Chapter 39.6
Zephyr
This warlock alpha who shares my queen—an arrangement I am now forced to tolerate—is an insolent brat.
I dream hourly of the moment I’ll finally manage to strap Vasili Romanov to the St. Andrew’s Cross mounted over my bed and stuff his disrespectful mouth with one of my prized collection of dildos.
Then I fully intend to fuck this horrible creature until he begs for the king’s mercy.
For now, however, his insolent command ignites my blood like this warlock has conjured witchfire.
Honestly speaking (which is the only way a Fae can speak), I’m unaccustomed to anyone else giving orders in this bed. Tonight, for some mysterious reason, I seem to have yielded the whip hand to this maddening (if alluring) rival.
Quite possibly, this is because he’s still giving me a hand job so intense I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“How kind of you to grant permission,” I manage to say wryly between strokes, because this warlock is never kind, no more than I am kind myself. We’re monsters. Both of us. “But ’tis for her to say.”
“Finally, darling, we agree on something ,” Vasili says on a silky purr.
Abruptly, the warlock—whom my bride calls her snake—frees my weeping cock and slithers aside to open my path to her .
Zara.
By the moon, she makes my soul sing.
My wild Gemini queen kneels breathless in my ruined bed, crouched in a pool of starlight and a tangle of wine-soaked sheets.
With rivers of warlock seed spilling down her succulent thighs and the wolf looming at her back like the guardian he is, his eyes pulsing red with hunger.
Zara’s teal hair is a wild tangle. Her eyes glow purple with her own special witchcraft.
And her lush breasts and plump pussy are begging for my mouth.
Far too long has this tiresome war with my demon cousin kept the two of us apart.
Tonight, she is mine.
Mine to claim. Mine to ravish. Mine to ruin.
Still, she must consent.
My lengthy absence and long silence, while I dealt with our resident demon, have both angered and hurt my bride. Since the moment I appeared to reassert my claim, she’s kept me stiffly at a distance.
Now, between Zara and me, an electric cable of silence stretches taut.
To my sharp Unseelie senses, she hums with the voltage of power.
“Well, my bride,” I say softly into the hush. “Have I your heart? And your consent to the claiming?”
“Is that you finally asking instead of just taking, Your Radiance?” She chuffs out a soft laugh. “Took you long enough to learn. But I guess there’s hope for you, huh?”
Words matter in Avalon.
Hers seem less than the fully voiced consent I require.
I’m so hard for her, all the blood in my body has rushed to my cock, now jutting majestically before me like a battering ram. It’s all I can manage not to snarl and lunge for my mate, like the wild slavering beast they all think me.
Kneeling before her like a supplicant in my own moon-cursed bed, I clench my fists instead and speak roughly. “’Tis for you to say.”
The silence stretches until it hums.
The scattered males in her harem pause to listen.
Vasili lurks at my back like a menace. Even the dragon shifter slows his desperate rutting into that sweet Mercury boy and strokes the boy’s back to soothe him (Neo is fretful now, eager for dick, whining softly with every exhale) while we all await her pleasure.
My own dragon, my green Xhevith, rumbles and puffs in his distant lair. As always, he and I are linked. My beast desires what I desire. His pleasure is my pleasure.
But even he knows we must wait.
At last, Zara’s lashes lower and her lips part.
“Okay, Your Transcendence,” she breathes in her throaty sex voice. “Think you passed the test. Come and get me.”
Released from the leash of her will, I scramble across the vast distance—both physical and otherwise—that stretches between us.
With a feral growl and a swirl of my long hair, I pounce.
She clutches my shoulders for support and laughs as she topples backward under my weight. The wolf, pinned beneath her, growls in surprise but catches all of us in his reliable arms.
I’m starting to learn this is the role Lucius Aries plays in this polycule.
I press my naked body flush against Zara’s, her soft breasts crushed to my chest, her slick thighs parting around the insistent press of my shaft.
Her smiling mouth, sweet and tart with moon wine, opens to meet the demand of my kiss.
Her wicked tongue unfurls against mine, then darts inside to tease my fangs.
Every synapse of my body screams with need and hunger.
By the moon, I am starving.
Her sleek legs, sticky with her own juices and these other men’s passion, wrap around mine. Her heels press into my ass and her claws dig into my back.
“Oh, God, Zephyr,” she whispers into my mouth. “I missed you.
This is all the consent I require and more.
With a moan, I angle my hips and drive deep into the wet heat of my bride’s delectable cunt. Her slippery core welcomes my cock with a pulsing clutch that nearly unmans me on the spot. My back arches and my mouth opens on a groan of intense pleasure.
In his lair far below, Xhevith bugles and bates his mighty wings in triumph.
Oh Goddess, my queen is soaked.
Fueled by her superheat and the mating ruts of her shifters, the moon wine they’ve all guzzled has lent an added kick. Multiple warlocks in this harem have already mounted her and spilled in her.
In addition, she’s drenched in her own lavish juices.
Her mating scent of rose and peaches floods the air.
All her shifters are scenting, saturating the night with the primal scents of wolf and vetiver and brimstone.
She and the snake alone are pumping enough Mogadon sex pheromones into the air to render us all horny.
Beyond doubt, the wolf’s knot has stretched her.
But… ah… she’s still so deliciously tight.
I strain for a modicum of restraint. Strain to bridle my savage drive to claim her—simply to prove to these rival males that I’m not the feral, uncivilized primitive they all think.
Alas, my cock has seized the reins.
My hips drive into my bride in a moon-fucked frenzy. Reasserting my royal claim on her royal body.
And punishing her for leaving me.
“Never again,” I swear to her, over Xhevith’s distant bellow. “Zarina Selene Gemini… heart of my heart… soul of my soul… you are never again to leave me. Swear this to me now.”
My ultimatum merely spurs her to greater rapture, this goddess of fire and passion. Her eyes flare ultraviolet. Purple lighting lances across the starlit sky.
“Oh, fuck, Zephyr,” she moans in the resonant rumble of her lightning voice. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum for you so hard—”
Without warning, a fist knots in my hair, hard enough to spill fire across my scalp.
By now, I know that hand.
This is how Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov fancies he’ll bring me to heel. As though I—the Unseelie King—were a dog to be tamed in this tyrant’s kennel. His ruthless grip bends my spine like a bow and makes me hiss.
“Darling, I know you’re still new at all this. But pacing is everything,” the warlock whispers in my ear. “Make her chase it a little. Prolong her pleasure, and she’ll electrify your entire wretched hovel of a kingdom when she cums.”
He punctuates this irritating directive with a hot swipe of tongue along the rim of my ear.
I barely bite back an unkinglike whimper. The ear tip is a nerve-packed extremity that is an erogenous zone for any Fae.
Damn the moon. I’ll not give this wretch the satisfaction of any response.
In the face of my stubborn silence, his cool finger glides down my spine to tease the crease of my ass.
My spike of annoyance splinters into shards.
I am by no means amenable to being penetrated myself.
At the very least, I’m little acquainted with the experience, since Ash always bends for me.
With Ronin (the only other male lover I’ve ever known, both of us virgins to start), we each mounted the other just once, that night by the Beltane fire.
My ass is already flexing as I drive into Zara’s sweet heat. Suddenly, the teasing Romanov finger that slips below my tailbone makes my spine tingle and my bollocks tighten.
My breath snags in my throat. “Vasili—”
“ Silence ,” he snaps. “Here’s a newsflash for you, Your Radiance. Everyone in this harem… in one way or another… bends for one of the alphas. Most of the time, they bend for me. Unless you like it knotty, you’ll do the same.”
Goosebumps sheet across my skin.
The Fae lack body hair, except for a tuft between our legs. But if I possessed a hairy pelt like Lucius, all my fur would be standing on end.
My eyepatch cuts cruelly into my perspiring brow.
Still, I’m not about to remove it and repulse them all with my disfigurement.
That horrible Romanov is lurking on my blind side—a position of vulnerability I would never tolerate, if I weren’t buried balls-deep in my bride and pumping us both into a violent frenzy.
“Thou art dreaming,” I say on a groan, falling back on the formal speech I use with my courtiers (when pressed) to underscore my authority. “Or… jesting.”
Undaunted, Vasili’s cool finger slips between my ass cheeks. My hips stutter and I gasp out a curse.
Damnation.
The brat has gotten under my skin, as these mortals say.
Now, surely, he knows it.
“Hmmm, am I jesting?” he purrs in my ear. “That noise you just made didn’t sound much like laughter, Your Radiance.”
“Vasili, for moon’s sake,” I groan, driven to absolute despair. My bride is writhing on my cock like a cat in heat. All too clearly loving everything she’s seeing and hearing and sensing from the two of us. To break her superheat, she requires my absolute attention.
By the Goddess, I swear she’ll receive it.
In full moon-fucked measure.
“Well, I see I’ve made my point. You’ll bend for me and you’ll like it when you do, darling, I promise you.
But not tonight.” With a last wicked prick of his adder’s fang into the sensitive tip of my pointed ear that makes me shiver like a bird when a dragon soars past, that snake of a Vasili unhands me and slithers aside. “Consider this a stay of execution.”
Released from his fist in my hair, my spine unbows and my head falls forward.
Not a moment too soon.
Zara’s next peak is rushing toward us.
Her deliciously tight pussy clenches around me and milks me like a hand. Sparks fly from her fingers. Her sharp nails rake my back to ribbons. I hiss in a breath, teeth bared in a snarl of mingled pain and pleasure, and pound into her in a frenzy.
Obligingly Lucius captures her dangerous hands and stretches her arms overhead, pinning her back against him and offering me her breasts. Famished for a taste, I dive to capture one sweet rosy nipple in a sucking kiss that makes her whimper.
“Save your claws for me, my queen,” the wolf growls at her through his fangs. “This one doesn’t heal like a shifter. And he’s far too beautiful to mark.”
I pause in my feasting just long enough to meet the wicked embers of this alpha’s gaze. He gives me a wolfish grin.
Yielding to sudden impulse, I grin back and lunge over Zara’s shoulder to brand Lucius’ mouth with a hot kiss.
“Lucius Laszlo Aries,” I murmur against his startled lips. “Only say the word, and you too are mine.”
“I shall… take it under advisement, Your Radiance.” The poor man sounds half-strangled, but his whiskery jaw rubs my cheek to scent me before he eases back.
These shifters who fill my bride’s harem are a tactile race, always touching and nipping and scenting. But Lucius is the first of her shifter mates to scent me .
Surprisingly touched and reassured by the gesture—and the rare moment of acceptance it implies—I cup Zara’s ripe breasts and push them together so I can suckle both nipples at once. She likes it rough, this bride of mine, and her males all love to mark her.
So I suck a hard love bite into the full swell just above the dusky pink disc of her aureole.
“Sweet Jesus!” she gasps, writhing between the two of us. “That fucking stings.”
“Consider it my version of a mating bite, my bride,” I say roughly. We Fae don’t bite (much). But I do wonder if perhaps my shifter bride… or perhaps that snake of an alpha Vasili… harbors a hidden plan to bite me .
The mere notion spurs me to fuck with greater madness.
Behind me, the rhythmic grunts and whimpers and slaps of flesh on flesh tell me Maxim and Ronin have returned to sharing Neo. Between them, those two have reduced that sweet boy to a whimpering, shuddering, sex-drunk mess.
Still, Ronin’s broody gaze burns into my back.
Now he knows all—he who was the first and most tragic of those few I have ever dared to love.
Ronin Kilcannon Pendragon knows all my secrets.
He knows how deeply and darkly I loved him. Perhaps he even senses, as I do, the secret craving for him that still smolders under the ashes of my hatred. The repressed yearning for him that burns and sears like a fiery coal in my chest.
Feeling Ronin’s smoky stare like a hand cupping my balls, I fuck my bride until violet lightning blazes across the sky and sweat trickles down my back.
My spiraling frenzy is finally tempered by the familiar rumble of Ash’s deep voice.
The steadying press of his hand grips my shoulder.
“Take it easy there, Sparrow. We got all night for this. And I’d kinda like your dick to still be functional for my own use once you’re through with the princess, you feel me? ”
The warm massive bulk of my beloved Ash straddles my thighs from behind, which means he’s also straddling Zara. The soft brush of wind and feathers caresses my braced arms. His vast wings unfurl and spread in a protective arc, guarding my back and my blind side, just as he always does.
That’s what’s been missing.
That’s what I need.
The quiet fortress of safety and shelter that always means Ash for me.
With my Seelie Prince to ward my back, his big callused hands resting on my waist to ground me, I drive into Zara—my Gemini queen—until lightning forks and dances across the vault of heaven from the horizon to the sea.
While the kraken broods and watches from the silent deep.
While my faithful Xhevith trumpets in rapture from his lair.
While Zara and I and all our mates lose ourselves at last, in a shared climax that shatters our souls and reforges us anew.
A bit less separate than before, fusing the lot of us who now share this harem, slowly and tenderly, closer to merging from eight to one.