Page 55 of A Song of Saints and Swans
I didn’t get far—didn’t want to—before I was tackled from behind and taken to the ground. Roughly nudging my thighs wider, Konstantin entered me in one smooth thrust, bottoming out with a groan that I echoed with a ragged cry.
Covering my body with his, he propped himself up on his elbows and began a punishing rhythm, our skin slapping together and sounds of pleasure the only noises disturbing the descending twilight.
“I’m never letting you go again,” he growled in my ear, burying a hand in my hair to better hold me down. “If you try to hide from me—even if it’s at the bottom of the fucking Volga—I will find you, and bring you home.”
Home.
My orgasm barreled through me, taking me by surprise as grateful tears streamed down my face. “I love you,” I gasped, realizing I’d never told him while I was still alive, even though I knew it all along.
He deserves to be loved.
Konstantin groaned through his release, the sensation of him filling me up causing a second climax to ripple through me. Withdrawing, he lay on his back, gently rolling me over to tuck into his side. I caught my breath, gazing up at the stars twinkling into view, wondering how many nights we had left together, and praying I could be absolved for my mistakes.
As if sensing my regret, Konstantin softly kissed my forehead and pulled me more tightly against him. “I love you too, Margo. More than all the stars in Siberia.”
Maybe I deserve it too.
VASI POV
“Deeper, sweetness…please.”
I paused with the ambitiously large dildo halfway into Asa’s ass and glanced to my right. Tan paused from where he was lazily stroking himself on the other bed to shoot me a smile full of devilry.
“Oh, he can take it,” he purred, using his thumb to spread a tempting drop of precum over the head of his cock. “I seem to recall one particularly drunken night in Istanbul when I shovedtwosuch toys into Acey’s perfect peach. Do you remember that,Gueneshem?”
When Asa only groaned and dropped onto his elbows on the mattress, Tan continued. “I don’t believe I’d ever seen a man come that hard before…” His hazel eyes grew distant with the fond memories. “Naturally, it didn’t slow us down. I simply pulled one monster out and replaced it with my Turkish delight, and Acey took it like thegood boyhe is—”
“I swear on all that is holy, Tan,pleasestop talking,” Asa whined, his horns scraping against the fabric as he not-so-subtly wiggled his way backward. “I don’t want to come yet.”
“Ooooh,careful,my tasty piece ofbaklava,”Tan cackled, raising himself to his knees and gripping the base of his cock—ready to go when I was. “Vasi just got thesexiestlook of violence in her eyes at your bold use of the word ‘holy.’ Are youtryingto get yourself royally skewered—here in this holy landof American witches?”
My mischievous Rider wasn’t exaggerating. Asa’s begging already made my primal instincts roar to life, but the suggestion of anything ‘holy’ made pure darkness roil beneath my skin.
There’s nothing holy here.
Spreading my knees wider on the stacked cushions, I braced myself behind my Beautiful Sun, rallying more than enough supernatural force to make it deliciously hurt.
“FUCK!”Asa roared, hands gripping the hideous pumpkin-and-black-cat-patterned quilt beneath him as I slammed my hips against his ass and buried my borrowed cock to the hilt.
“Fuck, yes,” Tan growled, pumping furiously to match my increasing pace, an equally evil expression darkening his handsome face. “Make him explode for us,tutly juddah.”
With pleasure.
Claws lengthening, I dragged them down Asa’s flexing cheeks, causing blood to quickly bubble to the surface, pleasingly decorating his pale skin before dripping onto the bed like an offering.
The decor could use some improvement, anyway.
My three Riders had insisted on bringing me to Salem, Massachusetts, to fully experience how humans here celebrated what they called Halloween. I was not impressed. While there were traces of the old ways, there was a concerning number of odd hats andtchotchkesand a noticeable lack of sacrificial blood.
I’d agreed under one condition. We first took a detour to the graveyard where my mother was long-buried to celebrateDziady.Lighting a fire there twice a year—leaving a bowl ofkashaand honey and a newly woven shawl—allowed me to honor the woman who’d made me strong before dying far too young.
And thus my tale began.
“Vasi, Vasi, sweetness, yes, harder, please,” Asa was deliriously chanting beneath me, his knuckles white as he fought against the orgasm I could already feel thundering down his spine through our bond.
“I know you want to be good for your witch, my Beautiful Sun,” I crooned, using a single claw to carve a sigil on his back. “Why don’t you come on my cock like the good,goodboy I know you are?”
“Oh, fuck… Yes, Mistress…” he sobbed, his muscular body convulsing beneath me as he further defiled the quilt with his release.
