Page 147 of Gemini Hunted
This is gonna be good. So good it’ll definitely trigger my next orgasm.
If the sheer pleasure of watching doesn’t kill me first.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Zephyr
“I have not entirely forgiven thee for the kraken, Vasili Romanov,” I warn my nemesis in this harem, falling back on formal dialect for maximum effect. “Thy treacherous plan to recruit my enemy as thine ally in this harem. All thy sly and snakish schemes have now fallen to ruin.”
“Oh, bloody hell, will you two get over this blooming rivalry?” my Ronin demands. He’s naked and furious, in part because we’ve finally trapped him in a corner, and his ego doesn’t care for being bested at his own game. “Vasili knows he bollocksed it all up. Don’t you, love? But it’s all worked out in the end, yeah?”
“For most of us.” Vasili spares a pensive glance for my ossified cousin in the pool, still a tangle of stone tentacles and gaping beak—a sight I’ve been careful to pretend I find entirely untroubling. “I’ll admit this wasn’t entirely the outcome I intended.”
“Not bloody done yet, though, are we?” Despite his annoyance at being cornered, Ronin is violently erect. The heavy silver ring of his Prince Albert piercing, like the dragon tattoo that twines around his torso, is an adornment he added during our years apart.
I can’t get enough of it. Or of him.
“Stop mouthing off to your king and come here, you rascal.” I wrap a hand around Ronin’s wrist and reel him in while he grumbles and resists, which merely serves to inflame me further.
Vasili smirks at me over his shoulder and closes in behind him. We’ve both been stripping while we hunted. All of us driven, I dare say, by the electrifying impact of my scrumptious bride being double-dicked and ridden hard by the wolf and the dragon.
Zara’s moans and sobs and cries of pleasure, coupled with her shifters’ guttural growls, are still making the walls hum.
By now, Vasili Romanov is nearly naked, his Academy uniform scattered across the floor, mingled with my swords and boots and dragonscale. Vasili has retained only a pair of mouthwatering black lace panties stretched over his pretty cock. That tease of a garment cups his perky ass the way my hands will shortly do.
Together, he and Ronin are striking.
These two have loved long and true, all those years while I skulked behind the Avalon portal licking my wounds and stoking my rage.
I swear they are perfect. Perfect for each other, yes. But also perfect for me.
Ronin is flame-eyed and tawny-skinned and powerful, black mane slithering around the potent flex of a warrior’s muscle. Aloft, he commands any saddle like the dragonrider he was born to be.
Like the wily fuck he is, Ronin wields every atom of his sexual appeal to taunt and torment.
Whereas Vasili is deceitful and vicious and fiendishly clever. Slim and pale as cream poured from a pitcher, all balletic grace and supple strength, crowned by a shag of gilded hair that frames sharp cheekbones, delicate jaw, and cruel mouth. Hisice-blue eyes flash warning beacons as I pounce on Ronin like a hunting dragon and drag him into my arms.
“Come on, love.” Ronin reaches behind him to reel Vasili in too. “I’d really fancy seeing the two of you share a proper snog.”
Over Ronin’s shoulder, our gazes lock.
Mine and Vasili’s.
An electric current of raw desire, laced with aggression and domination, arcs between me and my horrid nemesis.
Then one corner of Vasili’s mouth curls in a wicked grin. “Oh, but we’ve already kissed and made up. I’m terribly afraid you’ve missed it.”
Ronin’s expectant face falls with disappointment.
This, I cannot endure.
“Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov, by the Goddess, you are the most provoking creature.” I pin Ronin against my violently erect cock with one arm, wrap my free hand in Vasili’s silver hair, and drag the Goblin King into a claiming kiss.
Zara calls this one her dominant alpha, a title that invariably makes me fulminate, while the insufferable creature himself preens like a peacock. Still, this vicious rival yields to me. Vasili tucks up against Ronin’s fine ass and sighs a note of tolerance (if not submission) into my mouth. His serpent’s tongue slips between my lips to lick my tiny fangs. Simultaneously, his silken fingers graze my exquisitely sensitive ear tip.
That searing moment of foreplay, intensely sexual for any Fae, nearly launches me into orbit.
“That’s it,” Ronin says, thick and husky, nuzzling my neck and kneading my ass with his scorching flamethrower hands. “Be nice to each other. For Zara’s sake, if not for mine.”
