Page 109 of Gemini Hunted
Secretly, I experience another unexpected twinge of… sympathy… perhaps even compassion… for this freakish half-shifter that I find deeply unsettling.
Fortunately, my darling Zara knows just what to do. She takes this bombshell (or should I say sex bomb? I snicker) of revelation fully in stride.
Without missing a beat, she says easily, “Okay, Aquaman. You have mating fever, I’m in heat, and V’s raging hard-on is poking me in the butt. Fair to say we’re up for the challenge.”
“Yeet.” The demon leers at both of us. “Imma try not to disappoint, for real.”
But I’m watching him too closely to be deceived by his juvenile Gen Alpha swagger.
Now that I’m alert to this creature’s little deceptions, I can read like newsprint, from the way his jaw unknots and the lines of strain ease around his eyes, his profound relief that we’re neither freaked out nor repulsed.
In fact, we’re the opposite.
Although, truly, he’s holding his breath to see if that changes.
Nimbly Zara scrambles to straddle the demon’s hips. Then she reaches beneath her, with both hands, for his dicks.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zara
“Sweet Jesus,” I whisper. “If I’m dreaming, donotwake me up.”
Straddling Mordred’s hips under my naked crotch, I’ve got both hands wrapped around his thick dicks, currently jutting between my spread thighs like he’s the yoke of a 747 twisting into a turn and I’m his pilot. Both his cocks are cola-can thick—especially the bigger one on top that doesn’t retract into the coital slit tucked above the plump fullness of his scrotum. I’m gripping a solid ten inches up top and a very respectable eight down below. Under all that velvety skin, his dicks pulse and swell against my fingers.
In fact, his entire body radiates heat like a burning ember. The copper skin stretched over slabs of pectoral muscle and the taut flex of six-pack abs is glistening with sweat.
That’s mating fever. He’s unwell. He needs this.
Just call me Florence fucking Nightingale.
I fist both dicks until the demon groans and writhes between my legs.
“Don’t be greedy, little queen,” V purrs in my ear. “I want some too.”
My snake’s cool fingers slip between my thighs from behind and close over what I’m already thinking of as Mordred’s back-door dick. Because the placement’s gonna be perfect for that,like the genital spur on one of Ruby Dixon’s yummy aliens inIce Planet Barbarians.
Only bigger.
Mordred grins lazily (but also kinda shyly, which is totally adorable) at me and at V, who’s peering over my shoulder. “No fighting, you two, for real. I got me enough baloney pony for both you cowboys to ride.”
I bite my lower lip around a grin.
“Well, darling,” V whispers in my ear, “are you ready to saddle up?”
Yee haw,my dragon queen purrs. Apparently, she’s highly into the concept of kraken sex. And God knows, I am here for it.
Our shared enthusiasm startles a fizz of laughter from Vasili andhisdragon through our mating bond. Aside from his trademark evil snicker, V rarely laughs.
When he does and it’s real, it means he’s happy.
Oh, hell to the yeah.
This sex demon with his hidden insecurities and double dicks might literally be the best thing that’s happened to all of us since we flew back from Avalon and landed in the fucking shitstorm of this Dean’s Challenge.
Literally. The best thing.
We’re adding this guy to the harem.
