The earth elemental gripped my hips in strong hands as Reg slicked a finger over my opening, trailing down to where George was buried inside of me. He moved back to my ass and very carefully pushed one and then two inside, making George groan as he teased the other man’s cock through the thin wall of my ass.
“Wow, ST, you really are ready for this, huh?” he chuckled, knowing I was a little, erm, preoccupied and unable to respond seeing as how my mouth was full. Shane tasted a little like me which was actually hot as hell, even better when I felt Reg push against my opening and then slide in, nice and deep.
Between him and George, I was completely full, stretched to the limit and loving every second of it.
My eyes were basically glued to Shane’s chiseled midsection but hell if I was going to complain about that. He moved inside my mouth, testing that famous gag reflex of mine. But there was a careful restraint to his thrusts, like he’d rather kill himself than hurt me. I trusted him and that, that was what made this so much fun.
Reg moved against my ass, using long, deep thrusts to fill me up, teasing both me and George as he groaned and dug his fingers into my hips.
Magic swirled through the room, rustling the curtains on the window, the bed. The windows were closed, so it could only really be one thing. I ignored it as the seven of us engaged in a love fest that was probably illegal in several countries—fortunately not any of the ones I was from/had lived in. Although maybe it was illegal in Mississippi. I’d have to check on that.
My fingers curled into the blankets as my orgasm rode up on me in a wave, my runes flaring white-hot, so bright they killed all the shadows in the room, and turned night to day. The brightness was so intense that I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my climax roll over me in a way that was different than anything I’d ever felt before, like each rune etched into my skin was radiating pleasure.
I was literally trapped inside of it, all of that fucking intensity.
I came so hard that I took all three of the guys with me, cursing and grabbing onto me as they finished. Shane squeezed my hair so hard that it actually hurt and then released me abruptly, sitting back and looking at me like he’d never seen anything so … beautiful in his life?
“Sugar,” he whispered as Reg pulled out and I scooted off of George, panting and trying to catch my breath. My skin was glittering gold and I could feel it, all that power in the room, the connections to the men bright and pulsing with energy.
“Warden,” I said, crawling over to the others and grabbing Dustin by the arm. “Dusty, move.”
He looked at me for a moment, his green eyes widening slightly, and then moved back from Warden’s face.
“Get on your back,” I told my former lover as Billy caught on and, uh, withdrew.
“Holy fuck, Smokey …” Warden breathed, but he did as I asked, letting me climb on top of him. Billy took up the rear, and Dustin put the head of his shaft near my lips, letting me curl my fingers around the base and guide him in between my lips.
Since I was already warmed up from Reg, Billy didn’t have to wait, entering me with a hard thrust that rocked our entire group, pushing Dustin even further into my mouth. With my skin glimmering, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, I took the other three men on the same ride, feeling the power stir in the room like it had before.
Only this time … it was worse.
The glass in the windows trembled, and as the three men worked me to another climax, several candles flickered to life on the dresser. Rain hit the side of the house in sheets, pummeled by the wild winds, tree branches scraping the roof. A flicker of lightning lit up the exterior, hitting a metal lightning rod that extended from the roof of one of the outbuildings.
Dustin cursed, and I think he said a few sentences in Gaelic, before my next orgasm forced the men to follow along with me, my muscles trapping Warden and Billy, my hand tightening on Dustin’s shaft.
I was still trying to figure out how to breathe again when the bedroom door opened and both my MIL and my dead grandma were standing there staring at me.
Pushing Dustin away from my mouth, I swallowed—because what else was I going to do with them staring at me like that?—and glared.
“Get the fuck out of our room,” I snarled, and was surprised to see both women look shocked and appalled.
Good, shit, I was shocked and appalled at the lack of privacy and respect.
Runes glowing, I got up off of Warden and marched to the door.
“And if either of you ever come into my marital bedroom again without knocking, I’m going to hand you your asses.”
I snatched the doorknob and threw it closed in their shocked faces.
Finally.
Put my fucking foot down.
I turned back to the guys, feeling that familiar warmth trickle down my inner thighs.
“I’m going to shower and take a bath by myself.” I looked down at my skin, still sparkling with what I assumed was power. We’d completed our sept and celebrated it, too. That was my only guess for why I was now a human nightlight. “First man to bring me wine gets to rub my shoulders.”
“Wow, Smokey, you sure are generous, aren’t ya?” Warden said, but I could hear in his voice he was sated and happy.
Besides, it worked. Both Reg and George were already up and putting on pants, so the joke was on him.
“Aren’t I?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips and looking at the six men in front of me.
Six men to call my own … six husbands.
I guess I had to hope and pray that this power we’d summoned … would be enough to save us.
The next week and a half passed uneventfully—if you could call wedding planning with my mother-in-law uneventful, which I didn't. But in comparison to all the missing girl-elementals or Bio Dad and the many moms trying to kill me then sure … uneventful.
Somehow I knew that this calm was short-lived and I needed to make the most of it while it lasted. So, I’d done as any good daughter-in-law would do and fought my mother-in-law on every aspect of this fucking wedding.
“You can't be serious!” Joan groaned in disgust at my latest choice. In fairness, I didn't blame her on this one. Rainbow striped tablecloths with matching unicorn napkins probably weren't my first choice for my wedding, but Joan hated them so I loved them.
“Yep, perfect. These ones,” I said definitively, giving her an evil eye and daring her to disagree with me. Ever since the argument at breakfast—when Reg threatened to leave—Joan hadn't had the guts to disagree with me on anything and I was taking full advantage.
“Fine, whatever, I don't even care anymore,” she wailed and threw the napkin down on the table. “You just do what you want to do and to hell with everyone else, right? God forbid you try and make your mother-in-law happy at her sons' wedding.” She paused to sob dramatically. “Charlie, darling I can't take this anymore I'm going to my room for a lie down.”
She flounced out of the room in a dramatic huff and I rolled my eyes at her back. Nobody was falling for her bullshit anymore, not even Reg's lead-dad who just sighed and followed his wife out of the room.
“Sugar Tits, are you done torturing my mother? You need to get upstairs and get changed,” Reg reminded me with an eyebrow waggle that made it clear he was picturing me stripping.
The tablecloth and napkin choices had been a last minute decision after the original ones chosen needed to be thrown out, thanks to George spilling red wine all over them while they were setting up the room.
“What, you're saying I can't get married in this?” I took a leaf out of Drama Queen Joan's book and clutched at my imaginary pearls. “But, I thought you loved this shirt.”
“I do love it,” Reg smirked. “I love it more when it's on the floor. Now get that cute ass upstairs and throw on your big white dress. It’s time to get married, baby cakes.” He smacked me on the ass and pointed towards the stairs.
The shirt in question was a custom made design, depicting a toilet surrounded by six plungers and the phrase Clean
est pipes in town!. I fucking loved that shirt, because I really did have the cleanest pipes in town—thanks to the supernatural sex drive of six sexy plumber husbands. Okay, fine, four plumbers, one welder and one electrician but you get the drift. They worked with their hands and had big tools. Regardless of their profession, they were insatiable.
And so was I.
I’d never had so much sex in my life and I was aching—in both the good and bad ways.
Butterflies fluttered through my belly as I headed upstairs. Why was it, that the idea of insects being inside you could be considered sexy or exciting? I don't know, maybe the idea of getting married today was making me philosophical.
“Smokey,” Warden greeted me as I walked into our shared bedroom and found him tying his bow tie in the mirror. Or, trying to. He never had been any good with bow ties, so I crossed the room and slapped his hands away.
“Is that what you're wearing to our wedding?” he teased, his hands cupping my breasts through my fantastic plumber shirt while I fixed his bow tie.
“No.” I raised an eyebrow at him and whipped the shirt over my head to show him my lightning bolt printed bra. “This is. Think Joan will approve?”
“Smokey, babe,” he grinned, “the woman tried to trick you into engaging in an orgy in front of the entire elemental community. Turning up in your bra would not shock her.”
“Hmm, you have a point. Good thing I have a backup plan!” I threw my newly reacquainted soulmate a saucy wink and ducked into the walk-in closet.
“Ta-da!” I announced, reemerging holding my huge white dress bag triumphantly.
“Smokes, what in the shitting sunbeam are you doing?” Warden exclaimed, covering his face with his hands and turning his back on me.
Frowning, I looked at the dress bag I was holding. “Uh, showing you that I actually had a dress and was only joking about going in my bra? Why, what did you think I was doing?”
“I can't see your dress!” he yelled. “Ari-Vampari, that is such bad luck!”
I snorted a laugh. “Um, it's in a bag, Warden. You can't actually see it.”
“Oh.” He hesitantly lowered his hands from his eyes and turned back to face me. “Phew. Bad luck is the last thing we need today. Um, should I send Britt up?”
“Please,” I smiled, “that bitch needs to do my hair and makeup for me.”
“Whoa!” my werewolf bestie exclaimed, as she hustled into the room dragging her literal suitcase of makeup. “Who do you think you’re calling bitch?”
“Never mind,” I winked at Warden, “speak of the devil and she shall appear.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Britt nodded and bumped Warden with her hip. “Get out now, or I’ll send Ari down the aisle just as she is.”
Warden stepped forward, capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. “I think she looks perfect.”
The sound of exaggerated gagging and vomiting came from my bestie and she whacked Warden on the ass with a jandal. Why she was holding a jandal, I had no idea (a jandal is Kiwi slang for flip-flop).
“Get out before you make me sick with this weird as fuck loved up shit you all have going on,” she grimaced.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed, watching Warden's tight ass leaving the room before turning back to my werewolf bestie, “as if you're not all mushy for Aldrich … your mate.”
“Girl, now that you mention it.” A slutty sort of grin curved over her lips and I could tell she was about to tell me a dirty story. “So. Okay. I told you about Aldrich's beta, right? Ragnor?”
“Uh, the viking?” I snickered. “Yeah, babe. What about him?”
“Well, let me tell you about how I convinced him and Aldrich to—” She was cut off by the sound of Joan wailing like a damn emu down the hall and I rolled my eyes. Fucking drama queen.
“Continue this while you sort me out. Apparently, I'm getting married today!” I snatched the jandal from her hand, as she'd been waving it around while she geared up for her story, and whacked her ass with it. “Now, hurry up and make me beautiful.”
Something was giving me an uneasy feeling about how the day was going to play out, but there was no reason why I couldn’t look hot for it!
Despite all of the insane decisions I’d forced down Joan’s throat for this wedding, even I had to admit they’d all somehow managed to work together pretty well. The backyard was twinkling with candlelight, and the obnoxious baby pink roses I’d gleefully insisted on had somehow ended up looking delicate and ethereal, like we were back in the Seelie Court. Minus all the dildos and faeries in fetish-wear of course.
Not that there weren’t guests in fetish-wear, and less. The supernatural community, I was coming to understand, was a kinky one.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Duckie,” Grams murmured, clutching at her pearls as she slowly walked—floated?—with me down the long aisle to where my six dashing husbands stood waiting. She’d insisted on being the one to walk me down the aisle, even though no one other than myself and Joan could see her.
Ten spirit elementals were still missing, having been taken from the troll rave by Daniel, so the guest list was a little light on elemental representation.
“Of course you do, Grams,” I muttered under my breath, totally ignoring the warning. Grams had been having 'bad feelings' all week and as yet, nothing 'bad' had happened. Or rather, anything worse than what had already happened.
As it stood, it’d be hard to get much worse than ten missing spirit elementals, my bio parents hell-bent on draining the magic and the life out of me, and my best friend totally betraying me. The only saving grace on this shit sundae was that Dustin was no longer hung up on Siobhan. Asshole or not, his asshole was mine.
“No, Duckie, this is a really bad feeling. Maybe we need to stop and think about this a minute?” Her ghostly hand was clawing at my arm but I’d not chosen to let her touch me, so her fingers were passing straight through me. Much like how she was standing inside the gigantic puff skirt of my Cinderella gown wedding dress.
Oh, that wasn’t a descriptor. I literally purchased the Cinderella from Disney’s Bridal Boutique. It was this … explosion of silk and taffeta and lace that sat so damn far out from my hips the edges of it were brushing the seats on either side of the aisle as I walked—slowly—toward my husbands. Soon-to-be-husbands? Dicks.
You might be thinking that I’d chosen such an obnoxious dress to piss off Joan—and don't get me wrong, that really was a great bonus—but secretly, deep down, I’d always pictured myself getting married in a meringue style ball gown. Just like Cinderella.
“Grams,” I whispered, “just shut the fuck up and let me get married, okay?”
“Arizona Morgan Smoke, what have I told you about that foul language?” She sniffed her offense. “And on your wedding day, no less.”
“Ugh, whatever,” I groaned, “but shh now.” We were almost at the end of the aisle and my many husbands—fiancés?—were looking at me curiously.
“Grams,” I explained, coming to a stop. On either side of me, I had three sexy as sin elemental men in custom tailored suits that I couldn’t fucking wait to rip clean off them. The second we got back inside I was going to be all damn over them like a seagull on hot chips.
Psst … Americans, those are French Fries.
“Everything okay, sugar plum?” Shane asked, with an eyebrow raised.
“Yep, just a bad feeling.” I rolled my eyes again and he nodded.
“Another one?” Reg snorted. “She must be getting old. Oh wait, she’s dead.”
Grams' ghost made a disgruntled noise but I chose to ignore her. Again.
“Are we ready to begin, then?” A gravelly voice asked, and I looked around in confusion for who was speaking.
“Oh!” I exclaimed when I spotted him … her? It. “You’re a…”
“Officiant. Yes, that’s right.” The large red fox blinked up at me with a somewhat vexed expression. Could foxes have a vexed expression? I didn’t even know. “Are we ready to be
gin then?”
“Um.” Okay, I was at a loss for words.
“Kitsune,” George whispered in my ear. “She never gained more than one tail and eventually just ended up stuck in fox form permanently as she didn't have enough magic to shift. Anita took pity on her and gave her human speech though.”
“Oh,” I nodded.
Damn her sex life must suck now … if she even has one anymore?
“All ready,” Shane told the fox with a polite smile and the officiant sort of nodded at us.
“Right, then.” Her tail flicked back and forth behind her, drawing my attention. What did George mean, that she’d never gained another tail? What sort of fox had more than one tail? George had called her something else. A kitsune? Sounded Japanese or something. Fucked if I knew though, that was just a guess. Maybe foxes in Japan had more than one tail?
Yet another example of how little I really knew about this whole damn world I'd landed vagina first into. Literally. It was my damn greedy vagina that had led me straight down this path.
“Firebug,” Billy hissed. “Are you listening?”
“Huh?” I snapped out of my musing over our officiant's heritage and thoughts of my hungry cunt, and blinked at my fire elemental husband. “Yeah, of course. Totally listening.”
Just as the fox-officiant/kitsune opened her mouth to say something, there was a loud commotion behind us. Guests began whispering and tittering amongst themselves and I began the laborious task of turning my ass around in my wide-load of a dress.
“Ah, for fox sake,” Warden cursed—if that could be taken as a curse—when he spotted whatever it was causing the fuss. Goddamn fucking men and their easy to move in suits.
Eventually, I completed my one hundred and eighty degree turn and my stomach plummeted. There, at the end of the aisle, stood Francesca Rosethorn, queen of the faeries and… dominatrix? She was in head-to-toe tight black leather with one hand holding the leash attached to Baron’s collar. Baron himself was stark naked, other than the collar and his wings, and crawling alongside her on all fours.
“Bleeding shamrocks, does this wee git not know when she’s been beaten?” Dustin growled, flexing his sexy fucking fists in a menacing way and flooding my basement a little.
Elements of Ruin (Hijinks Harem Book 2) Page 27