A Lady of Rooksgrave Manor (Tempting Monsters Book 1)

by Kathryn Moon

  I laughed and fell under the spell of the motion. The rhythm of fucking, the sounds of Ezra's grunts and groans mingling with the swelling music Amon had put on, Booker's thighs trembling like a little earthquake in my grip. No one was teasing me with their touches, trying to drive me into oblivion again, I was just being taken by two of my men.

  Except of course they had a plan, these wicked gentlemen.

  The touch was cold on my clit, the briefest warning, and then I was shouting on Booker's cock as the buzzing reverberated into my cunt. The vibrating machine.

  I thrashed, trying to escape and arch into the sensation at the same time. Ezra and Booker both tightened their holds, Booker saving me from accidentally choking on him and Ezra…

  "Christ, shit, I can fucking feel that straight in my balls!" Ezra's thrusts grew frantic, as tormented and delighted by the vibration as I was.

  "It doesn't hurt her?" Amon asked.

  "Not in a way she doesn't like," Jonathon said, voice turning a little gritty.

  I came with a scream, Booker shuddering and then pulling away, dropping to his knees and bending over me to swallow my whimpers with his kisses, tongue a gentler version of the cock I'd sucked. I drew on it too, and Booker's hands slid down to squeeze my breasts briefly.

  I pushed myself up on my elbows, panting at the sight of the vibrator burning and buzzing against me, my men gathered around me to watch me come on Ezra's invisible cock. My eyes squeezed shut and my head fell back as Jonathon twisted and rolled the head of the machine over my clit, urging me to another climax as Ezra's bucking grew frantic and erratic.

  "Fuck, puisín, wanna feel you gushing on my cock again," Ezra panted. "Make that pretty little pussy of yours soak me well."

  Booker's arm slid under my shoulders as my strength gave out, my hands flying to clutch onto the others as if they could keep me from flying the height they drove me to. Jonathon's hand pressed to my stomach, forcing me to ride through the sudden biting pressure of my next orgasm, Ezra's shout strangled as we crashed at the same peak in the same moment, bodies colliding and straining together through the ecstasy.

  I groaned with relief, collapsing as Jonathon pulled the bulb of the machine away at last, Ezra leaning down to rest his brow against my breasts, breath panting damply onto my skin.

  "Oi, watch it, I'm still here!" he said, shifting on top of me.

  I lifted my head weakly and laughed at Jonathon's grin, his hands feeling around on what must've been Ezra's ass.

  "Time's up, mate," Jonathon teased, and I released a peal of giggles at the smacking sound of Jonathon's palm against Ezra's ass and Ezra's resulting yelp as he rolled away, nipping my breast in a goodbye.

  "Tired yet, mon coeur?" Auguste asked, kissing my brow and pushing away sweaty strands.

  I wasn't tired, but I was feeling especially sated and lazy there on the platform. But one look up into Auguste's blacked-out eyes had me pushing up on wobbly arms, turning to crouch in front of him on the platform, my ass on offer to Jonathon.

  "Not yet," I said, tipping my lips up for Auguste's kiss. He'd undressed in the quiet, and he climbed up onto the platform with me, Jonathon close at my back, the pair of them enfolding me in their limbs, mouths shifting to share my shoulders between them.

  I turned my throat for Auguste to suck on, finding Amon still watching from the border of the platform. He'd shed his shirt and the firelight was stunning on his skin, shimmering over the golden fur that gleamed, not an illusion but not quite a disguise of what he really was either.

  I arched, and Auguste ducked to my breasts, drawing me up onto his lap and stroking his cock against my soaked sex.

  "Does it make you jealous?" I asked Amon, my eyes fluttering shut as Jonathon started to touch and stroke my ass.

  "No, my star," Amon said, and I forced my eyes open to be sure he wasn't lying for my sake. He looked a little surprised, pacing around the edge of the platform as he watched the men sharing me. "Not jealous. Amazed. Honored. This is right, you know," he said, nearly whispered, stopping by my side and reaching out briefly to stroke my cheek, my body leaning into the touch. "A queen should have her consorts."

  My breath hitched, and then Auguste was pulling me down onto his length at the same moment that Jonathon fit a finger into my ass, a tease of what was to come. I moaned, wrapping an arm around each of them, and let myself sink under the haze of the moment, discovering rare patience to ride the wave up with them, already eager to crash against the shore again.

  I was senseless, moving more under the command of the massive hands holding me than any directive of my own. Mr. Tanner had me in his embrace, my back to his chest, my fingers tangled weakly in his hair, as he fucked me up and down his cock, exposing me to the gazes of the others.

  Amon was glowing in front of the fireplace, hands clenching and unclenching as he watched, cock already stiff, and I watched him only half aware of myself.

  "Little girl," Mr. Tanner growled in my ear.

  I whimpered and tipped my head, pressing my forehead to his jaw as he picked up the pace, driving himself into me.

  "The sphinx grows impatient for you."

  "Yes," I gasped.

  I'd traveled back into that hollow, dizzying space in my head again, the whole world quiet even as flesh slapped wetly together, my voice high and breathy with whines.

  "Do you want him to fuck you too?"

  "Yes, yes, I want Amon too," I cried, and Mr. Tanner's arm tightened around my chest, keeping me from launching myself senselessly in Amon's direction.

  "Then be a good little girl and come on this cock."

  I moaned, tears springing in my eyes. Everything was dense and full of pressure, it felt wonderful, but so distant too, and I didn't know how I could find my way out of the fog.

  Mr. Tanner paused his use of me, taking my hands gently from his hair, and moving them down to rest on his knees. He was sitting on the platform with me on his lap, my shins a little numb from the position, and moving me into the new position let him sink deeper, drawing out my moan.

  "Ride me, Esther. Fuck yourself."

  "She's too weak," Amon growled.

  "She's not, she's lazy," Ezra answered.

  I gritted my teeth and glared at the man, but his teasing did the trick and I pushed down on Mr. Tanner's knees, dragging myself up and down his length, my eyes rolling shut at the stroke and glide of him inside of me.

  Crack!

  I gasped, and suddenly the world was vivid again, the pain of the smack on my ass suddenly bringing me to life.

  "Yes! Again, please, sir," I cried, riding urgently, the pain blooming into a familiar ache of pleasure.

  "Say thank you," Mr. Tanner said, and then down came his hand on my ass with a shocking sound but a gentle bloom of heat.

  "Oh god, thank you, sir!"

  Each spank interrupted my pace, and each one drove me higher. Amon came to stand directly in front of me, watching the scene with a gaze that was pure gold, the color boiling in his pent-up arousal. His cock was high and weeping, the head already slightly swollen and curving with his hook, and I wanted to lean forward and lick it, but he was too far away.

  Crack!

  "Ahh, I'm so—Yes, yes, thank you, sir!"

  Mr. Tanner chuckled and repeated the smack, my voice stuttering, teeth digging into my lip. Amon's thumb drew it free again, and I sucked on the digit, moaning around his flesh as he stroked it over my tongue until Tanner spanked me again.

  "Oh, fuc—Thank-thank fuck!"

  Tanner and Amon grabbed me as I came, thrashing and crumpling, and I didn't even notice as they passed me between them.

  The platform was cool under my cheek, my nails scratching against the glossy finished fabric. Amon had bent my legs beneath me, and his hands lifted my ass high.

  "You are beautiful, my star. A wonder."

  He had watched it all, every single touch between me and the others, had witnessed my pleasure with them until I was too weak to move. And then—
<
br />   I sighed with soft relief as Amon slid easily into me, bending to cover my back, the velvet of fur on my sweaty skin.

  "Yesssss," I breathed, unable to do more than bear him inside me. Maybe in a moment, after I'd caught my breath, I would—

  Amon's hips snapped, fast and ferocious, his hands taking my shoulders to brace me, and my breath was gone again, stolen in the fury of movement.

  "Ahh, yes! Moooore!"

  "You will have more, my star, more than you ever imagined," Amon gasped, teeth scratching over the back of my neck, tongue licking there. "More than I can give you alone. Just as it should be."

  I reached one shaking hand back and wrapped it around his thigh, digging my fingers into the flexing muscle, feeling the power of him and letting it drown me.

  "All you should wish for," Amon hissed in my ear. "And then more."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Smolder and Smoke

  It was like waking from the grave, my body determined not to be disturbed. Auguste's kisses were insistent and soft, dropping over every inch of me until, finally, I was aware enough to open one eye.

  "Mm."

  He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. "I am going back to Rooksgrave for my dayrest. I will see you tonight, mon coeur."

  "Why not stay?" I mumbled, reaching for him and not finding him near. "Auguste?"

  But there was no answer, and I had no will to fight the sleep calling me back.

  Hours moved drowsily into morning, and eventually—with a little jostling from either side of me—I woke between Amon and Booker. I had a foggy memory of being washed off and carried to bed the night before, but the details of the room were lost until now.

  The pillows were airy, the sheet over me silky, and the contrast between Amon and Booker's temperatures kept me wonderfully comfy. The ceilings above us were bright and high, and the men around me hummed as I stretched on the enormous mattress before sitting up. Sunlight was streaming in through tall windows lining one wall, shrouded with gauzy curtains that did nothing to shade the room.

  Jonathon's face was buried in pillows on the other side of Amon, and there was an Ezra dent in the bed near Booker.

  "Good morning, little star," Amon said, and I shivered at the sleepy growl in his tone. "Cold?"

  His hand pressed sunny heat into my skin as he stroked it up my back, and I shook my head in answer, eyes searching the room.

  "She's just not quite awake yet, are you, puisín?" Ezra mumbled, flickering into view on the bed.

  "Auguste left," I mumbled, squinting out the window, remembering the barely conscious goodbye kisses from my vampire.

  "His spot at Rooksgrave is more secure. We discussed it last night," Amon said. "How are you feeling?"

  I stretched again, grinning in satisfaction as my back cracked wonderfully. I vividly recalled all we'd done the night before, had the phantom mouths and hands and cocks still echoing on my skin, and yet my body was…

  "Shouldn't I be sorer than this?" I asked, blinking.

  "The oil we used in your massage would've prevented it," Amon answered, his arms moving back to prop his head up, sleepy grin victorious.

  I answered his grin with my own. "Mmm, that is very good news."

  I'd expected to suffer a little after all of last night's 'celebrating,’ but the most I felt was a pleasant awareness. The only really sore spot was the bite mark on my inner thigh from Auguste. I reached down to press the mark, my eyes drifting back out the window.

  "You miss him," Booker said.

  I blinked, returning to the room, finding Jonathon rolling onto his back with bleary eyes and a lazy smile on his lips.

  "Already?" Amon asked, brow furrowing.

  "It's just knowing that he can't be with us, I think," I said softly, trying to pinpoint that sense of missing something, having a puzzle piece out of place.

  Amon hummed, frowning up at me, and his focus seemed as distant as my own. Thoughtful rather than disappointed in me. "I can prepare a better resting place for him here," Amon said.

  I nodded and placed a smile on my lips. It was a kind offer, even if it didn't solve the fact that Auguste had to spend all of daylight locked away from me. Maybe I was being unreasonable. I had the others. He was there at night.

  Jonathon chuckled and sat up as well, finally reminding me that I had four very handsome and undressed men in bed with me.

  "I don't know if you had grand plans for our day, Amon, but our lady might be cheered if she were back at Rooksgrave near our missing member," Jonathon said.

  I bit my lip, fisting my hands in the sheets and not wanting to offend Amon by agreeing, but he only combed his fingers through his hair with one hand and reached for one of mine with his other, drawing my knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

  "Easily managed. We return to the manor."

  I sighed and beamed at him, twisting to hover above him, pressing kisses over his brow and then scrambling away before he could draw me into his arms.

  "Who's dressing me this morning, then?" I asked.

  The bed was empty with a few grunts and many flailing limbs. Booker caught me first, although I suspected he cheated based on Ezra's grunt and Amon's suddenly stubbed toe.

  Auguste had sent the carriage back to Amon's house—even more impressive and gleaming by daylight—after returning to Rooksgrave, and we were piled in together, halfway back, when Amon stiffened.

  Ezra had my bare feet on his lap, my back leaning against Jonathon's chest, and I caught the sudden glow in Amon's gaze, the tick in his jaw. There was a ruffle of feathers, as if his wings were fighting to burst free.

  I sat up, reaching for him, and Amon flinched at my touch before settling again, covering my hands with his, black claws where his fingernails should've been.

  "Something is wrong, my star," Amon said, staring at me without seeming to see me. "I need to fly."

  "Fly? But—Oh!"

  Amon pushed my hands away, reaching for the carriage door and throwing himself out, feet not even touching the ground before great dark wings bloomed out behind him, beating once and drawing him up into the air.

  "That's not exactly subtle," Ezra said, frowning and drawing the door shut, leaning forward to peer out its window.

  "He might have magic to conceal himself, I'm not sure," Jonathon answered, and he and I crowded with Ezra close to the window too.

  There was a dark shape up in the sky, but Jonathon might've been right because it looked more like a vulture or a hawk than my sphinx. My heart was racing at the sudden interruption, worry plucking dangerous thoughts out from the shadows of my own mind.

  "Was it his house or Rooksgrave?" I asked, continuing before anyone answered. "When Mary left, he knew things about her. Things he couldn't have known."

  "Sphinxes are a bit prophetic, or something like it," Jonathon said, catching my confusion and explaining. "They sometimes know of the future, like a prophecy. They have dominion over secrets, keeping them and revealing them."

  "It's Rooksgrave," Booker said, voice low and dreadfully calm.

  I'd been so busy searching the sky for hints of Amon's flight, it wasn't until Booker pointed to the horizon that I noticed the obvious answer to my question. Dark clouds rising from the usual morning mist. Smoke.

  "No. No! Auguste," I gasped, staring at the black haze growing just south of the village. I pushed for the carriage door, but Jonathon had already banded his arms around my shoulders.

  "You can't run there faster, Esther," he said softly, his arms tight with equal worry.

  Ezra knocked on the roof of the carriage, calling up to the driver for more speed, and the road grew suddenly bumpier than it had been on our patient drive of a moment ago.

  "What about the other girls and Magdalena?" I asked, struck with sudden anger over my uselessness, trapped in a carriage, traveling along a road like we might never arrive.

  Jonathon trembled around me, ducking his head and pressing his face to my throat. "Mr. Tanner won't fit in here with us, love.
We have to stay calm until we arrive and see what can be done."

  "But—"

  Ezra leaned forward, a little transparent as he captured my face in his hands and poured his focus into me. "Just hold tight, puisín. We'll be there in a moment."

  But the moment weighed between us like hours, the smoke in the distance growing taller, wider, but never quite closer. Jonathon was shaking, Mr. Tanner eager to break free and address the danger, and I put all my spinning anxiety into stroking my hands over his arms, holding onto him with the same intensity he held onto me.

  The smell of the fire snuck in through the cracks of the carriage doors, the horses leading us starting to whinny, our pace jerking. For a moment as we rounded a ridge in the valley, I thought Rooksgrave had been lost entirely, that Birsha had transformed it into this dark cloud, devoured it in one of his eerie illusions.

  And then one by one they appeared, small figures in pale nightdresses, standing at the edges of thick dark fog, staring up through the smoke to the burning bricks of the manor.

  Ezra and Booker were out of the carriage first and fastest, my cry to stop them strangled by Jonathon's grip on me. He carried me out, kicking and twisting, his arms growing thick and stretching at the seams of the white dinner shirt he'd worn the night before.

  "You're not stepping one precious foot into that place, little girl," Mr. Tanner growled out, replacing my doctor, his grip impossible to break but careful not to crush me no matter how I squirmed and fought.

  "Ezra! Booker!"

  I screamed for them as they ran into the churning waves of smoke pouring out of the shattered windows of the manor. Ezra's red hair twitched by the open black doorway of the manor, and then he and Booker were rushing inside. "Let me go!" I cried.

  "No."

  "Esther! Oh, Esther, there you are."

  Magdalena came running out of the smoke, wrapped in a dark robe, her hair tangled and loose over one shoulder, the ends singed. She had soot on both cheeks and hands, eyes bloodshot, and a bleeding cut over her collarbone.