Page 22 of Fangs & Freaks
Blackwell shoots me a sharp look, but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he steps closer, his dark eyes locked on Varys.
“We’re not here to judge,” Blackwell says, his voice low. “But if you’re going to put on a show, don’t half-ass it.”
Varys’ cheeks flush a deep crimson, but he doesn’t look away. Slowly, he resumes his movements, his hand sliding over his thick cock with a renewed purpose.
My control snaps. I cross the room in a few strides, dropping to my knees in front of him.
“You smell incredible,” I murmur, my hands gripping his hips. “Like something I want to devour.”
Varys shudders, his hand faltering. I bat it away, replacing it with my own, and he lets out a soft gasp as I take him in my hand.
Blackwell moves behind him in a flash, his hands sliding up Varys’ sides as he presses his lips to the curve of his neck. “Tell us, unicorn,” Blackwell whispers. “Have you been with a man before? A vampire?”
Varys freezes for a moment, caught between us, his breath coming in uneven gasps. His lips part, and the words tumble out in a soft, broken rush. “Yes—men. No vampire. Wait—a vampire woman.”
My grip tightens slightly, and I feel the tremor that runs through him at the action. His answer shouldn’t make me jealous—it’s ridiculous to be jealous—but the sharp sting is thereanyway, like the idea of someone else,anyone else,staking a claim on him cuts deeper than I want to admit.
“A vampire woman,” I repeat, unable to keep the sardonic edge out of my voice. “How interesting.”
Blackwell chuckles softly, his lips skimming up to Varys’ ear. “Was she anything like us?” he asks, his tone mocking but laced with curiosity.
Varys shakes his head, a quick, jerky movement that sends his curls tumbling. “No,” he breathes. His voice is barely audible now, heavy with arousal and something else—something like surrender.
I can’t resist the urge to press closer, my free hand gripping his hip as I lean in. His scent is overwhelming, that sweet-tart combination of cranberry and orange flooding my senses. My mouth is so close to his skin that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, hear the frantic pounding of his heart.
“Good,” I murmur, letting my breath fan over his pelvic bone. “Because you deserve better.”
Varys lets out a small, broken sound, and it’s like a spark igniting a powder keg. Blackwell’s hands tighten on his sides, and my grip on him becomes firmer, possessive. He’s caught between us now, and there’s no escape—not that he seems to want one.
“You’ll like this better than anything before,” Blackwell murmurs against his skin, his voice dripping with dark promise.
“And you’ll remember,” I add, my tone edged with something that feels dangerously close to a vow. “Because you’re ours now. Not hers. Not anyone else’s.Ours.”
At those words, Varys shudders violently, and a soft, fractured cry escapes him as he comes undone. His release spills over my hand, warm and slick. I chuckle low in my throat, savoring the sight of him breaking apart beneath our touch. Without hesitation, I bring my hand to my mouth, tasting him.His tart sweetness floods my senses, just as intoxicating as his scent. My tongue flicks out to savor every last drop, and I can’t stop my mind from wandering, wondering if his blood is just as divine.
A sharp whimper draws my eyes up, and what I see sends a jolt of heat through me. Blackwell has sunk his fangs into the tender flesh where Varys’ neck meets his shoulder, his jaw working as he drinks deeply. The sight is raw and primal, a claim as undeniable as the hunger coiled tight in my own chest.
Varys releases again with a choked cry, his body trembling as he surrenders to the intensity of it all. I wrap my hand back around his shaft, stroking slowly, deliberately. When he’s done, I lean forward and use my tongue to clean him. Not a drop is forgotten; I refuse to let anything of his go to waste.
When Blackwell finally pulls back, his lips and fangs stained crimson, he sticks out his tongue to lick the puncture wounds, sealing them shut.
“No, leave them. Let him wear our mark to show her he’s ours.” Warrick orders.
Varys’ knees buckle, and he collapses before me, trembling and utterly spent. His golden skin glows faintly in the dim light, and his wide eyes are glazed with a mix of pleasure and disbelief.
Blackwell wipes the corner of his mouth with a casual swipe of his thumb and smirks. “Now it seems we’ve marked you too,” he says, his voice deep and satisfied.
I meet Varys’ dazed gaze, brushing a damp curl from his forehead. My own voice is softer, but no less certain as I add, “Bloody Mary doesn’t get to take you. Not now. Not ever.”
Varys stares at me, his lips parting as if to speak, but all that escapes is a soft, shaky exhale. His chest rises and falls in rapid bursts, and his hands reach out instinctively, grasping at me like he’s searching for something solid to anchor him.
I let him. Because as much as I might hate admitting it, he’s not just ours because we’ve claimed him. He’s ours because he’s made us his, too.
Chapter Eleven
Bellonna
When I leftthe room they use for church earlier, I went to spy on my unicorn. Little did I know I would find him jacking off to the very mirror I appeared in, masked from his view. Watching him strokemycock made me ache to let my fingers slip through my now wet folds as I make myself feel the same as him. It’s all I can do to keep the veil in place, keeping myself hidden from view.
