A Lover's Worth (Spawn of Darkness Book 3)

by S. A. Parker

  I nod. “Seems like a well thought out plan that involves very little risk and maximum control.”

  He reaches down, grabs the blanket, and tosses it at me. “Wrap this around yourself so I don’t launch myself at you when you walk past, pin you against the wall, and fuck you until my seed is dribbling down your legs.”

  Fucking hell. I shake my head, trying to wrap the blanket around me. It takes about ten minutes because I have to lure my unwilling wings into my safety cocoon, so they don’t stroke at my Dusky horn dog on the way past him, then lead me straight onto his erect cock. It doesn’t stop them from trying though, as I waddle past, white knuckled, straining to hold the blanket in place. I make it almost to the bed before the fabric is pulled from my hands and my wings unfurl in dramatic flair.

  I sigh and clamber onto the bed—wings uncomfortably spread beneath me, legs splayed and forming a giant ‘V’ in the air.

  Lifting my head from the bed, I peer at Drake between my legs.

  He’s frowning, fist between his teeth, eyeing the eager little party goer perched between my legs. “What are you doing, Dell?”

  I thought it was obvious. “Giving you direct access to my love nest? I figure if you have a good view of her, then the orgasm will be even better.”

  He prowls towards me, eyes hooded, chest heaving. “I know what you’re doing …”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Really?” He cocks a brow, grabs my legs, and pushes them back together.

  I’m repressing my thinly veiled disappointment that he didn’t take my uterus’s vagina bait, when he flips me over in one swift movement and pushes my legs apart, propping my hips up. Something warm, firm, and hard presses against my entrance …

  “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

  “Drake …”

  “Answer me.”

  Oooh yeah, growly tone …

  My uterus is screaming in excitement, even though I’m gulping back muted emotions that make no sense. Of course this is what I want! And I might just start to cry if I don’t get it right now.

  I reach between my legs and rub my lady lips, causing Drake to groan his appreciation as he caresses my folds with the tip of his God rod—both of us working her at the same time … the slick sound making me drool in anticipation as I rock my hips in a smooth, rhythmic motion.

  “Yes. I want you to fuck me, Drake. I want you to drown me in your seed.” I scream in ecstasy as he sheathes his dick inside me, filling me deliciously in one swift motion.

  It isn’t gentle, but I don’t want gentle right now.

  I want hard.

  I want fast.

  I want him to lose his fucking control. Or … my uterus does. But it’s essentially the same thing … kind of.

  I’m practically brimming with him as he thrusts, threading his hands around my thighs, lifting my lower half from the bed and causing a slick, slapping sound to pulse through the room. “Is this what you want?”

  “Oh God, just like that …” I pant, hands kneading the sheets. “Don’t stop.”

  His pace quickens, the pressure between my legs rising as he hits that throbbing sweet spot over and over again, while my clit receives a rhythmic kiss from his deep, guttural thrusts. “I’m close …”

  Fuck yes. Baby making time …

  My uterus rubs her little hands together then closes her eyes, waiting to be doused in Drake’s fertile cream filling.

  “Come for me …”

  His words undo me. I quiver in an explosion of pleasure as he wrings every last drop of orgasmic pleasure from my pulsing body. My wings sink into my back before he gently lowers me to the bed. He slips out of me, screaming his own release as warm ropes of precious Dusk jizz pour onto my back in spurts …

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  With a satiated growl, he leans over me and kisses the side of my face.

  “Ahh … what the fuck was that?”

  “What do you mean? That was me serenading your vagina the old-fashioned way.” He hums a guttural growl into my ear, nipping at my lobe, and I almost swat the fucker in the nose with my fist.

  “Did you just squirt your seed onto my back?”

  “I figured you needed a bath anyway, so …”

  “Why is it on my back and not coating the walls of my randy uterus?”

  He sucks my lobe into his mouth and I have to fight to stay mad at the sensual bastard.

  “You’ll thank me in about seventy-one hours when your hormones are no longer running the show.” He pushes himself up, grunts his appreciation of his handiwork with a goofy grin splitting his face, then slaps my fucking arse.

  “Un-fucking-likely!” I arch my neck, looking over my shoulder at the creamy mess, all that precious baby batter drizzling onto the bed covers. “And now I’m covered in your jizz.”

  “You should always be covered in my jizz.” He flashes away, then returns with a small hand towel which he uses to clean up his mess … a mischievous glint still caught in his eyes.

  “I’m pissed.”

  He lifts me off the bed and plonks me on my feet, then steers me towards the washroom. “I can tell.”

  “My uterus is even more pissed.”

  He kisses me on the top of my head. “She’ll forgive me, one day. When you’re actually ready.”

  I reach the threshold, turn around, and slam the door in his face—only mildly aware that my hormones are turning me into a hot mess.

  The ever-ready bath steaming in the corner looks inviting. I pad over to it, take the three descending steps into its warmth and instantly begin to relax. I dip my face below the water, run my fingers through my hair, and resurface, feeling like a woman re-born. Kind of like when I was dragged out of that bog, minus the shit smell.

  I rest my head against the side and float my limbs to the surface, my nipples peeping up to say hello.

  The moment of solitude, and distance from my tasty Dusk God, allows me a small reprise of clarity from my overbearing hormones.

  Things are advancing swiftly …

  I’ve got my other Gods to consider, who are likely still licking their wounds in the sin bin. I don’t even know where they sit with all this … they may not be happy to share me with Drake.

  “After I’ve had a nana nap, I think we need a group sex talk,” I say, half to myself.

  Yeah, we definitely need one of those.

  Drake flashes into the room, standing by the far wall and wearing a look of piqued interest. “A what?”

  Yeah, this is going to be really fucking interesting.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m not wearing that.” I point to the leather chastity belt dangling from Drake’s hand.

  “Baby, I’m not asking.”

  I glare at him. “Don’t call me baby when you’re swinging that thing at me.”

  He quirks a brow and takes a step closer—I take a step further away.

  I wish my wings would leave him alone while he’s waving that thing around. I know they’re fanning for his ever-present erection, but they’re really cramping my style. I frown at the tarts rubbing themselves all over his face.

  “Look, Dell, it’s to protect you from the others. Kal and Aero lack in the control department and I wouldn’t put it past them to jump you on the spot when they smell you’re in heat. It’s just a precaution.”

  I take another step back. “That thing has ‘drama’ written all over it. I can just imagine what the others are going to say when I walk in for our sex talk wearing a fucking chastity belt, coated in your scent from our recent mating bonk.”

  He rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up, making the chastity belt fling about dramatically. “I’ll give you the fucking key!”

  Key? Well then … “Can I wear it around my neck like a trophy?”

  He sighs, smiling, though he tries to hide it. His chin dimple always becomes more prominent when he’s trying to be serious. “If it fucking pleases you, babe.”

&nbs
p; Nice. I like the thought of wearing the means to my vagina around my neck, owning it like the boss lady I am. “Is it pretty?”

  He holds up the key and I gasp at its solid, ornate beauty—a golden hue of which I’ve never seen before. “Is that … a different sort of gold?”

  He nods. “Old gold forged from the Labian Mountains of the West. It’s a tribute to the solemn respect placed on High Fae in heat.”

  I point at the chastity belt, scowling. “Use that thing often, do you? To protect all those High Fae bitches in heat from your randy God rod?”

  “Calm down babe …”

  “Don’t tell a High Fae in heat to calm down! Boy, do you have a lot to learn!”

  He winces. “Look Dell, this thing’s been hanging in a cupboard for thousands of years.” He wipes a cobweb off the crotch, blushing. “As you can see, it hasn’t had any use.”

  Oh …

  “Soooo, you don’t have a harem of High Fae in heat, fanging for a chance to spawn a baby Dusk God? Clambering all over you, trying to get you to slip your cock into their sloppy, less than favourable vaginas?”

  He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “No Dell, I don’t. You’re it.” He raises his hands. “Not that you have a sloppy, less than favourable vagina …”

  I throw him an evil glare. The fucker just grins and waves the key at me.

  I fold my arms, head cocked. “Well then, I may not need to hew a piece of that sparkly floor at the Day Kingdom after all … I can wear my contingency plan around my neck!”

  He nods, huffing. “Yeah … probably enough to buy you a nice little home in the East if you ever get sick of my dick. Anyway, it’s yours for the keeping, if you’ll just put this fucking thing on.” He jingles the chastity belt.

  I sigh. “Fine, but it better not chafe.” I signal him permission to approach my fertile lady parts.

  Taking a deep breath, he walks towards me, unbuckling the fastenings of the belt. I lift my shift and he quickly goes about securing the straps over top of my underwear.

  I frown. “Are you holding your breath?”

  He nods, looking up at me sheepishly.

  “Does my vagina smell bad?”

  He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

  “What then?”

  Face reddening, cheeks bulging, he secures the last buckle and gives the whole thing a firm ‘tug’, then quickly steps back, gasping for air.

  “I held my breath so I wouldn’t smell you, be compelled to feast on you for dinner, then shoot a baby right up into that fresh little uterus of yours.”

  “Oh.”

  My vagina smells good then, go me! I wouldn’t mind a ‘good smelling vagina’ badge.

  He tugs a chain from his golden god wear and runs his fingers over the two ends, magically forming a latch that he threads the key along.

  “That was fancy, I thought you just had your other trick?”

  He shrugs and puts the chain around my neck, fastening it at the back then pulling my hair through. “Mainly. We can do other things but nothing too spectacular since our power started to dwindle, thanks to that bastard.”

  “Right.” That bastard. Meaning my father, the man who killed my mother. “Of course.”

  Drake clasps my bare shoulders with his large, calloused hands. “Speaking of power, have you felt anything since you got your wings back? Given your … heritage, you should have some sort of gift. The king can mould his power in a lot of ways, though he isn’t privy to our main abilities. We’re all interested to see if you have the same … capabilities.”

  I fondle the key hanging between my breasts, thankful for the distraction. “Nope, nothing so far.”

  I shudder inwardly, the memory of feeling so helpless while I watched my mother get hacked up by my father painfully clear. Mum had asked me many times if I had ever felt a ‘well of warmth’ inside myself. I never did. And so, I watched her die, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  Perhaps he senses my awkwardness because he pulls me to him, the silence hanging between us. Finally, he draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay. You ready to go?”

  “Yup.”

  I couldn’t save my mother. That’s a scar I’ll bear forever, knowing I could have prevented the one thing that might have turned the tides of history forever, if only I had the competency. Sure, I was only four, but Mum kept asking … this well of warmth must have been in me somewhere.

  My biggest fear now is that something will happen to my Sun Gods. That I’ll be, once again, forced to watch someone I love die at the hands of my father and be powerless to stop it.

  I guess that’s the risk I took when I began to open my heart to the four men who are trying to mend all the broken parts of me.

  Drake flashes us to a giant, flat rock in the middle of the ocean, with a round stone table in the heart, surrounded by six tiny stools made of the same stone. Everything’s drab and dreary. The place even smells solemn, like it doesn’t know what it wants to be.

  “It’s really windy here,” I state the obvious, pushing my tangle of wind-swept hair from my face.

  Drake nods. “It’s the one spot that has a foot in all four territories. Neutral ground.”

  Part of all four territories? Probably why this place smells so confused—like a petrified identity crisis. This place and I should get along just swell.

  “Plus,” he continues, “with the wind whipping your scent away, it should help everyone keep their cocks contained … hopefully.”

  I roll my eyes, only because my uterus told me to. She doesn’t understand what’s so bad about having a cocktail of Sun God jizz all up in her twat. Which is why it’s me in charge, and not her.

  I do a full spin. Yup, no way to get in, no way to get out—unless you have wings or the ability to ‘flash’ through the Bright, or whatever the fuck it is. Maybe they should leave me here until I work it all out for myself, then they wouldn’t have to carry me around like a white feathery manny-pack.

  The sea is swarming with circling megalodons, their giant fins cutting jagged paths through the choppy waves. “Is this their breeding ground?”

  Drake notes my attention on the giant fucking sharks. “Yeah. It will take too much energy for Kal to deter their hunger, so you’ll have to stay on the island this time, I’m afraid.”

  So rude.

  “The others will be here soon, let’s go take a seat.”

  “Did you send them a pigeon?”

  He laughs. “Something like that. We’re connected by the sun, all harnessing the same energy, so there’s a bilateral current between us. Through it, we can receive abstract flickers of emotion or thought.”

  I nod like I know what the hell he’s talking about. The only thing I’ve ever harnessed is a penis. I’m so underqualified for these white wings.

  We sit down next to each other, though there’s a big space between each seat. Drake looks comical perched on that tiny stool, chin in hand with a pinched brow.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  He shakes his head. "That it now makes sense why Sap likes you so much. She was drawn to you, though she likely didn't realise why. Same with the sea serpents—Aero told me about that encounter. They are both creatures of the world and your parents were born directly from it."

  “Penis serpents,” I correct, because he needs to know when he’s incorrectly labelling something. Don’t want the poor guy living his entire immortal life in total ignorance on the matter.

  He smiles, leaning in to peck me on the nose. “Sorry. Penis serpents.”

  “Penis what?”

  We spin around on our teeny stools.

  Sol’s approaching, silver wings out proud and fucking glorious—though he’s looking a bit worse for wear, with dark circles shading his eyes and his hair all dishevelled. Looks like he forgot to shave this morning, too.

  “Inside joke,” Drake says, eliciting a huff from Sol.

  Oh well, at least no heads are rolling. Yet.

  S
ol may look tired, but his wings are in fine fucking form. Extra shiny, the feathers smooth and streamlined, like they’ve been recently preened …

  Yeah, my wings pop out with that thought, flapping in the wind all fluffy and flirty.

  Sol wears a blank expression as he notes their little welcome dance. I roll my eyes, turning back to face the empty table. Traitorous twits, he obviously isn’t interested in them right now. Do they not know how to hold a grudge or take a hint? Their lack of emotional maturity is becoming tedious.

  Sol takes a seat opposite me and I roll my eyes for the second time in less than thirty seconds, choosing to focus on my hands clasped together in front of me, even though the sight of Sol coiled up on that tiny stool has me biting back a smile.

  Drake stands, picks up his seat like it’s a fucking pebble and plonks it down beside me. He then places his hand over mine, stroking my fingers with his thumb in smooth, comforting strokes.

  “You two seem pretty cosy …”

  I flinch at the cutting tone of Sol’s voice, feeling like I’ve done something wrong, even though Drake’s assured me I haven’t. I can’t see this conversation ending well—not with tension tightening the space with only two Sun Gods present.

  Aero flashes onto the seat next to Sol, his wings out, catching the mid-morning rays which highlight all the glorious undertones. He also looks as if he hasn’t slept all night, though I still bite my lip, dragging my eyes over him with a long, leisurely stroke.

  He may be in my sin bin, but my uterus can still appreciate a good meal.

  My wings spread themselves wider, trying to gain his fucking attention, succeeding only in fighting for space with Drake’s overextended wings.

  Aero smirks and Drake clears his throat, just as Kal lands on one of the two remaining seats, his black wings billowing about behind him.

  He also looks a bit tired, though it doesn’t detract from his sex appeal. My vagina does a little dance, hoping to lure him into her cave so my fertile womb can suck his penis dry.

  Closing my eyes, I try to stem my rogue hormones. Full squad here and my wings are stretched to full fucking wingspan, because they’re just as randy as my uterus now that all my Sun Gods are on one small island, on their tiny chairs, looking like four tasty snacks.