Page 19 of Virgo Queen
“Um… wow.” She clears her throat. A pretty blush washes up her neck and floods her creamy skin. Her throat ripples as she swallows. “That’s… you’re… something.”
What she means is, I have a monster cock.
Her honest appreciation just makes the thing swell fuller, till my shaft juts before me through my gaping zipper like a medieval battering ram.
Jean-Emilien skulks behind her like the monster he is, crouched on the table, naked and erect as fuck. He’s not telepathic in this form—at least, he doesn’t project words—so I warn him to stay put with a stern look.
If we’re doing this for real, it needs to be Mallory’s choice.
Jean-Emilien gives me and my eager cock a heated look, then buries his face in the side of her neck. Wolf ears are sprouting through his braids, and I know from experience his pelt will sprout next. Now it’s my turn to swallow at the sight of his cruel hands and black talons claiming her breasts and tormenting her pink nipples.
She winds one arm around his neck, arches her elegant spine, and leans into him. Gods, she’s so damn trusting. Her soft touch visibly gentles his savage beast.
I wrap a fist around my aching dick in a long slow pull and watch her eyes lighten from slate to quicksilver.
Yeah, nothing about this girl is… ordinary. She’s not like the rest of us—whatever she is. But that’s her business and not mine, you feel me?
“Your turn,” I say roughly.
Looking dazed, she fumbles for the sparkly swath of dress that’s clinging to her hips. Jae snarls a warning into her neck and shreds the flimsy fabric with a single vicious swipe.
Our First Girl voices an adorable little squeak of dismay. I vaguely recall she said something about the dress being borrowed.
Sorry about that, sweetheart. Too late to save the thing now.
The important thing is, she doesn’t resist.
The fabric falls away to expose the flawless moon-pale plane of her belly, the delicate jut of her hips, and the flaming lick of bush between her thighs.
Fuck. Me.
That triangle of fiery curls is drenched.
She’s fucking soaked for us.
A hoarse groan rips outta me. I’m staring at her bush like I’m demented. Understandably, she squirms under my wild-eyed stare and presses her thighs together.
I’m having none of it.
“Never hide from us,hjartfólgin,” I say thickly.
“I’m not hiding fromyou.” She shakes her head fiercely, but her face is rosy with embarrassment. “I’m just… hiding. From the inevitable commentary on the burning bush.”
I level the basement with my blackest scowl. Because ifanyoneelse (like that fucking Pendragon) is seeing her like this—much less commenting—I’ll gouge theirmannfjandieyes out.
It’s not like I haven’t done it before.
But Zara and her sexed-up guys are gone. Still holed up in the den fucking, I guess, and likely not emerging anyone soon. In fact, most of the student body is basically lost in one huge orgy. In the flickering light of the flaming oil drums, the entire dance floor is a writhing pile of nudity.
A nasty handful of Tiberius kids are slinking for the exit in a furtive way that sets my battle-honed instincts immediately on edge. But I’m not a hall monitor, true? Whatever mischief the school bullies are brewing, they’re showing zero fucks of interest in Mallory.
Except for those few—who are clearly leaving—I’m literally the only dude in the joint who’s even wearing pants.
Any rate, no one’s giving our impending threesome a flicker of attention.
That means Mallory’s hiding fromus.
Jae and me.
