Page 130 of Gemini Kings
Max gives me a drunken look, eyes fiery with rut, then twists to shove open a door beside us that I haven’t even seen. I catch a glimpse of some kinda drug den or something in there, lava lamps oozing and pulsing with colored light, rough walls covered with fluorescent acid rock tapestries, psychedelic cushions scattered over a 1960s shag carpet, and two girls and a guy on the floor in full fuck.
Whoa.
That Tiberius girl’s getting double-dicked by a couple of Hadrians and I amherefor it.
“OUT!”Max thunders in his brassy dragon bellow.
Geez. He practically knocks the lamps over and blows the tapestries down with that dragonish roar.
Mother naked, the three Hadrians come tumbling out and literally fall through the door into the full-scale orgy going down on the dance floor. Max grabs my wrist, practically hurls Ronin into the den—still hard, sex-drunk and swaying, leather pants open and clinging to his hips—then swings me in ahead of himself and slams the door behind the three of us.
The whole joint reeks with the skunky smell of pot, but who cares. It’s fucking private.
Max barely gets the bolt shot (which the earlier three apparently failed to manage) before Ronin and I are on him, unbuckling his spiked belt and unzipping his distressed denim and shoving his pants down his hips. Underneath, our dragon’s a tiny European speedo kinda guy, but his barbed cock is straining the fire-engine red fabric, his crown already shoving into view to say howdy. His crotch is dark and sopping with dragon precum.
Jesus. My mouth is watering.
Ronin drops to his knees, peels off in record time that last little tease of a garment our dragon’s still wearing, and cradles all that cock in both hands. Clearly Ronin wants a proper look at what he just rashly agreed to take on.
And, God knows, Max is well worth seeing.
The dragon leans back against the door, eyes falling closed, and groans like Ronin’s gutting him. Ronin himself is pornographically hot with silky hair spilling down his bare back, sweat gleaming on his golden skin, cock jutting through his leathers and glistening with his come and mine.
“I’m gonna suit you up,” Ronin murmurs to the dragon. “But I’m honestly not sure how well the condom’s gonna hold.”
Max’s eyes slit open in a ferocious frown. “I am not diseased, and I do not lie. I was tested before I left Russia. Do you think I would ever risk her safety? Or yours, my mate?”
Well, all righty then.
He’s not our mate, obviously, but I gotta admit this dragon’s hella sexy when he’s all broody and protective. That’s probably my heat talking, but you can’t lie to a telepath. Ronin can sense he’s telling the truth, and so can I.
And clearly Ronin’s on board.
I’m just starting to weigh my options (all good ones, from where I’m standing) when Ronin grabs my hand and tugs me down next to him. He wraps a possessive arm around my waist to tuck me up tight against his side.
This setup totally works for me, because A) this carpet’s thick and soft, and B) I’m finally ready for an up-close-and-personal of that dragon cock myself.
Just in case you’re wondering, the dragon’s… huge.
I mean it.
Even without those fleshy barbs on either side that make Max’s junk look like a devil’s forked tail. He’s thickest in the middle and narrow at the tip, where he’s flushed and plump and drizzling, like, alotof precum.
Seriously. I’ve never seen a guy pump out that much.
“Dragons are a critically endangered race, my Zara,” he rasps. “We are the white rhino of the witching world. Our extinction may already be inevitable.”
My gaze flies up to find Max brooding down at me. His hand wraps in my hair, now all tumbling down from that classy twist I had going. He frees the whole mane with a hard clench that sends it cascading down my back. His oblong pupils slit with pleasure.
“Yeah, you’re endangered—I meanweare, which still feels weird for me to say—and that’s definitely something we’re gonna work on.” I cock my head. “Butthat’swhy it’s Niagara Falls down here?”
“It is nature’s way of… increasing the odds. When I take you, I will fill you, and my lock will hold my seed safely inside you.” Max’s broody stare shifts to Ronin. “Both of you.”
Oh shit. That’s hot.
Ronin’s careful fingers skim over those two sharp barbs. I’m linked up with him—both of them—pretty tight, and I’m relieved to realize Ronin’s feeling way more intrigued than alarmed by that anatomical hazard sign Maxim just hung out there.
“How’s this bit work then?” Ronin traces a careful finger around Max’s pointy parts.
