Page 37 of Virgo Queen
The Eric Northman of the Icarus Academy is barely wearing a snug pair of briefs (which I have the feeling he only donned before bed for my sake, because he definitely wasn’t wearing any before I sucked him off last night). And the raw impact of those powerful slabs of muscle across his broad chest and hard abs and bulging thighs, all pressed against my back, is monumental.
Not to mention the jut of his increasingly interested dick. Which is currently nudging my backside.
We haven’t officially had sex—I mean, except oral sex, which we definitely hadplentyof. But I don’t get the sense he intends to tolerate that official state of affairs between us much longer.
Especially when his big palm eases up my torso to wrap around my boob. Under his purposeful touch, my nipple tingles and rises and presses against the cotton layer of shirt between us.
His breath hitches in my ear.
I gasp and squirm, which only pushes my tushie harder into his boner. Before I can bite it back, a helpless little moan slips out of me.
“Hel,”he groans, thick and raspy, into my tumbled mess of hair. “You feel so good, Mallory. I swear to fuck, you have the most perfect tits.”
I snort out a surprised laugh, because I’m not what anyone would ever call well-endowed. I heard it a million times from the mean girls in the locker room at my sucky prep school. My butt is too skinny and my boobs are too small.
But what little curviness I have, the bad boy of the Mars clan mafia seems to be thoroughly enjoying.
“I have to get up,” I repeat firmly, for both our sakes. “If a hall monitor finds me in the guys’ wing, I’ll get thrown in detention.”
“Mallory. The only hall monitor who even gives a shit is you.” Draco’s big body quivers against my back.
I have the strong suspicion he’s fighting not to laugh.
“And what about Jae?” I demand, indignant about this hilarity over my completely legitimate concerns, but still extremely distracted by the way Draco’s kneading my boob and the thought of what else might be coming. “Jae has to make beignets.”
“Fuck the beignets,” Jae mumbles without opening his eyes. “Merde, what a night, eh?”
Against my back, Draco’s laughter subsides. Reluctantly he releases my boob (to my secret disappointment) and pushes up to sit. The lush brown bearskin pools around his hips in a very distracting way.
I roll onto my back and peer up at my host, appreciating the whole effect of his washboard abs and thick biceps and broad shoulders bunching under smooth Nordic skin. Not to mention the silver hair and glacial smolder I secretly think of as the Alexander Skarsgård effect.
The spiky North Star of the Mars clan tattoo glowers against his pec.
“You’re right about one thing, Mal,” Draco says abruptly. “You do need to hide. No one can know you’ve come into your power. That includes your kin.”
A prickle of alertness tiptoes through me. He’s talking about both the Seelie and the Unseelie, which is the other hidden race. The Unseelie—the Dark Fae—they don’t hide among the normals like my kind. The Dark Fae lurk behind a magical portal in the parallel realm of Avalon.
But the Dark Fae King… he knows how to pass through. That’s how he stole my brother Ash.
I push up to sit beside Draco and hug my bony knees tightly to my chest.
“Yeah, well I’m not planning to issue a press release on the Witching News Network,” I say dryly, trying to reassure myself as much as anyone. “I keep reminding myself we don’t haveinternet behind Academy wards and all our electronics are crap. Right now, no one knows about my wings except the two of you.”
“And that’s the way it will stay,oui?” Jae snarls and rolls lithely onto his hands and knees in the furs. He slept naked and he’s already half aroused, his dusky cock rising from a nest of wiry curls, so the effect is extra distracting.
Focus, First Girl, I remind myself firmly.You need a plan if you want to survive.
“That’s right,” Draco says gruffly. “Keep this shit outta your letters home, Mal, you feel me? Keep it off the landline when you call your folks.”
I’ve already made up my mind to that.
I’m not about to tolerate getting yanked out of school halfway through my sophomore year and crowned, which is the first thing that would happen. So I lift a brow and draw my fingers across my lips to mime that I’m zipping my trap.
Draco studies me intently, clearly weighing my resolve, then dips his chin in a businesslike nod. “Good. That’s dope. Jean-Emilien and me, we’ll keep your secrets. We’ll protect you, Mallory. Same way you protected us last night.”
A sense of warmth and security (which is probably stupid, since I still barely know them) floods through me like a fever and makes my whole body tingle. My frizzy curls crackle around my shoulders. My wings ripple and flex against my back.
I gaze up at Draco’s looming frame and try to figure out when exactly I decided to trust him. Trust both of them.
