Page 11 of The Stones for It
A little thrill jolted me.
“Aye?” I licked my lower lip, feeling the unhinged sensuality Neiron infected us with taking me under. “You don’t have the stones for it.”
I had a second to suck in an alarmed breath as magic fizzed through the air. Shadows condensed into obsidian chains in the gargoyle’s raised palm. Each link held an even darker gemstone, oddly stunning for something so harsh.
The gargoyle stepped forward, and slowly, deliberately, wrapped the chain tight around each of my wrists. The cold metal trapped my arms in front of me as he fisted the ends in one huge hand.
And I just stood there and let him.
All my survival instincts had fled, leaving me with a curious desire that felt forbidden. Dangerous.
His scent invaded my senses, earthy with just a touch of unexpected sweetness, like cinnamon. For some reason, the allure of it only riled me up.
“Jewel-encrusted? You shouldn’t have,” I taunted.
Vrath growled low, and the hairs on my nape stood to attention.
Even though I hadn’t known Neiron long, deep down, I knew I could trust him to keep me safe through this. He wouldn’t have brought me to meet his friend if he thought the guy would hurt me.
Like he could hear my thoughts, the fox materialised beside me, stroking my chained wrists and whispering in my ear, “Just say the word, sweet siren, and he’ll stop.” He lifted a palm in my periphery, bright red foxfire dancing in it. “Or I’ll make him.”
His nine tails fanned out and began touching me everywhere. Stroking down my spine, along my arms, over my calves, up my thighs. One bushy white tip ghosted over my core through the thin dress and flimsier lace panties covering me, and I sucked in a breath at the rush of need. Heat pooled low in my body.
The teasing caresses only shoved logic further from my grasp. It was like the three of us had cut away from the real world and existed in a blip of time and space where insanity reigned.
“Hold her,” Vrath barked.
The towering gargoyle grabbed my throat with his other hand, a vicious sneer carving into his face, and lifted. Neiron’s hands caught me around my waist, thankfully with no flames, and took my weight before the brute strangled me.
My back hit the warm furred chest of my mate, and his hands slid under my thighs, pulling them apart. I gasped as Neiron bared me to the gargoyle I’d just met.
Vrath’s thick tail arced around his hip and stroked along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A line of black spikes ran its length like a dragon, leaving only the tapered end clear of weaponry. The blunt tip was colder than I’d expected, raising goosebumps along my flesh. It skipped the ties of my knife sheath, reaching my thigh crease and stilling.
I was embarrassingly wet; my lace thong soaked through to glisten between my legs.
Vrath held his tail high, and it sparkled with the evidence of how much I was enjoying this.
Even though I shouldn’t.
“What’s this?” Neiron purred, his body a heated wall at my back. “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying his attentions… how shocking.” His tongue traced the shell of my ear before he nipped it. “My naughty siren.”
My cheeks heated further, and I squirmed in his hold. His velvety hands tightened under my knees, large enough to fully circle them, keeping me exposed.
Metal links dug into my wrists as I tugged against them, but didn’t budge.
“Fuck the both of you. It’s from before,” I hissed.
I may be trying to cover for myself, but it wasn’t a lie. My viciously passionate kitsune had knotted me thoroughly just hours ago. There was no way I wasn’t still full of him.
Vrath’s harsh laugh contrasted with the soft chuckle behind me.
“You couldn’t handle me, little mortal. Let alone both of us at once,” Vrath mocked, fisting his hand around the solid length swinging heavily between his legs.
I bared my teeth, and yet crazy spilled past them, anyway. “Tha’ diddly haggis? I’ve seen bigger cocktail sausages.”
Neiron’s low mirth burst into a gleeful cackle, shaking me with its force. “Oh, sweet siren, now you’ve done it.”
Vrath snarled, and his grey tail moved in a blur of speed. Blunt flesh slapped my core through wet lace, making a lewd smack of noise.
