by S. A. Parker
Gone! Poof. Just like that.
I look at Kal, whose eyes are jacked. “You’re telling me, all I needed was a wing orgasm to pull the bastards in?” I sound pissed but I’m actually so fucking excited. All I need to do is pop my wings out at the wrong time, and one of my Gods will stroke the ladies until I squirt vagina juices everywhere to get them back in.
He nods. “Seems that way …”
“Fuck yes.”
He laughs through his nose, somehow managing to make it sound sexy. “I could tell they were hankering for it—it’s unusual for them to be so demanding, or sensitive. I doubt they would have responded so well for someone you don’t care about though …”
The statement sounds more like a question to me.
I nod. “Probably right. Can I rub your wings too?” I just want us to rub each other’s wings all day, every day, for the rest of our immortal lives.
“No, Dell, not today. Not while you’re under my net, anyway.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear—the movement so delicate, I smile. “Like I said, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. It would be like bedding a drunk woman, and not knowing if she was actually into it or not. I’d never do that, so I won’t have you now.” He draws a deep breath. “Despite how much I fucking want to.”
I roll my eyes, pushing myself onto my back. My vagina’s pouting, even though she’s still quivering. Giving him a sideways look, I note his firm cock pressed against the seam of his trousers. “Then I guess you’re spending the day with your harem?”
He taps his finger to his lips, watching me, his gaze quizzical. “No.”
“No?”
“No. Despite Sol’s jesting, I barely ever go in there. I certainly won’t be going in there anymore; I have your gorgeous fucking wings to keep me on my toes.”
I roll onto my stomach because I feel them popping out of my back at the mention of their gloriousness. He’s right … they are fucking gorgeous. They do a little fluff dance, so I reach back and pat them with the tips of my fingers.
“What do you mean … you don’t like your harem anymore?”
He quirks a brow. “Do you really want to talk about this?”
“Yes, I need you to spell it out for me.”
“Well, this is their haven …” he says, cautiously. “A place they can enjoy each other and be safe from the King.” He pauses, clearing his throat before continuing. “As long as you’re okay with it, they will have a home here for as long as they wish; despite the fact that I no longer have sex with the few who are partially interested in my dick.”
Hang on a minute … “Do you mean …?”
“Most of them are only interested in other women? Absolutely.”
Huh.
When I walked through that room the first time, I did notice most of them were too preoccupied with each other to even notice our presence …
And here I was, thinking Kal was the biggest man whore of the bunch. Instead, he’s liberating his very large group of vaginas … just not with his God rod.
I wonder if this man has any other carefully veiled secrets.
He quirks a crooked smile. “Like I said—I intend to put you on a pedestal, Little Dove.”
Smiling, I stroke that really eager erection, but he grabs me firmly around the wrist, halting my progress. “Don’t.”
I roll my eyes for probably the tenth time today, but retract my hand and go back to fondling my feathers. “Did you have sex with that girl, the one at Kroe’s establishment?” I ask, in my happiest voice ever.
He rolls onto his back, sucks in a deep breath then slowly lets it out. “I did, and my dick was so soft, but I had to have sex with her because you fucking wished me too.” His voice has a resentful undertone, which I ignore. “Anyway, I ended up doing other things to get her off, seeing as it felt wrong being inside her. Didn’t take much to get the poor thing to orgasm, she was so starved of pleasure.”
The story makes me feel really fucking happy, and I nod enthusiastically. He clears his throat, eyeing my wing that’s brushing his brow, having decided it’s a good time to seek some more attention from her Night God.
Greedy things.
“I like that you’re so happy about that story, it actually means you’re really pissed off about it. And it’s a big fucking turn on knowing you’re feeling possessive of me …” He turns his head to the side, looking me in the eye and paralysing me with happiness.
I smile so damn widely. “Can you blame me? They should rename you the God of Sexy, and Wing Orgasms.” I think on that for a moment. “God of Wingasms, let’s go with that. The ‘sexy’ part speaks for itself. Loudly.”
He smiles, flashing those gleaming canines that I may or may not picture being embedded in my neck. “I also like how the happy web tears down those highly fortified walls of yours.”
I nod. “I have no walls. Just happiness. Speaking of tearing down highly fortified objects …” I gesture to his throbbing erection. “Want a hand with that?”
He groans, rolling away from me and only just missing another caress from my over enthusiastic wing. He settles on his back, knuckle poised between his teeth. “Just … give me a second.”
That thing looks like it’s going to need more than a second to deflate, not that I’m an expert or anything. Actually, I am. I’m practically a professional penis deflater. Never looked at it that way … it puts a nice slant on the whole ‘whore’ thing. “So, what are we doing today?”
He waves his hand in the air dismissively, eyes screwed shut. “I can’t talk to you right now, even your voice is making him ache.”
Aww, he’s speaking about his penis as if it has its own identity. I think I’m rubbing off on the bastard. “Whoops, no talking then.”
He levels me with a glare. “Dell …”
I’m running my fingers over my lips—pretending to button them together—when a tall, dark, sexy hunk of man meat saunters into the room. When he sees me, he stops mid-step, mouth wide open, eyeing my wings.
Kal sits up swiftly, groaning in the process—probably because the action gave the excited party goer between his legs a bit of friction. “Cassian …”
Cassian’s solidly built—muscled arms and chest tapering to a thin waist. His black hair is longer than Kal’s, tickling at a three-day old shadow, a roguish fringe dangling in eyes which are … purple? Odd. The tip of a tattoo is visible, peeking up by his shirt collar. I’m curious as to what it is.
Cassian’s gaze drops to Kal’s erection and he clears his throat, turns around, and slips his hands into his pockets.
“Wait here, Dell.” Kal rolls off the bed and I swear to Gods, my wings pout. “Do not fucking move, do you understand me?”
I beam a smile at him. “Sure. No problem, glorious God of Wingasms.”
Cassian clears his throat and Kal winces, striding towards Cassian with shoulders that look like they need a good massage. He leads him through the open doorway and closes the doors behind them.
Private conversation, it seems.
I smile, because I don’t mind being left out at all. In fact, it only makes me happier. But twiddling my thumbs gets boring after about thirty seconds, and my face starts to ache from smiling too much, which only makes me smile wider.
Thinking about my sexy Night God’s orgasm giving hands, I pull my left wing forward, giving her a little inspection, and decide she could benefit from a tidy up. She fluffs herself up at that thought, probably because she’s all enthusiastic about looking her very best for all four of her Sun Gods. Especially Kal. He gave her some serious attention, and she seems pretty excited about showing him her appreciation of his wise hands.
I’m mid-preen when Kal storms back into the room with Cassian in tow, both looking stern as shit. I tilt my head, observing them walking side by side …
Hmm, they walk the same.
“Dell, we’re go—” Kal stops abruptly, cocking a brow as the determination in his gaze melts, replaced with something akin to … curiosity? Sh
ock? “Are you … preening?”
I look down at my pretty feathers, then back up at Kal. “Yeah … do you like it?” I stretch my freshly fluffed wing out wide, a proud smile plastered across my face as I eagerly await his approval.
Cassian blushes … strange.
“Turn around, Cassian, and leave the fucking room.”
Ohh, assertive Kal. My vagina sniffs the air.
“Yes … Sire.” Cassian turns and leaves the room, a barely repressed smile nudging the corners of his lips.
Kal takes a step forward, then pauses. “Baby, are you preening them for me?”
I nod enthusiastically and the smell of male arousal thickens in the large space we’re occupying.
Cassian chuckles in the hallway. I don’t know what’s so funny, but I appreciate that someone’s finally meeting me on my happy scale.
Kal takes another step forward, hands out in front of him, as if he’s approaching a rabid animal. “I love that you’re preening your feathers for me, Little Dove, but let’s just keep it for my eyes only, okay?”
I pout, though it’s a super smiley pout, and drop my hands from my pretty feathers that are practically gleaming now. “What if I want to preen them for Aero, Drake, or Sol?” I know I’m a bit greedy, but I think all my Sun Gods deserve to see my feathers in tip top shape.
“That’s okay—just not in front of strangers. Okay?”
“Meaning Cassian’s a stranger, and not welcome in my harem of hotties?”
Kal winces, and Cassian makes a choking sound.
“No. Cassian is out of fucking bounds. No preening in front of Cassian. Ever.”
“Got it.” I consider for a moment, frowning. This is all very strange. I just wanted to make my wings sparkle for my Night God. “But … why? What if I want to preen while I’m walking down the street one day? The need just … you know, pops up?”
Kal takes a few quick steps forward, suddenly standing in front of me. He pulls my hand away from my wing—which I was absentmindedly preening again. Wow, I’m efficient. Multi-tasking like a fucking boss.
“Let me put it into perspective …”
I can tell he’s trying really hard not to look at my pretty wings, and my chest swells with pride. My preening skills must be fantastic.
“Preening is a sign you want to mate with someone … in other words, it’s foreplay. It would be more acceptable for you to lie down on the street with your legs apart stroking yourself in front of a crowd than it would be for you to preen those glorious wings of yours in public.”
Oh.
Right.
Well then.
Told you I need a fucking manual. That explains the scent of arousal …
Kal cocks a brow, probably because all the blood just drained from my face, though my smile is wider than ever.
“So … no preening in public places?”
“No. Not unless you want me to drag you into a dark corner and sink my teeth into your neck.”
Wow. Now I’m blushing. Head spin.
Kal laughs and tugs me up, pulling me from the bed. “I’m going to get these beautiful wings of yours to tug into your back, then Cassian, my general, is going to accompany us to the throne hall. Sound good?”
I cock a curious brow at my sexy Wingasm Master. “Sounds good to me! What’s the occasion?”
“Some urgent business, but I can’t leave you here or I risk dropping the happy web. But if you want me to drop it, I’m more than happy to dr—”
“No! Happy web stays on!” I blurt.
He frowns. “I thought you’d say that. Turn around, let me see those beautiful feathers you prepared for me.”
I spin, my smile practically splitting my face in two.
Fuck yes … wingasm time!
Chapter Four
I’m trailing behind my Night God and his hot general, trying to ignore their tight buns wrapped in matching leather fuck me trousers.
The hallway of the Night palace glitters with its black stone threaded with silver striations, enhanced by the light flooding in through wide-open arched windows running along one side. It takes a sharp turn, as though following the curve of the mountain it’s carved into, rather than fighting against its confines. There’s a break in the windows in the form of an expansive archway which leads to a glistening balcony … without rails.
Pausing, I note the men are deep in conversation as they walk ahead, so I curl my hand around the arched frame and draw a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air flowing in through the space. Jasmine and verbena. Glorious.
I walk onto the balcony, creep towards the edge, and gasp in sheer fucking wonder.
Holy Kingdom of the Night.
I can’t be sure, but it looks like we’re perched atop a giant, hopefully dormant, volcano. A vast crater lake of sparkling turquoise lies at its centre, circled by a sprawling city arching up the internal edges, its buildings appearing to be carved from the very mountain itself. No two are the same—perhaps created by the individuals occupying them, expressing their individuality.
The Night Kingdom palace dusts the entire upper ring of the volcanic crater. There are balconies—one of which I’m standing on—jutting out sporadically below a sky caped in powder blue. The sun is sending a long shadow across one half of the bowl, leaving the other half in glistening, glorious light.
I take another step towards the threshold, the light wind tugging at my hair, and a small chunk of stone breaks away from the edge.
Oops. I hope that doesn’t knock some unsuspecting High Fae the fuck out.
“Little Dove …”
I spin to see Kal behind me, hand extended, a look of concern shadowing his face.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to jump,” I beam at him.
He offers a forced smile. “How about we move away from the balcony, yeah?”
“Fine.” I take his hand and he leads me back inside. “I was just appreciating the pretty view. I never knew your kingdom was so beautiful!”
I love this happy web. It’s like being perpetually high on life with no worries in the world!
Cassian is waiting for us ahead, leaning against the wall, watching us with barely masked curiosity.
“I had you housed on the ocean side when you were here last—just to be safe.”
“Meaning you thought I might be a risk to your people … a little whore like me?” I’m skipping along beside him now, because one can only smile so much before it overflows into happy steps.
He shakes his head, halting my skipping legs by grabbing my chin. “Don’t be mad …”
I practically beam at him. “I’m not!”
“Fucking happy web,” he grumbles under his breath, storming ahead.
I shrug, skipping after him, feeling as light as a feather.
Kal passes Cassian. “Stick with her and remember what we discussed.”
Cassian releases a deep, dramatic sigh. “Why don’t you just put her to sleep? Then I can tuck her behind a column until you’re done?”
I laugh at the suggestion.
“Because she will roast my fucking balls. Just do as I said.”
Cassian nods then drops in behind me as I continue to skip down the hall. He’s probably making sure I don’t get distracted by happy thoughts and pretty views.
Kal disappears around a corner ahead and I turn to face Cassian, who’s looking at me like I’ve gone mad, as I skip backwards along the hallway. “So, we’re going to the throne hall?”
“Yes.” His tone is clipped and he wiggles a finger, indicating for me to turn around again.
I oblige, but not before I’ve done a couple of twirls, just because.
We round the same corner Kal did, bathed in golden, morning light, and I come to an abrupt halt.
An enormous archway opens up to a space that resembles the colosseum in Grueling—the one they use for the weekly whore markets. Except this is not a whore market at all, and it’s certainly a lot bigger and substantially grander than the colosseum. This
one is carved from the same silver-threaded black rock as the hallway, and is big enough to house thousands of people in the stands. As it is now, those stands are at least a quarter full, wings of various colours and tones perched behind spectator’s backs.
A podium juts out from the tiered seating, upon which sits a large, silver throne, glowing in the light streaming through the open archways like a not-so-distant star. Kal strides across the podium and the crowd erupts in cheers as he sits in his shiny God seat, hand raised. The roar of the chanting crowd settles into a murmuring rumble.
“Just stick with me, and we won’t have any trouble,” says Cassian. He’s watching the ground at the base of the colosseum, as if waiting for something.
I open my mouth to ask what, but he wraps his warm, calloused hand around my wrist and drags me off along the upper, outer ring of tiered seating, which curves around the many columns reaching skyward. I’m smiling so fucking widely, because I just love being dragged around and told what to do.
We stop about midway around and I have a full view of my God of Night sitting over there on his glowing chair, and whatever is supposed to be happening below. Kal is wearing an impassive mask, his face all hard lines, jaw firmly set. He doesn’t look like the Kal I know … he looks like a ruthless fucking God.
My vagina licks her lips and I take a step forward, intent on telling him exactly what she thinks of him right now, but Cassian hauls me back in place, onto a high bench.
“Nuh uh, you stay right here.”
“But my vagina needs to speak to my Night God,” I plead.
“Fucking hell …” Cassian shakes his head, grumbling under his breath, but keeps a hand firmly clenched in the back of my shift, anchoring me in place.
Kal lifts his hand and the crowd falls silent. A man is dragged through a doorway at the base of the colosseum by two grey winged men with staunch shoulders and taut expressions.
The man they are dragging has dirty blonde hair and a bloody nose. His hands are cuffed in iron—evident by the red burns around his wrists. There’s a smear of dirt crossing the right side of his face, and his clothing is torn in places, though his tunic and pants look fine enough to belong to a nobleman. The wings spawning from his back are a gentle shade of pastel blue and I marvel at their beauty.