Page 18 of The Sacrifice

Wicked smirk growing, muscles contracting in his belly, my second in command puts his hands on our swollen shafts. His fingers are long and able, tipped with the perfect amount of claw. Pleasure washes over me as I open the Fae’s mouth beneath mine, crushing my mouth to his, and thrust through that stroking hand. Desire thickens inside me. Blood grows hotter. But I’m still the one who almost died, goddammit. Tonight, Mayce will fucking submit and serve me.

“Get on your fucking knees and put that gorgeous ass in the air,” I command him, my voice hard and menacing, bordering on carnal.

Mayce obeys, turning around to brace his claws into the bed, spreading his knees, and presenting his ass to me. At the core of it, we’re both a fucking mess of want and need. Mine simply burns differently from his when we’re together. Outside, Mayce needs to manipulate others, bend them to his will, and know he outwitted them. Myself included. I may be the leader through sheer sense of strength and authority of my age, but Mayce is the force that grounds us. Merikh is the psycho who does the dark, dirty shit. And Ky...obvious what his fucking role is—goddamned cinnamon roll, except for his crazy side.

Fuck, I love how the Fae’s dick is so long and heavy, it hangs low to nestle against his thigh. First, I brush my fingers across it in a tease, cup his balls and palm them, waiting a moment or two. His knees tremble, breath quickens, but he doesn’t cave yet. I’ll know when he’s fully submitted. Squeezing harder, I pull at his balls, tormenting him, rumbling laughter deep in my chest when Mayce groans through gritted teeth. His ass is looking far too white.

Without warning, I swing my scaled tail through the air and whip it hard against the Fae’s backside. I need to pound into him, but I crave this first. I crave his welted flesh, his sweat, his blood. My scales chafe his ass with every strike. Mayce curses under his breath. Setting to work on his thighs, I spank him harder, knowing he can take this torment. Few can. Few want. We’ve all shared beds by this point, but Mayce and I are core while Merikh and Ky work better as main partners.

Mayce is the earth to my firestorm.

Pride heats me, rouses me more because his cock has swollen, lengthened. I rain down harder blows, punishing him with fresh welts atop raw stripes. Every mark requires precision. My thoughts calm from the fiery chaos that so often consumes them. I don’t consider the pain of the blade in my throat. Or the icy infection spearing my blood and laying siege to my mind. I don’t remember the nightmares. The curse of our exile, of our missing families, does not haunt my thoughts.

All I see is Mayce’s reddened skin. All I feel is the strength of my muscles and the calm in my body. I lash the tender curve of Mayce’s buttocks, the sensitive creases between his thighs and ass.

When I set my hand upon his backside, he hisses and curses again, but I rub the inflamed skin, the soft heat, then stroke my way up to his back, tapping, tapping, tapping in a feral hint of command. I feel the bones protruding beneath the skin. His whole body trembles with need, but Mayce is not ready to surrender yet. He wants more of my touch. More pain. More breaking him down until he gets a taste of what my body has just endured.

So, I grip him by the hips, lower my mouth to his ass, and sink my teeth into the welts.

“Damnation!” Mayce throws his head back with a snarling curse.

I stroke my tongue over the indent my teeth just created, laving at the wound. “Hmm...you like my marks on your ass, don’t you, Mayce? Like me showing you how much I need you, how much I own you?” I dip a finger between his buttocks, circling the puckered hole.

“Fuck, Drago!”

“Soon, my precious pundit. We both know what I want.” I lower my teeth back to his ass and tear into the tender skin.

“Bloody gods!”

If Kyan were here, I’d order him to suck Mayce off but deny him the pleasure of coming. After his little tantrum, he deserves some delayed gratification. Guess that goes for both of us since my shoulders are still tense, and my spine tight. Fuck, I love his rounded globes. I land a hard blow with the palm of my hand, claws extended. Mayce needs to know he’s not the ultimate one who gets to be violent, possessive, and messed up. Sure, Merikh’s the worst of us, the most twisted, but we all get to own our damned demons. Earned the right to them after we were cast into the Waste. They burn us up once a year on Hollow Night.

Fucking the aftermath of the Hunger right out of each other with the rise of the dawn is nothing new. But almost dying...yeah that was a new one.

Our blood is stirring. The more I strike him, the more I bite him, feel his need down to my fucking bones.

Again, my mind calms with the taste of his blood, the velvet sac I curve my fingers around, the strong, muscled thighs clenching to brush my thick forearm. I grind against him, too close to losing control. And I won’t fucking let him get the better of me. Not the first time Mayce has outlasted me with his goddamn control. The Fae fucking over the dragon.

But I am High King. I remind him with another round of hard, burning spanks with my palm until he’s quivering, sweating. All his muscles expand and contract to mirror the blows. His balls are as firm and high as mine. Most of all, I love that dark hole of Sodom opening for my wicked finger, then closing tight like a sucking mouth. Soon enough he’ll suck my cock.

When his growl mixes with a shriek, when his back arches and the bones in his shoulders thrust through the skin, I spread those hard, flaming globes, admiring the dark, winking hole. As Mayce throws back his head, I flex my hips and thrust hard past that filthy, hot ring, glorying in my partner’s howl at his ruinous wings unleashing and splaying wide. By the dawn, they’ll be gone.

“Blazing hell!” he says through clenched teeth.

Buried here, with him sucking me in, gripping me so tight and hot, and his beautiful, glazed eyes like a fine whiskey gazing back at me, I forget all about the Curse. Mayce bows his wingtips to the edge of the bed.

In this moment of him submitting to me, he never looks more vulnerable, more beautiful. Only now can I shed the dragon until we are man to man, curse-brother to curse-brother. Nothing but our masculine edges, our hunger, feverish blood, and our bodies coming together in a savage battle. Warriors. Friends. Lovers. A bond stronger than the magic and demons between us.

Now, I slide deeper. Our groans overlap as I push and push until I’m so deep inside, I can go no further. Licking a trail along the Fae’s spine, I grip his hips and start to rock. I’m stretching him. Thick enough that it burns, but judging by that impressive organ bulging and glistening with precum and his pretty lips open, Mayce is feeling as much pleasure. I’m fucking the tension and fear right out of both of us.

It requires no less power for him. We’re both predators, primal and passionate. I need Mayce as much as he needs me. I might be the fucking protector of our foursome, but he’s my goddamned armor. Without Mayce, the three of us would’ve been lost to the Waste centuries ago, roaming the endless wilderness of the dead worlds as brittle corpses until we’d faded to dust and ash. My exquisitely masculine, beautiful, lethal monster.

Finally, I release my wings, rock them against the backs of his. Coupled, they mate as we do. His wings shimmer the more I thrust into him. A roar works in my throat, and I know I’m about to blow my load. Fine scales cut through my fucking muscle, hardening my cock with their armor. Sensitive armor, nonetheless. The scales that grow on my cock at the peak of my arousal are full of goddamned nerves.

As I drive my thrusts deeper, power-fucking into my partner and listening to his pulse thundering harder, I twist my fingers around his shaft.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” he yells.

I pant and command, “Now, Mayce.”

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