Page 153 of Gemini Kings
Pain and pleasure rip through me. My dragon cunt clenches. My hole floods with slick and drenches his tool. His cock prods for the angle he needs to sink deep and lock inside me, while I writhe and hump and claw at him and work my fangs deeper into his throat. The rich meaty broth of his blood, spiked with brimstone, explodes in my mouth. His jaws clamp around my shoulder to demand my submission. His tongue flickers over my scales and laves his punctures with dragon spit that burns like acid.
What are the odds that at least one of us, and possibly both of us, just gave the other a fucking mating bite?
Fueled by desperation, I stop gnawing on his throat and thrash free from his jaws. Maybe I can break his grip before his bite can, like, take. But, OMFG, the way his cock is prodding at my starved and throbbing hole—
The howling wind parts around a piercing scream. A scream of eardrum-shattering proportions.
It’s not mine.
It’s not his.
Which can only mean it’s the scream of… a thirdgoddamn dragon.
What.
The.
Fuck.
This monster I’m halfway fucking throws his head back and trumpets a rage-filled challenge. His eyes tinge red with bloodlust.
I twist my neck to watch a streak of glittering silver flash past. Itisanother dragon, it really and truly is. But this new arrival is, like, a whole different species from Maxim and me. This new guy’s a coiling eel with a maned head, like a sea serpent, his sinuous body completely sheathed in ice and diamond scales that glisten with glints of cobalt and emerald. No forearms or back legs or limbs of any kind. He’s a literal serpent. Except for just the prettiest pair of iridescent feathered wings you’ve ever seen.
He’s a flying snake.
My tongue flickers out to taste the air, drenched with the feral stink of dragon. I can smell cock on that thing. He smells like caramel and vetiver.
Under a flowing silver mane like a wild stallion’s, sky-blue eyes, lidded in glittery silver, meet my astounded stare.
How do you like the effect, darling?a familiar voice purrs in my head.Is it a good look?
Goblin King??Both my words and my telepathy flood back in a tingling rush.Sweet bleeding Christ! How…?
I can’t even start to wrap my head around what’s happening here. Like how my snake just fucking shifted to an actual flying snake. And clearly now is not the time, because this big bastard of a dragon I’m almost fucking is roaring and steam’s leaking around his fangs.
My snake has given me my words back. Now I hurl them at this horny black Godzilla who’s clutching me like I’d hurl a bolt of lightning.
If you fucking flame at my mate, Maxim Rasputin, you can fly straight back to thedomusand pack your goddamn bags.
Max roars and tilts his muzzle at the sky to unleash a torrent of boiling crimson flame. But he’s very clearlynotaiming at the white dragon.
He’s obeying my command.
Even though he obviously doesn’t like it.
He’s obeying me the way he promised.
Vasili flows with liquid grace into a serpentine loop—leave it to the Goblin King to shift into a pretty dragon—and parts his jaws like some well-bred Jane Austen lady patting a delicate yawn. A blizzardy swirl of snow and hail pours from his mouth. He politely misses Max, but he’s showing off.
He’s some kinda ice dragon.
Which is perfect for a warlock shifter who’s a water sign.
Then he eels down in a long fluid scroll of dragon toward the dark island below. The white dragon’s taunting croon unfurls on the wind behind him, daring us to chase.
I explode from the black dragon’s stunned and loosened grasp and plummet after my snake.
Max roars so loud he nearly shakes the stars loose from their moorings. Then he wings after both of us in furious pursuit.
