Page 121 of Caged Kitten

“When isn’t she?”

Fintan’s amusement dripped across my skin like lava, hot and all-consuming, and he dragged me back into him, cock rigid and sharply insistent against my bare ass. While Rafe meandered over to his usual armchair—the center piece directly in front of the hearth, throwing caution to the wind as a vampire drifting so close to the flames—Elijah settled in the largest seat of them all, the grand black pleated chair to the left, foreboding and regal and woefully out of place amongst Fintan’s light décor. A throne for a king—for an alpha. A conquering dragon.

Tipsy on fae wine and these three, I reached back to stroke Fintan over his pants, smoothing my hand up and down his rigid length, wondering if I focused on the head, then he might abandon whatever he had in mind and just take me right here and now. Instead, the fae prince thrust me out at an arm’s length, tsking at my efforts, then steered me toward the trio of highbacked chairs. Plum flames warmed my calves as I rounded in front of the seats, the silent audience, thrones upon which my kings sat and watched me touch myself just a few nights back. I stumbled a little over the black bear rug underfoot, but my knees were grateful for it when Fintan pushed me down.

“You know what to do, dearest darling,” he rumbled in my ear, his hand creeping down my bare back, tracing my spine, then smacking me hard on the ass to spur me onto all fours. I complied, body on fire with three sets of eyes watching me intently, hungrily, these dominant lovers who always had their way with me—but in the end, were under my thrall. There was such power in submission, in surrender. Over the last two weeks, I had explored that for the first time in my life, willingly giving over my control to men who adored me—who would never hurt me.

Not unless I begged for it.

Crawling on my hands and knees, lower back arched to thrust my ass into the air, I crept toward Elijah and freed his swollen cock from his trousers. Even with the wine driving me, making me feel light as air and free as a bird, I tackled the buttons and the zippers and the delicious black briefs that clung to his huge thighs with ease. He stood tall and proud before me, his cock largest of the three and a bit more intimidating, but I dragged my tongue its full length all the same, circling the silken tip before plunging it into my mouth. The dragon inhaled sharply, hands gritting into the armrests, his whole body stiffening ever so slightly—a subtle reaction shared between the two of us, lost on Rafe and Fintan.

A weakness that I adored.

A reminder that even though I was naked and they were fully clothed, me on my knees and them seated, I had all the power here.

Intoxicating, that kind of control.

Freeing, too, the surrender I gave to them willingly. Happily.

As I bobbed up and down on his shaft, only able to take about half in my mouth before I gagged and coughed and choked on him, Fintan nudged my knees apart with no more than a fingertip against my skin. At first I thought he had done it for me, to help me stabilize, but seconds later his mouth brushed my inner thighs—then his tongue swept through my folds and swirled around my clit. A throb of pleasure had me moaning, even with my mouth full, and both Fintan and Elijah groaned in response. While the dragon’s huge hand threaded into my hair, guiding me up and down, setting a hurried pace, Fintan’s hands bruised into my ass as he consumed me like a parched man drinking at an oasis.

Of the three, he was the best with his mouth.

Rafe could make me come in seconds.

Elijah consumed me, mind, body, and soul anytime we touched.

Together, they made the perfect lover—unmatched by any the world had ever seen.

How had I ended up so lucky?

Maybe it was karma for Xargi—for suffering in a cell, for a psychopath picking off my family. I had endured horrors behind bars, but now? Paradise. Even a normal life with these three, just going about our daily existence in the most banal circumstances, sounded like nirvana.

Elijah watched me with an unrelenting gaze, irises a fiery gold while his pupils turned to slits, his inner dragon just as infatuated with our intimacy as the man. I fluttered my lashes up at him, totally smitten with the way he stared during sex, so possessive and powerful, an alpha who knew exactly what he wanted that it was impossible to resist him when he turned that all-consuming gaze on me. I held it for as long as I could, rising up and down, swirling around the head of his shaft and flicking my tongue in all the ways I had learned made him twitch, only I lost it when Fintan homed in on my clit—when he got technical between my thighs.

Because even though I knew how to drive these three men crazy, what to do when we were alone and naked to turn them savage, each one knew how to play me too. In fact, I was convinced they shared notes at this point. In their own ways, Rafe, Fintan, and Elijah were slowly becoming experts at tearing me apart and putting me back together again.

And I loved them for it.

Although, my least favorite thing was edging—which Fintan was especially good at and took great pleasure in torturing me with whenever he had the chance. On the cusp of another climax, every muscle tensed, my blowjob technique gone to shit, the fae stopped that thing he was doing with his tongue. Just. Disappeared from between my thighs, leaving me hanging on the edge with a patronizing chuckle that echoed between all three of them.

“Such a greedy creature, isn’t she?” he mused, slowly reclining back on the bearskin rug, wings splayed wide, and I glowered at him over my shoulder. He shot me a smirk and a wink, then undid his trousers and eased his shaft out, rigid with desire and glistening at the tip. “You want to come? Do it yourself, little witch.”

“Fuck you,” I fired back, only to let out an indignant squeal-giggle when he lunged forward, spurred by fae speed that I could never match, and snatched me by the hips. He yanked me back and pierced me with a single brutal, glorious thrust, filling me to the hilt. Ever the showman, Fintan kept my back to him so that the others could watch me bounce—something they had recently admitted to, each one surprisingly into watching another man screw his girl—and I took a fleeting moment to adjust to the position. Braced on his thighs, I folded my legs so that I could steer the ship, set the pace, rock to my own rhythm.

But then suddenly there was Rafe, materializing in front of me, his speed surpassing anyone in this court. I gasped, heart in my throat, then opened my lips obligingly when he presented his cock—nudged it against my cheek, smeared his arousal along my lower lip before plunging into my mouth. Eyes wide, I sat up straighter to properly take him, completely distracted despite the fact Fintan continued to stretch me, dominate me. The fae dragged a teasing hand along my back, raking his nails softly over my skin. The pair offered me just a few moments to adjust, and then, like they shared some warped telepathic connection that I wasn’t included in, Fintan bucked his hips up hard just as Rafe grabbed hold of my face and thrust.

I had never been all that adventurous in the bedroom before them. Kink seemed tiring and overwhelming, but now, I couldn’t imagine going back to just one man having his way with me. Even if only one of my guys had his hands on me, his teeth on me, his body utterly consuming mine, at least one other was watching—or demanded details after, getting all riled up himself before pouncing.

Who knew I had a secret dark streak? That vanilla just wouldn’t cut it anymore—not ever, ever again?

Of the three, Rafe was usually the roughest. He fucked the hardest, no matter the hole, and tonight was no different. While Fintan rocked me back and forth, occasionally arching up to hit that amazing spot inside me or reaching around to fiddle with my clit, Rafe—my sweet, empathetic, brooding vampire—twined his hands into my hair and used my mouth with wild abandon. Never mind the drool dribbling over my chin, the tears swelling in my eyes. He stared down at me, all serious and masterful, and had his way with me with almost no regard for my comfort.

When I choked or gagged, he grinned.

When Fintan spanked me, he chuckled.

Only when the fae’s pace quickened, his breath catching and his grip bruising, did the vampire ease back. He retreated with a sigh, allowing me to draw a full breath for the first time in an eternity, and watched unflinchingly as Fintan pounded into me. Made me bounce. Elijah even shoved him out of the way, probably sick of staring at his friend’s back, and both stroked themselves as Fintan claimed me for his own pleasure.

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