She felt his bruising grip tight across her ass, with his calloused hands wrapping around to hold her in place.
Forced to ride an earth lord’s big cock and fanged by the fire prince that fisted her hair, so she couldn’t escape, Jill felt herself react.
They pushed her towards climax, with the magic-high from priming still sparking in her blood. It was such a volatile combination.
A growl against her neck, coming from deep within Victor’s chest, was finally her undoing.
She cried out his name, then Alexander’s, with her hips jerking in the firm hold Alexander had on them.
The waves of climax seemed to ebb endlessly, smaller and smaller, but never quite stopping.
She shivered as Victor’s soft touch along her clothed back pressed cooled sweat against her skin, triggering another aftershock of pleasure.
“Going to lick you clean and take my feed,” Alexander said, pulling her by her hips up his body.
Victor released her neck from his fangs, tonguing the bite closed.
“Will you let me ease Alexander as he feeds, so we all may rest well sated?”
Jill nodded, then asked, “How?”
“I’m going to touch him sexually, Jill. I know humans are less free with their affections, but in Maerenian harems, such boundaries are more flexible. Taking our cocks into your body right now is going to be too much for you.”
Alexander didn’t seem to have any input one way or the other. He’d already gotten Jill straddled over his face and was licking a hot stripe up her pussy.
It felt amazing, but suddenly, she realized they weren’t going to be doing anything about her viginity today.
“I want to be fucked!” she demanded, feeling as if they were rejecting her. “I thought I wasn’t being punished.”
Victor’s hand found its way back into her hair, fisting near the scalp.
“You were serviced by me and Alexander is going to ensure you are left without a doubt that your males are capable of keeping your pussy satisfied. We don’t need to break you upon our cocks to prove it. I’m pleased that you released during my bite easier this time. Let’s not greedily push your body for more gifts.”
“Witches fuck all the time. I’m—it’s embarrassing to be a virgin at my age,” Jill protested.
“No, it’s a gift. Your body has been allowed the time that it needs to fully enjoy the experience, when it happens. Let us first deal with the barriers in your mind to your pleasure before breaching the physical ones,” Victor said.
He shocked her by smacking her ass with his free hand.
It echoed in the room and Jill moaned.
Alexander sucked her clit into his mouth.
Victor spanked her again on the other cheek.
“That’s for saying ‘fuck’ twice, when I know it bothers yours sensibilities. You did it for shock value. I’m going to jerk our cocks now to release over your bottom. When I do, you’ll rub our cum onto your spanked cheeks and thank us both for servicing you, or else, we’ll see how you fare over Alexander’s knee. His hands are big and strong, Jill.”
Victor released her hair with that warning.
Alexander groaned against her pussy, releasing his sucking pressure as he shifted his body underneath her.
Another smack sounded, but this time Jill hadn’t been the recipient.
Alexander returned his mouth to her pussy. His muffled groans made her desire ramp up, knowing he was fighting back his climax, so she would release again first and he could feed.
She imagined what Victor was doing to him to make him squirm under her, listening to the noises Alexander made as the sound of wet friction and Victor’s harsh breaths left her wanting to take a peek.
“I’m close,” she told Alexander, arching her hips. She began to ride his face on her own.
“Bite her thigh before her climax. See if you can train her to feel only pleasure with fangs,” Victor said, never pausing his brutal cocktease behind her.
It sounded like Victor was fisting them both—hard and fast—his hand smacking onto their groins with each stroke that left Alexander shuddering under him.
With a groan, Alexander thrust his hips up into Victor’s grip, then turned his mouth to tongue the inside of one of her thighs.
Fingers pinched her clit unexpectedly, hiding the bite for a moment, until all she felt was her climax riding her down hard on Alexander’s cheek, her throbbing pussy rubbing his rough chin.
Release from the males quickly followed, spurted onto her ass, almost burning hot from Victor and a more soothing warmth from Alexander.
She didn’t know how she could tell the difference between them, but there must be a little of their magic in the fluids.
She moved her hands back and rubbed her bottom, appreciating that there was the barest tenderness from where Victor had spanked her.
Alexander sucked hard on her thigh.
She shuddered against him and then leaned forward, giving Victor a good view of the vampire feeding so intimately from her.
Victor scooped some of the combined releases from her skin and pushed it inside of her vagina with two thick fingers. He fucked her with them, until she whined incoherently, thrusting back.
“That’s a sexy mewl,” Victor praised her. “You’re lucky we’re spent.”
Alexander released her thigh from his fangs, licking his bite closed. “What did the prince tell you to say to us?”
“Thank you for your service, sirs,” she answered.
“Very nice,” Victor said. “Now lower your skirts, so you can sleep with our cum soaking your sweet ass and thighs. I want you to feel us on you even after you’ve bathed. The magic will sink into your skin.”
“You already put it inside of me,” she said, doing as he asked.
Alexander pulled her back down his body, angling on his side, so she could lie on her back in the bed between him and Victor, who made his way up the bed.
Victor pressed his fingers against her lips.
She opened her mouth and sucked the combination of all of their releases from his fingers.
“Our cum inside your sheath will prepare you to better receive us,” Victor told her.
She squeezed her thighs together.
“When?”
“Soon,” Victor answered. “You weren’t the only one feeling punished by the prolonged wait.”
Somehow that made her feel better about what Victor had put her through. He’d suffered, too. More importantly, he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.
Enemies at Hand
Phillip
Every healer in the castle was present.
Phillip bared his teeth in a broad smile as he took in the faces of his enemies.
One of them meant him harm, at least, according to the dragon.
Geer had also advised Phillip to steer clear of all healers for his safety.
As if Phillip would let his newly found mate deal with the danger, while he locked himself up in the throne room to stay out of harm’s way.
“Who is the poisoner?” Phillip asked, getting straight to the point.
He glanced at as many of the shocked faces as he could after posing his query.
William shot up from his seat beside Phillip.
“I thought you wanted to pool the healers together to discuss setting up a casualty team!” he loudly announced, speaking over the many voices that had started murmuring.
“We do need to prepare for battle in case the traitors we’ve declared come back to fight for the throne. I merely wanted to ensure that we don’t employ any poisoners on the team,” Phillip said.
The voices all started murmuring again.
Some of the servants were eying Phillip up like he’d gone crazy. William appeared to be the clear headed one, next to him.
“Poison is what killed the witch who murdered the king. Whoever committed the act ought to be rewarded, not singled out for exclusion from important castle duties,” William argued.
�
�So, you don’t have any problem with me asking for the identity of the poisoner as long as I pay them for the murder?” Phillip asked.
William sputtered.
Phillip was being outrageous on purpose.
Yes, some might think he’d cracked a bit under the pressure of ruling the kingdom at this time of upheaval.
Only the real poisoner would know he was guilty of more than the witch’s murder and that Phillip had finally figured things out.
He’d had help, but none knew of Elizabeth’s visits—either of them. Phillip had made sure to clean up all of the evidence with his own hands.
William finally stopped sputtering and sat back down on his chair, sighing.
“Go ahead. Ask them. Do you want me to truth tell them as you question?”
Earth-witches could sense vital functions like heart rate and blood pressure. Some of the best could even sense brain waves in a crude manner, like sleeping activity from awake. It seemed more myth than truth that the best could tell a lie by subtle changes in these functions.
It was more likely the pressure of being questioned while an earth-lord held a liar’s hands that made them confess their guilt.
The common person believed in the power of lie detecting.
“Naturally, I would like you to help detect the lies. Why else would I have asked for you to come? Surely, not to question you, too,” Phillip joked.
William coughed before letting out a weak laugh. His brother wasn’t really amused.
“Water, please. This is going to prove to be a long, arduous day,” William said, calling for one of the servants they were to question to fetch him refreshment.
“We can accomplish two tasks at once and pick a casualty team from the interviewees,” Phillip proposed.
“Quiet please!” William yelled to the group, ignoring his brother. “We will have order while we carry out the questioning as your king demands. Anyone not cooperating will be subject to a fine and the loss of a finger from their magic dominant hand.”
Phillip arched a brow at his brother.
The entire room silenced.
Martial law, which included beheadings and chopping off digits, was rarely employed outside of military purposes.
“Thank you, William. Let’s start with the far left of the room. First row.”
“I wouldn’t hurt a mouse,” the crotchety old man who stood first told the room.
He gave Phillip an audacious wink and chewed on his mouthful of tobacco.
“You are the castle rat-poisoner,” Phillip calmly stated after checking his list.
“Exactly, nary a mouse. Killing rats, now that’s a different potion. If you don’t know the difference, should you be leading the questioning?” the old man asked.
William stood.
“A king learns to adapt,” Phillip said before his brother could voice an order to arrest the harmless man for insubordination.
William’s lips pursed.
“Come, sit in my chair. I’ll put my hands on your shoulders as you face your king and answer his questions truthfully. Even think one more wrong word and I’ll wring your neck before it passes your lips,” William said.
Phillip also stood, waiting for the old man as he took his seat in William’s chair. It was like Phillip was standing guard over his surprisingly harsh brother.
As Phillip retook his own seat, he questioned the wisdom in forcing this confrontation.
All he had learned so far was that William had more brute earth-attitude than he’d realized, especially for a scholarly focused prince.
Also, the servants of the castle now knew Phillip couldn’t save them all. The end was nigh for their kingdom.
The one witch that could save them, skipped through his dreams and disappeared between his fingers, the hope she provided as insubstantial as the wind.
“Start your questioning,” William prompted.
William’s impatient order had Phillip looking up at his brother when he started questioning the old man.
“Tell me how to poison a rat.”
The smile on William’s face was brief, but it sent chills down Phillip’s spine.
Earth-magic was too dark for his tastes.
Healers could so easily be turned into killers. Medicine changed into a poison.
What stood between good and ill intent was the soul that wielded the earth-magic.
Phillip looked back at the old man.
He wasn’t smiling, but he did chew that wad of tobacco, looking uncomfortable, as if he badly needed a tureen to spit into.
The man swallowed his saliva and talked around the wad.
“You start by grinding strychnine seeds to release the poison from the shells. Bait the powder and feed it to the rats. They’ll dance like the finest ballerinas, arching and stretching until their spines pop, their muscles controlled by their painful guts.”
Phillip cleared his throat. It sounded horrific.
He knew some poisons bled a body out, but spasms until one broke one’s own spine was an equally terrible way to die.
“What is the antidote?” Phillip asked.
The old man shifted the wad in his mouth.
“None. Kills vampires and witches well, too. Suppose it kills mice, but we spell the bait to make it into a potion first to keep others safe. No earth-lord worth his salt would be reckless enough to make a poison without the target spelled.”
“But accidents—”
The old man cut Phillip off, his hand wiping across his mouth.
“Bah. There are no accidents.”
“Thank you. Next, please,” Phillip said.
Cold sweat trickled down Phillip’s spine.
No accidents?
How many times had Daemon been poisoned, and then, their father?
Now Phillip sat on the throne, another target for poison.
Beware of healers?
The prophet didn’t need foresight to know that Phillip’s death would likely pass through his own lips first.
An old woman sat down.
Phillip checked his list. The rat poisoner’s wife. She was a cook.
“What is the last dish that you made for the king?” Phillip asked.
The woman crossed her legs, and leaned back. William’s hands were heavy on her shoulders.
“I made you a dozen apple tarts, but you didn’t eat one, sending the whole tray back.”
Phillip had been burdened with a queasy stomach after Geer’s warning. Sweets could hide a great many bitter poisons.
“I meant for my father,” Phillip corrected.
“Nothing. I cooked for Prince Daemon, afore he left. Replaced the string of easily bribed wenches that the consort hired to make your oldest brother’s meals. Your late father hired me himself.”
William’s hands tightened on her shoulders.
“Are you accusing the consort of arranging poisonings?”
“Nay,” the cook denied. “I’m saying she hired inferior cooks.”
Daemon’s poisonings had stopped.
Phillip smiled.
“I want you as my cook. Do you think you can make—?” He broke off and leaned closer, so he could whisper, “That is to say, I would like some snowball cookies.”
The cook returned his grin as he backed away again.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Thank you. Next, please.”
William cracked his knuckles as the cook left.
A much younger woman took her place.
Phillip checked his list: healer.
“I didn’t poison anyone. I only started here a few days ago,” the girl said in a rush.
William hadn’t put his hands around her shoulders.
“I hired her. We do need stronger healers to help the casualty team. Besides, she’s open to a harem position,” William said.
Phillip flicked his gaze up to William.
Was he asking to have a harem and this witch was to be the first member?
“Fine. A good earth-harem has been
lacking at the castle,” Phillip said.
The girl bowed her head.
“Thank you, King Phillip.”
He nodded and gave her permission to leave.
Someone else took her place.
Glancing at his interrogation list, Phillip’s vision blurred at the names, each one blending into the next.
Poison was a coward’s weapon. It was an undignified way to go, compounded by the offence of falling for such old tricks.
This list contained the name of his enemy.
Even if Phillip didn’t figure out who it was today, the enemy would know that Phillip was close to identifying him or her.
Whether Phillip succumbed eventually or captured the poisoner first, it was better than doing nothing.
He had something worth fighting for now. His mate needed to be brought home.
The court would no longer harbour those who sought to tear it apart from the inside.
The poisoners were about to be force fed their own medicine.
Phillip looked into the eyes of a middle-aged earth servant with a crooked nose. The list confirmed that he was a gardener.
“How do you deal with the pests eating your crops?” Phillip asked.
The man licked his lips and then detailed some awful pesticides with their effects, as the rat-poisoner had done.
“Thank you. Next, please.”
William cracked his knuckles again.
Phillip sighed and leaned back in his chair.
Another took a seat.
“This is tedious,” William complained.
“There are two ways out of this room, William. Confession or be proved innocent,” Phillip said.
He’d meant it as a warning to the servants, lords, and ladies waiting to be questioned.
William flinched as if Phillip had directed the challenge to him personally.
“Or through you,” William quipped.
Phillip curled his lip and let out a low growl.
“Do let them try. Father didn’t make me his heir because he thought I’d falter with the first challenge.”
William frowned, then straightened out his features.
“Of course, Phillip. I merely tire of all of this—” William waved his hands around. “—circus. You are a lion, but on display in a gilded cage set at centre stage.”
Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3) Page 36