Page 17 of Gemini Wicked

The stalkerazzi strike again.

There’s my sweet Neo, all buff and nakey, kneeling on hands and knees in my big medieval bed. With Max’s dick stuffed in his mouth and Vasili’s cock buried in his ass, at the perfect pornographic angle for all three of my guys to be fully visible. Max is gripping a fistful of Neo’s curls for control, his lithe body pumping strongly into our bookworm’s sweet mouth, with Max’s buttery blond hair slithering loose around his suntanned shoulders and his shifter eyes flaming with purpose.

Sleek and supple, Vasili’s undulating into our bookworm from behind like the snake he is, his pretty face ruthless, his icy gaze burning into Max’s over Neo’s back the whole time.

Framed in the next window over, there’s me. Standing mother-naked, with my wild mane of teal hair floating everywhere, my hands gripping the frame for balance, and my tan lines and pierced nipples on full fucking display.

Again.

Goddamn it.

Behind me looms a half-shifted Lucius—bestial and snarling, fangs distended and eyes burning red—gripping my hips in his taloned claws and pounding into me with savage intent. My mouth is open, my eyes are closed, my face is ecstatic, and my tits bounce with every one of Lucius’ pistoning thrusts.

The only one of us whose modesty is quasi-preserved is Ronin, who’s sitting between my legs and lurking mostly out of sight, except for his muscled arms wrapped around my hips and his sleek black head buried between my thighs.

Cheese on toast.

Whoever filmed our magic moment literally couldn’t have chosen a more pornographic visual. You could charge money for that shit back in Vegas.

Not exactly my most regal look.

We all look fucking debauched.

And this X-rated peep show’s streaming live on WNN for the whole witching world to see.

I actually recognize that scene from a few nights back. That was our scorching hot reunion, right after Max got back from wherever he’s been vanishing for days on end. Still shots from that same scene are splashed across the last Inquisitor. Now, clearly, someone was also recording us.

Like, with sound.

We don’t have neighbors, the cobblestone streets are so narrow the houses practically lean into each other, plus our domus is the only one on our street that’s occupied.

So our windows were wide open to the balmy spring night.

Which means the speakers are projecting Neo’s throaty moans as he gets reamed and teamed by our two alphas. Along with Lucius’ rhythmic, guttural, half-human snarls as he hammers into me.

“Want you to spill inside me, Teach,” my magnified voice breathes into the titillated night. “Want you and your wolf to rail me with that thick dick. Want your cum dripping down my thighs. All over Ronin’s face.”

Standing stock-still at the rail, the real-time Lucius swallows an audible groan. He’s always been the most discreet of my guys, super mindful of the need for propriety to protect that teaching gig he lives for.

God, the poor guy is mortified.

I never realized the way his face shifts when he fucks me from behind, eyes glowing like embers, fangs enormous and dripping, scholarly features distorted, wolf ears poking through his Renaissance curls. Like monster porn. It’s hot as fuck.

But even I gotta admit that look’s not so good for his academic reputation.

Me, I’m way past mortified.

At this point, I’m enraged.

“Blooming hell, we get the picture,” Ronin mutters. “Turn that shit off.”

As the scene plays out larger than life, massive and glowing on the screen, Max pulls out of Neo’s breathless mouth to fist his barbed dick, which is complicated and shifty and shaped like a devil’s forked tail.

I know what comes next. Pumping hard and fast, Max is revving up to spurt all over Neo’s face.

Because we recently discovered (kinda by accident) that our innocent bookworm really likes when we make him all filthy.

I don’t have to look at the actual Neo next to me to know he’s appalled, beet-red with humiliation, waiting in agonized dread for the entire witching world (including his famous Ted Kennedy dad) to see that.

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