Page 103 of The Blood Witch

Finally, he released her. He pulled the ruined shreds of her shirt and bra from her chest slowly and reached for her pants.

“Stop,” Fey gasped. His hands froze. “I like these pants. Don’t you dare ruin them.”

Jasper grinned. The claws retreated slightly, and his fingers undid the clasp before he peeled them off her legs.

The claw that slipped over her underwear felt very sharp, though.

Fey whimpered, fighting to hold still as he surgically sliced through the fabric, leaving nothing but bare skin and scraps of lace.

For a moment, Jasper just stared down at her as though mesmerized, his gaze burning hot as he held her legs open.

Then wordlessly he stood, eyes sliding up her body to hold her gaze as his hands reached down to pull off his shirt. He tossed it aside, eyes still on her, but when his hands went to his own pants, he paused.

Glancing over at Alastair, Jasper winked.

Fey twisted from her place on the couch. Alastair was leaning forward, arms on his knees as he watched Jasper. His gaze was heated.

Jasper popped the button on his pants open and reached his hand inside, gripping himself.

“Like what you see, boss?” he asked in a breathless voice.

Alastair’s eyes shot up to Jasper’s face, and he was on him in an instant. Hands gripping Jasper’s hair, Alastair held him in place while he kissed him, groaning against Jasper’s lips.

“Enough teasing, puppy,” he said when he broke the kiss. His hands were still fisted in Jasper’s hair. “Make her comenow.”

Jasper nodded, licking his lips as he settled himself between Fey’s legs on the couch.

“Fuck, she’s already so wet,” Jasper told him, his breath tickling Fey’s skin. She gasped when she felt his tongue against her, a single soft sweep over her center.

“Wetter,” Alastair ordered. He peeled off his own shirt and slacks,stroking himself and coming over to where Fey writhed on the couch. “I want her dripping down her thighs when we fuck.”

Jasper groaned in answer, sucking and licking at Fey while his hands held her legs spread.

Fey cried out as his lips closed around her clit. Alastair took advantage of the moment, slipping the head of his cock between her parted lips.

The angle made it difficult. Her lips were barely sliding down two inches of his length, but still Fey moaned, tilting her head toward him and trying to take him deeper. He groaned as she swirled her tongue around him, his eyes glued to where Jasper’s tongue lapped at her.

Jasper’s claws had left red marks on her skin, stark lines against her pale flesh, and Alastair’s finger traced one of the lines down her chest and up to her nipple. His fingers closed over it and pinched, just as Jasper moaned, the vibration coursing through Fey’s body.

“That’s right, Witchling,” Alastair praised, rolling her nipple expertly between his fingers. “Imagine all the things the two of us can do to you… the things wewilldo to you.”

And she did. She let herself imagine every depraved thing the three of them could do together, every possibility. Every position. Jasper’s hands gripped her harder, his pace quickening as though he were imagining it too.

Her mouth still wrapped around the head of Alastair’s cock, and with Jasper’s face buried between her thighs, Fey bowed off the couch and gave a muffled scream as she came.

“Fuck,” Alastair hissed. He pulled himself from her mouth, and Fey gasped for breath, her body still quaking.

With one last soft lick, Jasper untangled himself from her legs, grinning. Her arousal glistened on his lips and chin.

“Come here, puppy,” Alastair said breathlessly. Gripping Jasper’s shoulders, he pulled him close enough to lick Fey’s wetness from his jaw. Jasper moaned as Alastair’s tongue slid up further, tracing his lips before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Fey went still, watching them. She didn’t expect that seeing them together would bother her, but she hadn’t expected to… to like it. Alastair held Jasper so completely still as they kissed, possessing him completely. When he finally broke the kiss, Jasper looked dazed, his eyes unfocused and a little unsteady on his feet.

“Roll over, Witchling,” Alastair said, his eyes moving over to where she lay on the couch and flaring as they looked up and down her body. “Get on your hands and knees.”

She was liquid, muscles nearly unresponsive. But somehow, she managed it, her arms shaking with the effort and her legs trembling as she rolled to her stomach and came up to her hands and knees.

“That’s our good girl,” Alastair praised her. He pushed Jasper toward one end of the couch, then positioned himself behind her. The head of his cock slid over her, once, twice. Then he slipped it up to her entrance and braced himself there.

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