Page 115 of Gemini Hunted
I tighten my arms around Ronin in warning, because my mate can be savage when threatened, and Zara has asked them not to quarrel.
Ronin merely perches his chin on my shoulder to gaze at Ash and says lazily, “Well, mate, there’s you. Haven’t popped your cherry yet, have I?”
Ash’s laugh sounds startled.
Clearly Ronin’s reply has caught him off guard.
After a moment, Ash answers in a casual tone. “Yeah, you’re a couple decades too late to be my first anything. I’m twice your age easy, kid. And then some.”
“Old man then.” Ronin muses. “And you’re a bottom, even for Neo. Could almost like you for that, by the way. Bit of fun to see our boy Red on top for once.”
“Nothing you can’t give him yourself. You’re real versatile.” Even while he downplays what might well be the first decent words Ronin has ever said to him, Ash ambles to stand at my side.
Though he is new to the harem, Ash knows me well enough not to stand behind me, where I am always twitchy and protective of my scarred back.
I am still standing with my arms around Ronin’s waist, his knees bracketing my hips, my face buried in his neck. Now I tryto straighten, but Ronin curls a hand around my head and tucks my face back into his neck.
My dragon voices a pleased and possessive rumble, deep in my chest. My palate tingles and my incisors descend. But Ronin already wears my mating scars, so I content myself with palming my mate’s tight ass and nipping his neck in warning.
If he will tease me, then he must be prepared to please me.
“Mmmm, fuck.” Ronin sighs into my touch, but I can sense him watching Ash. “Like a bit of ‘tie me up, tie me down’too, don’t you, Ash? You’re a right proper sub.”
“And you’re a switch. You swing both ways.” Ash’s tone is growing more guarded. “What kinda convo are we having right now?”
Ronin hitches one shoulder in a careless shrug. “That depends on you, doesn’t it?” He pauses. “Zeph’s birthday’s coming up. Night of the summer solstice, innit?”
“Yeah. That’s right.” Now I can sense Ash’s gaze upon us. He is watching Ronin’s legs hook around mine, pushing Ronin’s pelvis into mine in a way that sends hot blood rushing straight from my brain to my cock.
“Well, then,” Ronin says, low and husky, because he knows the effect he is having upon all of us. “Think of it as a birthday gift for the bloke we both love. Maybe even a coronation gift for Zara.”
Even with my face buried in Ronin’s neck and my senses swimming with Ronin’s scent, I can hear Ash’s breath hitch.
“You got anything to say about that, Max?” Ash says warily. “Your guy hooking up with someone new? Dragon shifters are a pretty possessive bunch. Sure, Zara won’t mind. Lucius is reasonable and we rub along. Even Beautiful and me…” He is speaking of Vasili “…I figure we can work something out.”
Ronin snickers, because Vasili is our dominant alpha, and he has been gloating all semester about the night he Compelled Ash with his witchcraft and put him in a collar and leash.
I lift my face from Ronin’s sexy neck and look soberly at Ash. “I do not own Ronin. It is his choice whom he fucks. But he will only fuck within the polycule. So that is a choiceyoumust make, Asher, Eagle of the Air. Whether you will join us fully. Or whether you will always remain apart, on the edge of us and what we share, loving Zephyr and Zara only, and breaking our Neo’s tender heart.”
Ash studies me in return, with Ronin wrapped around me, my mate smoldering and heavy-lidded with arousal.
“How old are ya, dragon king?” the Seelie Prince says at last.
“I am twenty-one.” I hesitate, but I am always honest, so I finish with a mutter. “Almost.”
“And Pendragon not even twenty. Geez.” Ash rubs a hard hand over his craggy face and sighs. “What any of you wanna do with an old guy like me… it’s beyond me. But I’m in this thing ass-deep now, ain’t I?”
“You are,” I agree. “But it is still your choice.”
“Okay then.” He nods, but I am not certain whether this is his agreement to bed Ronin, or his acceptance of something less. “One thing at a time. Just gotta survive this hootenanny and get Zara’s sweet ass planted on the throne, don’t we? Then we’ll see about the rest.”
As though he has summoned them, the familiar thunk of Racetrack’s combat boots sounds on the belfry stairs.
She is running.
I release Ronin and pivot with a growl rising in my throat.
Ronin leaps down from the ledge to stand at my shoulder. His hand cocks back like an American pitcher at the mound, golden psi fire already gathering in his palm. Ash plants himselfat my other shoulder, solid as a tree, booted legs spread and ready.
