Page 68 of The Huntsman's Heart
The desperation in his tone jolts me from the trance and I gasp. On instinct, I reach for the vessels again but my mind slips away, unable to grasp hold of anything. I’m trembling so badly that Alaric scoops me into his arms. The look on his face is stark.
I probably pushed myself too far, but I must. If I don’t act soon, too much is at stake. And I must keep working harder. I cannot rely on having him there to help me.
It feels strange now to rest. I haven’t rested so much since I died. After only a few hours in bed, I am restless. Alaric hovers, chiding me with scowls if I move or sit. One by one my gargoyles finish their tasks and come to sit watch over me too. Even the hounds curl up on the end of the bed. It seems I am the only one who cannot stand being idle.
Finally I throw back the covers with a huff. “I cannot just do nothing!”
“You must rest. You overtaxed yourself.”
I fold my arms over my chest and glare at Alaric. “Then come to bed and make it worth my while.”
“Princess.”
“I mean it. All of you.” The bed is large enough to fill half the generous room and would easily fit us all. I pat the mattress, and Raban’s face lights up with his usual grin.
He climbs onto the bed immediately. “Done.”
The others join him soon after. All except Alaric, who is still standing scowling down at us all.
Ignoring him, I pull Raban into my arms and welcome the others as they join him.
“You should be resting,” Alaric mutters.
I see the longing look he casts at us as I drag Corvin in to kiss Raban, who is nestled between my legs. I love the little moans Raban makes while Corvin slicks his tongue into his mouth and bites his lip. I reach up to pinch Corvin’s nipples and he gasps. Évandre crawls closer so I can take his cock in my hand and stroke it slowly, still watching the other two.
Alaric is still hovering. I don’t know why he is still holding back. “Come here,” I call to him.
He sighs. “You are not going to listen to my advice, are you?”
I laugh. “I am fine. Stop worrying. Come and fuck these pretty holes with me or else I shall be forced to do it all myself.”
I knew that would work.
He tugs his shirt over his head and is naked a moment later, dropping his trousers to the floor. His cock is hard, jutting out from his body and revealing how much the scene has already excited him.
“Start with my sweet Raban,” I tell Alaric, who moves onto the bed behind my gorgeous gargoyle. “Do you want him?” I ask Raban.
I love the look of hunger in his eyes as he glances behind to take in the sight of Alaric kneeling over him then looks back at me. “Yes.”
My pussy grows so wet thinking about how it will feel for him when Alaric slides his big, hard cock into Raban’s tight hole, thatby the time I push his head down between my thighs I can feel a trickle of moisture slide through my lower lips.
Raban groans as his tongue swipes up my ass and inner thigh, catching the slick, making his way up to the source. Then again when Alaric grips his hips and positions himself ready to take my pretty boy.
“Be gentle with him,” I tell Alaric.
I expect him to complain. Instead his expression grows serious—tender almost. He strokes a hand down Raban’s back, between his feathered wings. “Of course, princess. He is too beautiful to be otherwise.”
I’m surprised, but as I watch Alaric touch him lovingly, I realize I’m holding to a perception of Alaric that is obsolete. He is not the monster I once thought he was. There is far more tenderness and self-awareness there.
Above me, Évandre and Corvin lean in to kiss, putting their cocks within my reach. I hold them together, loving the swell and twitch of the two hard members in my hands and the way they thrust and slide against each other in my grip.
Raban’s hands tighten on my hips. He lifts his head from my pussy, and I look down to see his mouth fall open and his eyes roll back in his head as Alaric pushes into him. He gasps as Alaric works further inside his ass. My pussy throbs as I remember how pleasurable it felt to be filled like that.
“Does it feel good?” I ask him.
He whimpers, too consumed with it to answer.
Alaric twists a hand into Raban’s hair, lifting his head further, forcing the slimmer male to arch his back. “Our princess asked you a question. How do I feel inside you?”
