Chapter 54 #2
Posey enters with a tray set with refreshments. She’s used to Lark in both his forms—and even naked, for he often shifts without a fucking care for who is around—and she barely glances his way. If I’m not mistaken, a selection of chocolate-covered mints are on the plate to one side.
She shows herself out, and Lark resumes his position by the door.
Atlas selects a treat, grips her hair lightly, and gives a gentle tug. “Would you like a mint, little red?”
She opens her mouth dutifully, and he just pops it right inside.
And I’m fucking mesmerized.
He brushes his thumb over her lips as she is eating it, and then he lowers his mouth to hers and kisses her. The kiss is lingering and soft. He’s smiling indulgently when he lifts his head.
Her eyes are wide as saucers, and locked upon his. She eats her sweet treat and swallows thickly.
Gods, I just want to smear one all over my dick and let her lick it all off.
Not very practical. It’ll probably crumble and make a fucking mess, but—fuck, I could make it work.
“Where were we?” Atlas says, returning to the fucking scroll.
Violet
Atlas goes back to the scroll and the update in Hotton Loe, but I don’t hear a word.
“Undo your pants and push them down to your knees.”
That jolts me out of my daze. My head tries to lift, but suddenly Atlas’s hand is firm against the back of my neck, holding my cheek against his thigh.
Fenix is no longer watching me, for he is staring at Atlas.
“Or you can leave,” Atlas continues, dropping the scroll he was reading onto his desk. “We are done with the report.”
“The fuck I’m leaving,” Fenix growls, already fumbling with his buckle.
My breathing turns erratic. My nostrils flare as the buckle comes undone. Fenix snaps the buttons open one by one and thrusts his pants to his knees. He pulls his white shirt away, exposing himself fully.
Lark sits up, claws scraping over wood, his ears pricked with interest. He doesn’t move from his position by the door, but he’s watching nonetheless.
A bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip of Fenix’s cock. The thick corkscrew ridges are already prominent. The scent of his arousal reaches me, and my belly takes a slow tumble, one that slides all the way down to my womb and leaves a pulse of arousal throbbing in my core.
I’ve been wet since I entered the room and Atlas first nodded at the cushion. But now I feel it trickling from me. Gushing, in a way it hasn’t done in many days.
Arousal. So fast and a little dizzying, how powerfully it affects me.
“Would you like to suck him off, pet?” Atlas asks. “Wrap your sweet lips around him? Take his seed into your mouth and deep into your belly?”
“Yes.” The word comes breathless and without hesitation.
“Good girl,” Atlas says.
And how his praise softens me.
Fenix’s eyes are stark and locked on me. I love his depth, his beauty, his unashamed carnality… the dark edge to his passion.
Atlas is restraint.
Fenix is not.
His tail sways from side to side. I think about how it felt against my body in the Sundial Chamber. The faint sting of it whipping me as he fucked me hard and fast.
“Go ahead, then, and take your cushion,” Atlas says. His thumb sweeps up the side of my throat before he takes his hand away.
I stumble inelegantly as I rise, taking the cushion with me. Atlas gathers my empty hand, rises beside me, and walks me over to Fenix. Fenix, whose eyes seem to be everywhere: on the sway of my naked breasts, on my throat, on my face, and finally, on the cushion in my hand.
“Go ahead,” Atlas says. “Place your cushion where you wish it. Kneel upon it, if that is what you choose to do. But know that while you may kneel for him—” His fingers stroke down the side of my cheek and across my chin. “—it is always us who serve you. Wholly, completely. Body, mind, and soul.”
His hand withdraws, but he doesn’t move back. He’s waiting. Waiting for me to choose.
My eyes are locked upon Fenix’s, and his upon mine. His fingers curl around the arms of the chair, and his cock flexes, pre-cum trickling down the shaft and pooling at his balls.
The cushion is on the floor. My knees hit it a moment later. His tail bounces lightly against my thigh, my forearm, then my shoulder before it slides down the side of my neck, over my clavicle, and brushes the underside of one breast with the furry tip.
My back arches.
His knuckles turn white around the arms of the chair. His tail brushes over my nipple, light and teasing, and then it falls away, lashing almost impatiently against Fenix’s thigh.
I’m aware of myself—of being the center of the room. Of Fenix restraining himself and how it costs him when he is the least restrained man I know.
Lark watches from one side of the room.
Atlas’s absolute attention on the other.
My right hand curls around the base of Fenix’s cock. Leaning forward, I press my cheek to the sticky shaft and breathe him in. Then I stick out my tongue and lick him from root to tip.
A contented sigh escapes me that deepens into a hum as I take the head and a good half of the length into my mouth.
“Fuck,” Fenix says gruffly—the chair creaks. “Fuck, that feels good.”
I swirl my tongue around the head and then suck him as deeply as I can.
His hips jerk forward. His tail lightly taps the side of my breast.
His taste is in my mouth—his scent is in my lungs.
I use both hands to stroke his length, wet from my leaking saliva. It is messy. Glorious. And I already know that he is close.
“Look at her kneeling for you,” Atlas says. “Is she not the most beautiful creature you have ever seen?”
“Absolutely stunning,” Fenix huffs out. “Gods—can’t hold back—going to come. Godsdamnit, I want this to last.”
But I want his seed more than my next breath. And care not if he wants this to last. Am I not his Queen? Is it not my right to take my dues? I want him to lose control for me. To empty into me, just as Atlas said. Deep into my belly.
I take him yet deeper now, my head bobbing, my fingers making a sticky noise as I move up and down, stroking him.
“Fuck!”
Hot cum explodes across my tongue and hits the back of my throat. I suck it all down like the greedy omega I am. His hips jerk. The chair creaks again. His tail curls around my throat like he seeks to feel me swallowing him down.
Lost to my needs, I suck and slurp, then lick him clean until I have savored every drop. My lips pop off, and I rock back on my heels with a dreamy sigh.
“Atlas,” Fenix says, his voice low and raw. “Tell me I can kiss her.”
“You may,” Atlas says.
Fenix leans forward, his fingers sinking into my hair, and then he kisses the hell out of me. His tongue is in my mouth, and I cling to him, and he clings to me.
I’m on his lap. His arms are around me. And I’m lost. Lost in him.
How I have missed this. The feeling of closeness, of togetherness, of two beating hearts.
“Good girl,” Atlas says. “I’m so proud of you.”
The spell shifts, taking the edge off our fiery passion, gentling it to a lighter kiss that eventually, slowly, breaks.
Breathing heavily, my eyes remain on Fenix’s.
“I love you,” he says. “Never forget that.”
Atlas’s hand goes to the back of my neck again, light and undemanding, approving. I look to him for direction.
“It is time,” he says. “Time we let Fenix go.”
I trust Atlas. I trust all of my mates. But in this, I sense that Atlas has a plan.
I nod.
He picks me from Fenix’s lap and carries me over to his chair behind his desk, where he sits me on his lap.
“Send word to Darrion that he is needed in my study,” he says, not taking his eyes off me, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, encouraging me to tuck my head against the crook of his shoulder.
I close my eyes. My body is buzzing, and beneath my pretty silk dress that Darrion takes pride in selecting and dressing me in each morning, I’m utterly drenched.
Darrion, who is to be next…
I hear the jangle of Fenix closing his belt. A low creak as he rises from the chair. The scuffing of boots on the floor. The faint scrape of claws against wood as Lark moves aside, and another drawn-out creak of the study door opens and closes.
My eyes remain firmly shut.
Heat is coursing through me.
And I am ready.
Ready for whatever is next.
Atlas
She is coming back to us. The scent of her arousal hangs heavy in the air. It pulls at me, making demands of me, when I want to hold back and take this slow, for her.
“Hardly slow,” Aldric informs me with a mocking clack of his beak.
I concede to his point.
Aware that Darrion will be on his way and arriving soon, I take this brief interlude to enjoy Violet nestled upon my lap. Her cheeks are flushed, as are her tits. Almost like she senses my lustful scrutiny, her thighs squeeze together, and the fresh scent of arousal blooms.
She does not like waiting, but waiting is a reward in itself.
Only I could swear something has broken in my brain, for I find myself unusually reckless. That my wavering control doesn’t worry me ought to be a big red flag, yet still I do not heed caution, my hand sliding over her thigh and pressing against her hot core through layers of silk.
“Are you making a little mess, pet? Are you ruining this fine gown that Darrion had made especially for you?”
She whimpers, and her thighs squeeze together again, trapping my hand.
“Answer me.” My tone is one that brooks no refusal.
“Yes,” she breathes.
Darrion is closing in, having just returned from an early morning patrol.
“Lift your skirts. Show me.”
Her eyes flash to mine like she is checking she heard right.
Whatever she sees in my face galvanizes her into action.
With a small, cute squeak, she snatches her dress up and parts her thighs, revealing her condition.
My hand is large and the knuckles littered with old scars, a legacy of my time before I bonded to Aldric.
They look rough and obscene against her soft, pale skin.
And still, I don’t hesitate to put them on her like it is my Gods-given right.
Slick smears the tops of her thighs and the glistening lips of her pussy, where my mate is hot and drenched.