by a woman.”
I snort. “That’s old news.”
“A woman who can cast spells like a mage.”
Like my sister. Kyra is stealing our weapons!
I growl and thump my fist down on the table.
“All in good time, my nephew,” Lithael says, his tone soothing but his words a threat. I rein in my temper, cross my arms over my chest, and smother my growl.
Servants filter in, carrying trays and jugs. They spot Jada and soon have a third setting laid at the long ornate table. The conversation pauses while they’re in the room, and the whole time Jada bats her eyelashes at my uncle. Oh, she’s discreet, but I’ve watched her do it for years now. Every angle of her is seductive, her body language designed to incite lust. From the way her gaze trails down his chest and sits just a little too long on his crotch, to the way she bites her lip, then with fake coyness tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The servants exit and Lithael finally asks, “Anything else?”
Jada shrugs, like the rest of it is of no consequence. “Only that, as a contingency, the Elorsins are expecting me at the White Castle on their arrival with a Release Seal so their whore doesn’t have to begin the trials, or training, or be sealed, or something like that.”
“Perfect, we’ll have a secondary ambush drawn up. You can help us choose somewhere the Elorsins would trust, or at least not suspect, then we will lure the survivors there and finish the job.”
Jada looks impressed with herself, like a puppy certain it’s earned a reward. My heart picks up speed, knowing what’s coming next. She should know, but she never learns.
She steps in close to my uncle, her arms about to snake around his waist, but he grabs her by the hair and forces her swiftly onto her knees at my feet.
“Relieve my heir. I want to finish my dinner,” he declares, letting her go and settling himself at the head of the table.
I sneer, my lips curled up in an excited smile. Perfect.
For half a second, she looks at me with disgust, but in the space of a blink that turns to fear. Even better.
I sit on the edge of the dining table and pick up the serrated steak knife from what is supposed to be her setting. My knees widen, and with my other hand I crook one finger to summon her forward. Uncle laughs, leaning back in his chair to enjoy the show. Jada sighs, rolling her shoulders like this is no big deal, but I can see the tremble in the way she moves. She’s too pretty for me, far too sophisticated for a man who can’t even be bothered to brush his hair and enjoys once a week showers when not ordered to clean up in my uncle’s presence. I like who I am, and I’m not about to change that for anyone short of the Crown.
She settles between my knees, popping each button open and curling her delicate fingers around my dick.
I tap the table with the tip of the knife. “You know what I want.”
She cringes, tries to hide it, then fails as she stretches her arm toward the table. Pressing her palm on the surface and splaying her fingers wide.
I jam the knife straight through the middle of her hand. Feeling the slip of flesh, the momentary resistance of a small bone, then the solid timber underneath. She screams, the sound at once delicious and dark. It's impossible not to stroke my dick while she struggles to control herself. Deep laughter fills the room from my watching uncle.
But the air hisses through Jada’s teeth, and she manages to get herself under control quicker than last time – releasing a pang of disappointment that makes me grab her hair and force her face into my lap.
She obeys. She will always obey.
She wants the throne beside Lithael, and he’s promised it to her once the Elorsins are removed. So there is nothing that can’t be demanded, nothing that won’t be done.
Her lips slide over my dick, quivering with fear that shoots pleasure down the inside of my legs and all the way to the tips of my toes. I moan, forcing her head deeper, deeper, until she gargles and heaves. But there’s no fight, no resistance. She’d fuck a grimm if Lithael ordered it. Probably has.
I add that to a note somewhere in the back of my mind, Watch Jada fuck a monster from the Veil.
Then let go of her head and enjoy the way she gasps. Obediently, her tongue runs over my tip and starts sucking. Her hand working at the base and a whimper humming over her vocals. My grip on the knife handle relaxes, and I dip one finger into the blood flowing from the back of her hand.
Yes, this is how life should be.
This is how the whole world will bow to me.
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Power and Pentad
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Kitten and Allure
Preamble
Reimagined scene that slips in towards the end of book 3, Kitten and Allure.
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT
* * *
A Note From The Author
We don’t need a lot of lead into this scene. Shade has developed a bond with our guys, but she is still fully mortal, and intimacy would still end her life.
But what if she was a full Saber at this point?
What if she were actually a two-hundred-and-seventy year old Saber and keen to take this relationship to the next level?
Then maybe the larder scene would go a little more like this…
Remember that all of the guys have been cock blocking Seth this whole time, and Killian almost lost his control healing our girl’s arm. So both Killian and Seth are chomping at the bit to have what they simply cannot – in this version of the story they’re held back simply on Pax’s orders.
No sharing beds with teammates.
Things get messy in a team when sex is involved.
But rules are made to be broken.
In this reimagining Pax isn’t here since he and Roarke and all of the Sabers are off in the forest searching for the Spring – leaving Seth and Killian home alone with a very adventurous Shade.
As always there’s some overlap between this imagined chapter and the real thing...
But remember this chapter never happened.
Never will.
Forbidden Larder Scene
I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with the tang of copper in the air as mischief unfolds. His orange-cherry taste settles on my tongue.
“We…” he says, his voice smooth as silk. Slipping deep within me and down. Down to places that shouldn’t get excited when being hugged by a guy covered in flour. “We should do it properly.”
“It?” I gasp.
What are we talking about?
I’m blaming this on the wine. Yep, definitely not my fault.
“The wine made me do it,” I say.
He chews on the inside of his lip for a second.
A very short second – before those lips are against mine, and hot passion seeps into us both. His hand trails down the cupboard, making a sound almost like he’s digging his fingernails in. Trying to stop himself.
I grab his shirt, somewhere near his hip, and ball it into my fist. Sure, he could pull away from me with ease, but I still have to try. He pauses for the barest of seconds, then reaches down to hook his hands under my knees and lifts me up off the ground. My legs wrap around his waist as his body presses me harder into the cupboard.
Now that he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, I yank at his shirt – trying to tug it over his head.
He moans, pulling back from our kiss. My lips chase his, trying to convince his mouth to stay. Heart-racing need runs through me. I run my hand along the smooth flesh of his back, nails scraping, more anger than I care to admit bubbling inside me.
“Vexy,” he moans. “If you start taking my clothes off, I’m going to start taking yours off.”
“Kind of the point,” I gasp.
He kisses my lips, then my cheek. Trailing his touch and soft presses like smoldering fires down my neck and along my collarbone.
“No,” he says.
“Yes,” I counter.
His hand slips under the hem of my shirt. Palm on my hip – then fingers trailing up. They find the edge of my breastband and hesitate – before scraping back down and settling onto my hip. Holding me tight.
Like that’s the only thing keeping his hand from going anywhere else. And it wants to be everywhere else.
“Alpha’s rules,” he groans.
“It’s just a rule. Not an order. We can break the rules.”
“Not this one.”
“We’re made for breaking the rules, Chaos.”
That coppery scent rushes over me again.
“There’ll be pain if we break this one.”
“I can handle a little pain,” I say.
“Not for you, for me. And it won’t be a little. Pain is a definite motivator for following the rules.”
“So it’s between me and pain – why do I feel like that’s a challenge?” I admit, which means I’ve been hanging around Chaos too long.
“Don’t challenge me,” he moans.
Because that’s his weakness, and I love a good weakness.
“I challenge you not to go any further with me then,” I say, batting my eyelids in a way that is so far from my normal demeanor that I almost make myself laugh.
His moan turns into a groan.
“What are you doing to me?” he asks.
And I hope that means I just triggered a complete reverse reaction to my challenge because that was definitely my goal.
He’s hard against me, his lips moving back to mine. Soft and passionate and full of heat – desire. I want more.
His shirt has to come off.
I pull at it again, and a loud fabric tearing sound makes us both pause.
“Did you just rip my shirt?”
“Just a little bit.”
He runs his tongue across his lips.
“What do I taste like?” I ask, before realizing that that is kind-of a weird question.
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, running his teeth over it slowly before focusing on me again.
“Like something I can’t have,” he says, moving back and letting my feet fall to the floor. “Darkness is coming,” he says, tugging me to the side, so he can open the larder door.
“He is?” I ask.
I wouldn’t know.
“Quick,” Chaos says, giving me a shove into the larder.
At some stage earlier in the day, several sacks and other supplies have been brought in by Sabers, so there’s not a lot of room in here. But somehow we manage to fit. I’m both curious why we’re even in here – and enjoying the mystery – so I take a seat on another large sack of flour with my back against the wall, Chaos kneeling in front of me and a crate of Silvari wine beside my foot. I grab a bottle and pop the cork, taking quick sips of the thick red liquid… mmmm…. wine.
He smiles big at me, then shuts the door and cuts off almost all the light. There’s just a sliver around the doorframe. Then he latches it tightly.
“Ohhh,” he moans. “Vexy.”
He rubs his arms up and down over his body, throwing exaggerated shoulder movements and even a head flick.
My eyes nearly pop out of my head.
What the bralls is he doing?
“Kiss me, Vexy,” he says with a seductive drawl on the last syllables.
Darkness’s boots make the floorboards creak, somewhere in the lounge room, at a guess.
Chaos smacks his lips in a kissing noise, and I finally get it. I part my lips and let out a desire-filled moan. Falling into Chaos’ game.
“Oh, Chaos,” I murmur, followed by some sounds that belong behind the hay bales.
Chaos stops making his own noises and moves in closer, close enough for me to make out his expression in the low light. Eyes wide and heated cheeks raised in amusement. He grips my knees, his fingers pressing firmly, hinting at a very specific kind of amusement.
“Vexy,” he gasps.
His gaze lowers to my lips, watching intently as I part them and say, “Chaos.”
I’ll play his game.
“Mmm, yes, Chaos, yes. That feels so good,” I say, pitching my voice in all the right places. “More, more.”
“Vexy,” he whispers, forcing my knees wider apart so suddenly that I let out a surprised squeak and damn near fall off the sack.
He’s trying to throw me off my game – not going to happen.
“Chaos,” I moan, running my finger across my lips – which makes him focus real hard.
So I lick the tip of my finger, enjoying the way he leans in closer.
Then I suck it, moaning a little.
He grips my pants at the hips and yanks them down, which is too easy given everything I wear is from their wardrobes, and all of it is slightly big.
Pressing a hand to my chest, he forces me to lean back, or maybe he’s just making sure I don’t try to get up and fight him. Not likely.
Not when he’s pushing my thighs wide and lowering his face down between my legs.
I gasp for real.
Not fake or pretend. He begins searching with his tongue. Shooting sensation through my everything.
Then he finds my clit.
My. Chuckin’. Clit.
Damn.
“Yes,” I moan.
Grabbing his head, my fingers thread through his hair as I push him hard against me before I realize that that’s kind of rude.
I pull his head back, searching out his eyes. “Sorry.”
He licks his lips as he slowly moves up my body. His hands are quickly underneath my shirt and slipping it up over my head.
“Never be sorry,” he whispers.
Shirt gone. Breastband next.
The sack underneath me leaves him kneeling at the perfect height. Hips forced between my thighs. I’ll admit, right now this feels perfect – I’m just hoping he doesn’t regain his ability to think properly any time soon. To obey Alpha and his rules.
His thumb traces over my clit, and all those thoughts turn to nothing but a rush of pleasure.
“Chaos,” I moan, followed by, “Chaos,” in more of a squeal and “Chaos!” as his thumb works everything in me into a frenzy of desire.
“Vexy, cum for me,” he groans, slipping one – then two – fingers inside me.
Damn, I didn’t realize I needed instructions.
Train of thought gone again.
He shuffles his hips closer to mine, pulling at his pants to free himself and all-too-easily slipping inside of me.
Fuck – he feels so good.
“Cum for me before Darkness realizes we’re not playing,” he whispers, thrusting and rubbing and…
I don’t care what he’s doing, just that it doesn’t stop!
Darkness moves softly into the kitchen.
I moan – then bite my lip. Rocking against Chaos. My hands link behind his neck, and pure pleasure chooses this exact moment to reduce me to a shaking, quivering mess. Chaos grips my hips, abandoning my clit now that I’ve made all that noise, and slams me down hard against him. He leans back, pulling me from the sack and basically into his lap on the cramped floor.
That’s exactly the moment that the door’s ripped open. Darkness fills the frame completely, and I’m honestly surprised the door is even attached to the hinges anymore. Darkness grabs my arm and pulls me out of the larder, straight off of Chaos, slamming the door shut and putting his back against it.
“It was a jest, brother,” Chaos shouts, trying the handle with a loud rattle but no luck.
Was a jest, like ten minutes ago.
Darkness’s eyes rake over me, down to my feet and all the way back up. Well, maybe not my feet. I suspect he stopped before my feet.
“Darkness?” I half ask, worried about the death grip on my arm.