Page 28 of Gemini Hunted
One way to find out, Goblin King, she whispers through our bond. Her tone is mocking, hard to read, and I don’t entirely trust her in this mood.
But, through the link between us, her dragon purrs a welcome.
Still holding my queen’s challenging stare, I trail a hand down the sleek plane of my chest, feeling my nipples stiffen under my own teasing touch. My palm flattens along my abs, twitching with restless heat.
I’m still standing with my back to the room. But I’m the dominant alpha in this polycule.
By the time my fingertips trail along the exquisitely sensitive length of my cock in a slow stroke from base to tip, all my lovers are very much aware of what I’m doing.
Even the demon’s watchful presence next door sharpens to a sudden edge. He too is keenly aware of me, in a way I hadn’t anticipated, since my plan was never to mate him.
Well, let him watch. I rarely mind an audience.
When my own slick oozes from my swollen cockhead, I swipe my index finger through the mess, then bring it to my lips for a playful suck.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” Zara breathes on a moan.
I smirk around my finger at the naked craving in her face. Simultaneously, my free hand wraps around my aching dick in a long slow pull.
Dear fuck. I’m so hard I’m nearly bursting.
But I’m not moving an inch closer to my queen until I’m utterly certain I won’t be rebuffed, so she’s simply going to have to ask—
The soft thud of boots against the rain-hammered deck jerks my gaze from Zara’s lamplit reflection to the viewthrough the glass. Directly before me, a lithe body, clad in green dragonscale, rises swiftly from a crouch. A feral Fae face, divided by the slash of a green eyepatch, lifts alertly to find my startled features. Beyond, I catch a flash of pale belly as his massive dragon wings away.
Apparently, this reckless Fae leaped from dragonback—buffeted by gale-force winds—to the miniscule moving target of the master cabin’s private deck.
So much for loyal Ash, waiting patiently above at the helm like a faithful hound for his consort’s return.
Hand still wrapped around my throbbing cock, I huff out a wry breath.
Our new arrival’s jade eye sweeps over me and narrows on my length. His lips part to reveal his tiny Unseelie fangs. Then, more slowly, his gaze retraces the terrain of my body—inch by tingling inch—until he locks on my face. As torrents of rain plaster his green hair to his head and shoulders, his eyelid lowers in a slow blink.
Well, what else can I do? I deploy the lifted Romanov eyebrow with a sneer.
His jaw hardens and his lips press together. With an eerie burst of inhuman speed, the Dark Fae King fires into motion, opens the sliding door, and darts into the sanctum of our shared bedroom.
“I trust I don’t intrude at an awkward moment.” He spares a smirk at my prominent boner, sweeps the room with a keen stare that takes in Zara and Ronin—both his lovers, as the rest of us are not—then drops his wadded cloak onto a chair with a soft exhale that speaks (very subtly) of relief.
A gust of cool rain blows in with him to spatter my overheated body.
Irritably, I release my dick and slide the door shut behind Zephyr, His Moon-Dazzled Radiance, thelah-dee-dahDark Fae King…
And my deadly rival.
“Mmmm, just in time, Your Radiance,” Zara murmurs, still wrapped around Neo on the vanity bench. “We missed you, for real.”
“Not all of us,” I mutter,sotto voce, turning irritably to watch as Zephyr bends to toe out of his wet boots. I take a vicious pleasure in noting that Unseelie is dripping all over Theo Mercury’s Aubusson carpet.
The Dark Fae King, whose pointed ears possess extremely acute hearing, glances up with a mocking twist. “Pray don’t allow me to interrupt what you were just doing, Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov. Your need appears to be most… pressing.”
That single scornful look—encompassing my aching erection and dismissing my need with a shrug—makes me hum with rage. A vicious spike of temper, honed by arousal to a deadly point, spurs me swiftly across the carpet to loom over him.
Seemingly unconcerned by my proximity, the fool sheds one boot and shifts his attention to the other.
I glare down at his bent head, delicate ears exposed in a spill of wet green hair, the nape of his neck a sleek handspan of bare olive skin. The crossed swords strapped to his armored back form an X over his shoulders like a warning sign that readsDo Not Touch. His spicy-sweet scent of burnt amber and nutmeg invades my brain.
Invading his space in return, I rear over him like the pit viper they all call me.
