Page 63 of Destined By Dragonblood
Where had Sunday gone?
I looked like an absolute mess, but at least I couldn’t feel shit.
Tipping back my last shot of whiskey didn’t burn my throat as it ought to, and I grinned at myself. My head swam in empty vastness. Zero tension clenched my guts and hitched my shoulders. Even my dick lay soft inside my slacks.
Perfectly numb, I chuckled to myself. My liver was going to hate me, but I didn’t care. At least silence finally settled in my head. All that vivid color shit making me see through walls had dissolved.
Blessed whiskey had deadened my senses?—
A hint of vanilla and cedar wafted past my nose.
“Fuck.” Eyes clenched shut, I cursed a few more times as my dick swelled. “The fuck is wrong with you?” I muttered at my lap and its obscene bulge. How long until I started leaking?
I needed to get laid, thrust my dick deep into the first willing, wet pussy I could find. An angry sea rolled inside me at the thought of anyone but Ashley—and Dolyn.
My memory teased me again with their combined scents, and I attempted to rub a hand over my nose to rid me of the hunger rousing inside me I wanted gone.
A shiver slid down my spine as awareness awakened in my liquor-muddled head.
Goddamnit—
A hard, heavy hand grasped my shoulder and squeezed, and I groaned at the scent of pre-cum flooding my nose.
His.
Hers.
Mine.
Growling, I turned to find Dolyn crowding my stool. Golden eyes full of lust caught and held my attention—or whatever brain cells weren’t drowning in alcohol. “The fuck you want?” I made a fumbling grab at the bulge between his thighs. “This?” I grinned as his jaw clenched.
His pissiness rolled over me, but I could barely feel it.
“Not here, not now.” Low and rumbling, his voice licked over my skin, causing a pulse of premature ejaculate to soak my boxer briefs.
“The fuck?” I muttered, glancing down to see if the wetness seeped through my pants.
“Come on.” Dolyn slid an arm beneath my shoulder, pulling me off the stool. Like a mountain, a steel beam, he handled my weight as I struggled to find my feet.
Ashley’s gasp had my head attempting to twist, my eyelids blinking to make out where she was.
My other side. My other half. Third?
Whatever.
Gorgeous violet eyes studied my face like I was a book loaded with text. Did she like my story? Could she sense my emotions like I had theirs on Friday night? Dark hair spilled over her shoulders and caressed the swell of her pert tits and tight nipples.
Drool flooded my mouth, and I snickered, struggling to find my feet so I didn’t lean so hard against Dolyn even though he felt delicious as fuck all up in my space.
Pink flushed Ashley’s face, and my nostrils flared as I sucked the scent of her arousal deep into my lungs. “You’re so goddamned luscious, beautiful,” I declared, probably too fucking loud, but I didn’t give a shit. “Can smell how much you want me. Him. Both of us.” I imagined, or tried to, rather, the three of us locked together, dick in ass and dick in pussy. “Hmm. Yeah, a fuck train would work, wouldn’t it?” A chuckle burst from me at the memory of how badly Dolyn had fought against the desire while sharing his fantasy with me on Friday night.
Otherworldly bull-fucking-shit.
Dolyn steered me away from Ashley, and I stumbled, grasping his arm holding me upright. Hard and unbreakable…
I snickered, knowing I could break him—I could break anyone.
“Where we going?” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Ashley followed us out of the restaurant, my head lolling rather than moving as it ought to.
