Page 3 of Virgo Queen
But I’m not normal.
So I can hear Jae’s wolf whining, feral with need, all low in his throat, as he… wow… literally gives Draco a blow job. Right here on our dormitory stairs.
Now this, I gotta see.
I mean, itismy birthday, remember? I don’t expect any actual presents, but this is the exact gift I want.
I’m standing on tiptoe and teetering in my platform heels, breathless with wonder and straining like anything to see over Draco Mars’ shoulder, when the Icelander’s raspy voice rubs against my heightened senses like sandpaper.
“You just watching, First Girl, or you wanna join?”
Heat races into my cheeks on a horrified gasp. I practically burst into flames on the spot. I literally wish I could melt and just sink through the stairs.
I’m, like, a peeping Tom. A peeping Thomasina.
I’m busted.
Geez Louise. Draco hasn’t even turned his sexy head. But he’s a really strong warlock, so clearly he senses I’m here.
With a soft curse, Jae’s head thrusts into view next to Draco’s leather-clad hip. The Cajun’s languid eyes, rimmed in black liner, flame like pools of golden honey.
“Happy birthday,chere.” Jae pauses—for me to react, I guess—but that’s not happening. His lush mouth curls in a lazy grin. “Ah, cat got your tongue,oui?”
Come on, McSnicker. Say something. You can do this.I swallow hard, suck in my breath, and open my mouth.
But now Draco is turning. He’sturning, which (ohmygosh!) brings his fully erect dick—all flushed and shiny with Jae’s saliva—right into my line of sight.
That’s the first dick I’ve ever seen—as in, literally the first one—except the full frontal in that vintage art flickA Room With A View, which wasn’t even sexual.
And Draco Mars… he’s… wow.
Just wow.
His thick shaft, jutting straight out between corded thighs in a pale thatch of pubic hair, under the ripply flex of six-pack abs and the slashing vee of his Adonis belt, he’s, like,monumental.
He’s so girthy and so long I can’t even imagine how Jae’s managing to fit that much of Draco in his mouth.
Yep. Speech is officially beyond me.
My face flames hotter, all the way to my hairline, which paired with my flaming hair probably makes me look like a tomato on stilts.
Great.
So I literally do the only thing I can think of. I drag my fascinated stare away from the combustible vision of Draco’s massive boner that’s guaranteed to be blazoned on my brain forever. Then I bolt past those two, with their sexy smirks and their knowing eyes, for the public refuge of the party in the basement.
Which—between my borrowed footwear, my flustered mortification, and my general lack of coordination—really isn’t a smart move. Even for a smarty-pants like me.
Because of course I miss my footing on these twisty ancient stairs.
My arms windmill for balance, but there’s nothing to grab. The jagged tunnel of the staircase, sharp with stony angles that can shatter skulls and break bones, opens under my desperate feet.
With a startled yelp and a spurt of terror, I fall.
Chapter Two
Draco
Getting head from Jean-Emilien is one of my favorite things in life.
