Page 30 of Gemini Christmas
His scars only make him sexier.
With a last lingering look at V thatreallymakes me long for the full frontal on our visiting Krampus, Zephyr prowls past the glowing miracle of the Christmas tree and bends—dark and intent with purpose—over the arm of the overstuffed leather couch.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I mutter. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I mean it. That placement is fuckinginspired.
Making the couch center stage gives me the full frontal of Zephyr I’ve been craving. The small secret smile he gives me through a spill of sleek green hair. And the rock-hard cock jutting eagerly from the lick of moss green pubes between his thighs.
He’s physically the smallest male in my harem. But you’d never know, based on the size of that third leg he’s rocking.
Vasili takes his time lubing his own dick, keeping his back to the room. In the beat of silence as the gramophone skips between tracks, the wet suck of V’s slowly pumping fist fills the throbbing silence.
Cheese. On. Toast.
As our dominant alpha, he likes to make us wait.
This time, the anticipation might literally kill me.
I ease the strain by threading my fingers between Ronin’s—still sprawled beside me on one elbow. I fit my hand around Ronin’s, so both our hands are wrapped around his dick. He’sa fire sign and he runs hot. So hot his dick shimmers like a burning coal under my fingers. The black flames of the dragon tattoo licking up his chest seem to dance in the flickering light.
I squeeze Ronin’s swollen shaft until it pulses against my palm, veins throbbing under drum-tight skin. Tenderly I sweep my free hand through the gleaming fall of his long black hair, sweeping it back to bare his tawny eyes and broody face.
Ronin smolders down at me, like the Adam Driver/Kylo Ren doppelganger of my teenage dreams. His gaze drops to linger on my breathless mouth.
“Don’t bloody start something you’re not ready to finish,” he growls, scowling down at me like the bully he used to be. “You and Max are already pumping out enough mating scent to blow my bollocks off.”
“Poor things.” With a sultry grin, I dip my hand between Ronin’s legs to cup the hot sac of his balls, drawn tight and bulging with need. Then I nudge his hand aside, tighten my fingers around his shaft, and stroke all those inches jutting between his corded thighs. “Anyway, who says I’m not ready?”
Slow and steady, I fist his impressive length, letting the heavy silver ring of his Prince Albert bump my knuckles on every upstroke.
“Blimey, love,” Ronin says on a groan, head falling back as his burning eyes turn lidded and heavy with pleasure. “I’m warning you. I’m too fucking close to edge tonight.”
“Who said anything about edging you, Adam?” I wink at Zephyr, who’s watching our byplay with the intensity of a cat tracking an unsuspecting sparrow.
Then I turn to fuse Ronin’s mouth with mine.
Ronin kisses me back like he’s starving, a fierce-open mouthed kiss that eats at my dessert-sticky lips. His slick tongue surges into my mouth, tasting like apple pie and whiskey. His skin smells like ambergris and sin. His hard hand engulfs mychin to hold me in place and deepen the kiss. His hair, sweet with bergamot, spills over my face like a silk curtain.
Down below, Max snarls against my pussy like the rutting dragon he is.
Under long strokes of Max’s tongue, delving ruthlessly down the hot slick folds of my slit, my snatch is clenching and aching to be filled. Pumping out his mating scent of leather and brimstone, Max laps up the copious juices seeping from my cunt like he’s dying of a thirst only I can quench.
Then his hot mouth locks around my pulsing clit andsucks.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus in the manger.
Every erg of sensation in my entire body rushes to swirl around the divine suction engulfing my clit. My first big O thunders over me like an avalanche.
Electrifying pleasure pours through every synapse of my body and arches my back from the floor. A shrill cry, edged and echoey with the lightning voice, spirals up my throat and bursts from my lips. My heels dig into the bearskin rug. A rush of staticky sparks makes my scalp tingle and my hair float around me in a teal cloud.
Under the pump of my insistent fist, Ronin’s already impressive boner twitches and pulses. Hard and focused, chasing his own climax with single-minded purpose, he fucks into my fist and groans curses into my breathless mouth.
The final coda of my own first O still lingers in the air, voiced by my soft whimpers. I’m vibrating with aftershocks and quivering like a plucked guitar.
Yet Max—bless that dragon for never losing focus—spreads my trembling thighs still wider. He pins me to the rug like a butterfly in a display case, then crawls into place and rubs his rigid length along the yielding folds of my pussy. I have maybe a second to appreciate the turgid stiffness of that probing dickbefore my dragon king’s cock lodges in my pulsing hole, then plunges deep into my slippery depths.
Max slides home inside me, deep and long, on a hoarse cry.
