CHAPTER SEVEN
Caspen
Caspen awoke to the sounds of sex.
He knew immediately whose moans he was hearing; he would recognize them in his sleep.
He opened his eyes to see Harmony riding his brother in a chair by the fire.
It was not the first time Caspen had awoken to Harmony in his chambers.
But it was the first time he had awoken to find her on a cock that was not his.
Caspen sat up slowly, watching them with unblinking eyes, possession and fierce jealousy ripping through his chest. The smirk on Apollo’s face was enough to make him murderous.
But the look on Harmony’s was even worse.
She was enjoying herself. Not just from the sex—which was clearly pleasurable for her—but from Caspen’s exclusion.
He forced himself into both of their minds:
Are you two lost?
Harmony was the one to reply: I wanted to have sex in a chair.
Surely there is a chair in your chambers.
Not like this one.
Apollo was the ever-gleeful onlooker.
Do you not find your actions rude? Caspen continued.
What about this is rude?
You are in my chambers, yet you are fucking someone who is not me.
Harmony pouted, looking over her shoulder at him. Caspen could hear how wet she was—her pussy slid up and down his brother’s cock in languid, lazy thrusts. He wanted to tear her off him.
It is rude to be a bad host, Caspenon. You should sit back and enjoy the show.
This was not a show he could enjoy. Anything that made Apollo this happy should be outlawed.
I would rather go back to sleep.
Without preamble, Harmony stood, abandoning Apollo and crossing to the bed.
Caspen was already hard by the time she reached him.
Harmony straddled him slowly, sliding onto his cock with a self-satisfied moan.
Now Caspen reaped the benefits of her affection, and Apollo was the one who had to watch.
Caspen could feel his brother’s rage from here—it squeezed his mind so tightly his head ached.
Harmony was oblivious to their squabble, pleasuring herself as if it were her sole job to do so.
She looked over her shoulder at Apollo, who was left wanting in the chair.
Come here.
Caspen could hear Apollo’s mental battle with himself—how he wanted to resist, how he wished to tempt her to return to him.
But in a battle of wills, Harmony always won.
In the end Apollo obeyed, standing and crossing to the bed, where he lay down two feet away from Caspen.
They both stared up at Harmony, who looked back down at them.
She pressed a single finger to the center of each of their chests.
Do not touch me unless you are inside me. Whoever makes me come first, wins.
The rules had been established. It was time to play the game.
Caspen knew this was Harmony’s specialty—her way of showing where her favor lay at any given time. The two men before her would never forsake her. They would tear each other apart before they ever tore into her, and Harmony knew it. The Drakon brothers knew it too.
For now, it was Caspen’s turn. And he intended to win.
One hand took her ass, the other went to her clitoris.
He pulled Harmony forward slowly, dragging a sigh from her lips as she slid up the full length of his cock.
Then he did it again, thrusting at the same time so that she was filled to the brim.
She bit her lip. His thumb worked her clitoris rhythmically, syncing it with his thrusts, stimulating her in two places at once.
His other hand remained on her ass, keeping her tight against him so that she could not escape his cock.
Beside him, Apollo seethed. His bitterness only fueled Caspen; he thrust quicker, angling his hips so that Harmony faced more toward his brother, forcing him to see her face as he fucked her.
And what a face it was. Harmony was always beautiful, but during sex she was radiant.
She drew power from it just as all basilisks did: Her eyes turned from yellow to black, and smoke rose from her shoulders.
They had fucked a thousand times, yet somehow every time felt like the first.
Just when his motions became more purposeful, Harmony rose.
There was no use trying to keep her on his cock; she was the one in control.
Caspen could do nothing but watch as she left him and went to his brother, lowering herself onto his cock the same way she had for Caspen.
Now he was the one who seethed; now it was his bitterness that stained their minds.
Apollo was a different lover than Caspen.
Rougher, less controlled. To watch them together was to watch a thunderstorm.
Caspen had seen them fuck many times over the years.
But never at this proximity—never while inside both of their minds.
Now that they were here, he could not look away.
He saw the way Apollo’s hands gripped her hips, yanking her down onto his cock before she could catch her breath.
He saw the way her fingernails dug deep into his chest, drawing blood.
Apollo did not even flinch. Instead a wild, reckless grin stretched his face as he began to thrust up into her.
When Harmony rode Caspen, she fucked him.
When she rode Apollo, he fucked her. He was the push to her pull.
Caspen saw her pleasure—the way she came alive beneath Apollo’s touch.
Worse than that, he saw compatibility. Apollo provided Harmony with something Caspen could not: chaos.
His hands went to her breasts, squeezing them.
Then to her throat. Apollo pulled her forward, aligning their faces, staring straight into her eyes.
Just as they were about to kiss, Harmony straightened. A moment later, she was back on Caspen.
Apollo growled his disapproval. He reached for her, but Harmony slapped his hand away.
Naughty boy. You should do as you are told.
Caspen’s hopes soared. Harmony loved to play them against one another—to withhold herself as punishment.
This was his chance; Apollo’s transgression would be his reward.
Caspen took advantage of her sudden favor, sitting up and pulling her torso against his.
He kissed her as she rode him, keeping her face right in front of his.
Caspen knew she liked it like this: close and fast and unbearably intimate.
He pressed his lips to her throat, dragging them down her neck.
When he bit her shoulder, Harmony yelped.
Be gentle with me, Caspenon. I am delicate.
He almost laughed. She was anything but.
Nevertheless he released her, running his tongue gently over the wound, which was already healing. Her blood tasted like the ancient wines he collected—somehow both bitter and sweet.
Lie down. Look at me.
Caspen obeyed, falling onto his back and staring up at her.
Beside him, Apollo did the same. They both watched as she rode him slowly, tilting her hips and arching her back so that they could see every inch of her skin.
The room was sweltering, filling rapidly with smoke.
Caspen watched as sweat dripped between her breasts, slipping down her torso before pooling on his.
He had momentarily forgotten about the challenge—that his entire directive was to make her finish.
Instead he was the one close to finishing.
Caspen closed his eyes, tensing his core in an attempt to hold back.
No cheating, Caspenon. Open your eyes.
He opened his eyes to see Harmony rising once more.
Back and forth, back and forth. First one brother, then the other.
Harmony was ceaseless in her crusade, relentless in her mission.
Pleasure turned to torture. Caspen became desperate beneath her ruthless gaze.
So did Apollo. They both broke her rule again and again, reaching for her when the other was inside her.
Every time they did it, she slapped them away.
But it was Caspen, finally, who made the ultimate mistake.
The next time she rode Apollo, she turned so she was in reverse, facing away from them both.
She knew it was their weakness; she knew neither of them could resist her this way.
Anger flashed through Caspen. He sat up, grabbed her hair in his hand, and pulled.
Apollo’s fist hit his jaw before he could even blink.
Immediately, Harmony rose. In the time it took her to turn around, Caspen had landed a blow of his own.
“Stop,” she commanded.
They both stopped. It was not the first time they had drawn blood over her, and Caspen doubted it would be the last. Sometimes he wondered whether Harmony liked the way they fought more than the way they fucked.
Harmony pointed at Caspen. “Watch.”
Caspen watched.
He watched as she straddled Apollo once more, threading her fingers through his hair.
He watched as she sunk herself onto his cock one last time.
He watched as she finished, her head thrown back in victory, her pulse erratic in her throat.
Apollo came immediately after, collecting his reward.
Envy gripped Caspen like a vise. How he wished to come inside her.
Instead his cock was painfully rigid, his body taut with delayed gratification.
Unable to stand the sight of them for a single moment longer, Caspen stood and left.
It was pathetic to flee his own chambers, but he found himself too angry to care.
He had no desire to see the aftermath of their synchronized orgasm; he did not need to hear his brother’s triumphant thoughts.
They could spend the night together in Caspen’s bed for all he cared.
It did not matter; Caspen would not be returning to his chambers tonight.