Page 135 of Gemini Wicked

Her lips and breasts are lusher.

Her skin glows with all the tiny biochemical changes occurring inside her body.

My Zara smells and tastes like a ripe peach drizzled with honey.

Now my Vasili too is entering his fertile time, with a deep note of birchwood threading through his caramel-and-vetiver scent that is new.

My dragon is already wild with rut.

Seeing my two mates entwined in the bath, with his possessive hands gripping her ass, his dick buried inside her, and his copious spend dripping down her thighs, my self-control shatters.

I growl, pop the button of my jeans, and drag down my zipper to release my weeping shaft.

“Wait,” Lucius says roughly. His taloned hands flex around my naked hips.

My dragon snarls at the restraint.

But this is Lucius.

I trust him.

For my headmaster’s sake, I push out a harsh breath and lace my fingers through his savage grip.

“I will… share her with you,” I promise. Christ, my voice is gravel. Already I am half-shifted. “I will share Vasili too—if he will have us. But, for all that is holy, I cannot wait.”

“I’m merely saying let’s take this to the bedroom.” Even half-shifted, Lucius is a steadying presence against my back. Still fully clad, he rubs his whiskery muzzle into the side of my neck to scent me. “We’ll all be more comfortable in a proper bed. That will be better for Zara.”

That is the one thing he could say that my raging dragon will accept.

“Go,” I say harshly to Vasili. “Take her. We will follow.”

I know Vasili will not relinquish his claim on her delicious pussy. He is in rut, but his dragon is also fertile. He is a treacherous landmine of yo-yoing hormones and mating instinct.

Rather than climb from the tub, Vasili levitates.

His witchcraft lifts them both effortlessly, entwined and dripping, into the air. Zara gives a throaty laugh and an approving murmur. She is impressed with his control.

I too am impressed.

But his ego is not the part of him I intend to stroke.

My Neo is casting aside his own clothing left and right, but he rushes back to hold the door. With Zara wrapped tightly around his body, Vasili sails past me through the air, with a sort of imperial majesty and a sidelong smirk at my exposed dick.

“You’re not coming near me with that dragon dick of yours tonight,” he murmurs as they float past. “Where I’m concerned, you can forget about fucking.”

“Sweetheart, I intend to fuck you senseless,” I vow with a dragonish rumble. “And I swear you will like it.”

“Unlikely,” V snipes over his shoulder. He zips into the bedroom with Zara and vanishes.

“That does not mean impossible,” I mutter.

“Bloody hell, love, sign me up for that.” Ronin scrambles out of the tub, collects the bottle of wine they are sharing, and gives me an appreciative grin. His swept-back hair bares the savage lines of his face.

I cannot breed Ronin, but I can surely fuck him. The twin barbs in my randy cock quiver with anticipation.

But Ronin too stalks past me. He heads straight for a hopeful-looking Neo.

Those two are not in rut, but they are beautiful. Ronin with his broad shoulders and tight ass and sleek golden skin glistening with oil. Neo with his fair skin flushed and his purple curls tousled and his eyes shining and eager behind his glasses.

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