Page 29 of Gemini Kings
Little Maximka’s about to combust with wrathful jealousy. In fact, it’s just barely possible that he’s eye-fuckingbothof them. I’ve always wondered (when I bother to consider him at all) if the real reason he was so mortally offended to find me fellating the Italian stallion, way back when, was because little Maximka was itching to mount… oh, whatever his name was… the same Roman stud I was riding all summer.
Looks like I might have been right on the money.
Not that either of our Russian Orthodox families would ever have tolerated that sort of thing. Mine haven’t even spoken to me since the day they learned I was gay and thusdefectiveand packed me off hastily in disgrace on the next plane to the Academy.
It’s not that I minded being rejected and abandoned and shipped off like that by my mortified parents. Just whisked half a world away in a mad scramble, an embarrassing secret best tucked out of sight. If I weren’t an only child with promising genetics and every indication of powerful witchcraft, no doubt they’d have disinherited me entirely.
I’ve always told myself good riddance.
Fortunately, tonight I have far more enjoyable matters than my cold and loveless parents to command my full attention.
Particularly when Zara surfaces from having Ronin’s wrathful tongue shoved halfway down her throat. He’s still pissy with her, ever since she foolishly tried sneaking off the island without us (as if!) to confront her odious ex alone.
Now she sashays over to me.
I’m profoundly aware of the dragon’s burning stare shifting to me. I wrap a possessive arm around my girl’s waist and tuck her up tight against my side. She rises on her sparkly toes (I painted hers when she painted mine, it’s one of our little rituals) and nuzzles my cold cheek with her hot mouth.
I’d really like to lean in for a proper kiss, but I’ve still got this dragon to manage, and I can’t risk getting distracted. Truly, the heat rising from her soft skin and Hollywood curves as she snuggles up against me is enough of a distraction. She and Lucius are both getting ready to go into heat again—which is apparently to be a monthly occurrence, thanks to those mating bites I inflicted on both of them.
It’s a lot for me to manage as well. Yes, I’m part shifter (hence the mating bites), but that’s a part of our family legacy the Romanovs have always fiercely shunned. I’m still learning my limits and the rules.
So that I can thoroughly shatter them, of course.
In any event, I’m Zara’s alpha. Tonight I can barely manage to keep my hands off her.
Ronin’s watching this performance, so I beckon him over with a curled finger and a sultry smirk. I fully expect him to balk, but Zara’s taken the edge off his vile temper. He’s used to indulging my spiteful whims, and he prowls over with the hint of a grin lurking on his luscious lips. Of course, he too knows the dragon is watching. In fact, Maxim’s still darting glances at my boyfriend’s sculpted physique (whichis, admittedly, impressive). I particularly love that dragon tattoo spewing black flames across Ronin’s chest.
Because we have an audience and I’m a bitch, it gives me even more pleasure than usual to snake an arm around Ronin’s feral heat and drag my tongue down his throat.
He growls under my touch and wraps a hand around my cock.
I arch into his wicked touch, those knowing fingers sliding up and down my shaft at exactly the right pace and pressure to steal my soul one stroke at a time. Beside me, Zara’s heat rises and her breath quickens. Her arms coil around my waist.
“Going to fuck both of you so bloody hard tonight,” Ronin groans in my ear. “You’re ready for me right now, aren’t you, love?”
The dragon snarls with jealousy and my cock pulses with heat. My hips twitch with the drive to rock into Ronin’s grip and fuck his fist exactly as he’s inviting. My balls are already drawn up tight and swollen. I’m simply aching to feel the hot lick of Zara’s tongue.
Christ, I’d love nothing better than to fuck both of them to a screaming climax right here in this parking lot and make Maxim Rasputin watch.
But my casting hand, which I have curled in a fist against Ronin’s back, is starting to tingle. That means the dragon’s fighting me, he wants out, and even for a warlock as powerful as I am, I can’t hold him immobilized forever.
“First things first.” Although it nearly kills me to do it, I shift away from this captivating hand job Ronin is delivering and try not to breathe in quite so much of that intoxicating hit of pheromones my queen’s kicking out. “What shall we do with our scaly friend?”
Zara’s head swivels toward the creature and her face turns thoughtful. “Lower him down. And, um, Vasili?Notin the dumpster.”
“Spoilsport.” I pout. (She knows me so well.)
But I oblige her with a sigh.
A subtle gesture with my casting hand lowers the surly dragon to the asphalt. Still, I keep a good telekinetic hold on him as Zara slips out of my grasp and strolls over. The brute watches her close in, his face feral and disreputable as a damn alley rat, gaze narrowed and nostrils flared.
My, that lovely cock of his is absolutely rigid. If he were literally anyone else, I’d definitely saunter over there myself and steal a taste. There’s something about the notion of tying Maxim Rasputin spreadeagled to my bedposts and sucking him off until he bucks into my mouth and cries out my name and begs me hoarsely to finish him that makes me positively savage.
Ronin moans and twines his sinewy frame around me, because of course he’s reading my mind. His thick cock is pulsing against my thigh. He’s practically dry-humping me, because he too is very nearly in heat.
Of course, it’s Lucius who bit him, allegedly by mistake. (If you say so, darling.)
As for myself, I don’t need to bite Ronin to make him wild with wanting me.
