Page 100 of Hearts of Stone

My hand clenched down around Carrick’s pearls, forcing a roar from him, one that was a twin to Graven’s as my hips tilted back and he thrust his hips forward again. My whole body fought that last pearl, even as I loved that stretch, my teeth locking together as I groaned right as it popped in. I tilted my head sideways offering my neck. Graven’s claws raked across the bite mark Seneca had left, then he added his own beside it and the whole world fell away.

“Graven…”

I clung to him, loving the broad span of his shoulders, the weight of him as he snarled into my neck, not being responsible or deferential, just taking what was his for once. He was claiming me in the savage way gargoyles had since the Fall and like every witch before me, I felt my heart lighten to such a point it was almost painful. Graven lifted his head, licking his fangs, then raised himself up on his forearms to give one final, deep thrust. I watched Carrick erupt all over my chest, his cum feeling like a blessing as it fell upon my skin. Then, when Graven fell still, Seneca moved closer to my side, pulling me against him. There was pleasure, so much pleasure, but more than that, there waslove. They hadn’t been free before, so when they’d gifted me their hearts it had been almost predetermined. But now? I lifted my head and kissed Graven and let Seneca pull me closer again, before turning my head to do the same to him.

Graven hissed as he pulled free of my body, and Seneca timed his stroke perfectly. Before I could get used to that emptiness, Seneca thrust into me from behind, filling me back up. His progress was made easier by our combined lubrication, so he was able to seat himself deep before settling back against the bed.

“There you are…”

His voice was almost a lullaby and I knew why. My body felt heavy, my eyelids fluttering closed before flicking back open again, each time he pushed inside me. This was a long, slow, rocking fuck that had my head rolling back against his shoulder.

“Now doesn’t that feel good?” he asked me in a soft voice. His hand smoothed over my belly. “Just like this. Just like this.”

“And maybe a little something extra.” Graven was sitting back on his heels, his chest still heaving, watching as Carrick crawled along the bed like a big cat, with his black eyes focussed on his prey: me. “You’re tired, Jade. Just one more and then you sleep.” His focus shifted to Seneca. “So for once your lack of stamina will be a benefit, not a hindrance.”

“Stop flapping your gums,” Seneca snapped back. “If you’re going to move your mouth, then do something useful with it.”

“Oh, I shall.”

Carrick stared down, smiling each time my body moved in time with Seneca’s strokes, his lips trailing across my breasts, sucking rhythmically on one nipple, then moving to the other when I stiffened, his liquid, pulsing caress forcing my hips back harder to meet Seneca’s strokes. But he wasn’t satisfied with just that. As my body undulated, his kisses dropped lower and lower but not low enough. My hand shot out and I forced him betweenmy legs. I felt the rumble of his laughter against my skin as he held himself off.

“Right here, Mistress?”

“NotMistress, I—”

“My love.”

He said the words just before flicking his tongue out. I felt like it curled around the base of my clit, the sensation deeper, more intense, right before he flicked it upwards, making my whole body shake. He did it over and over again, Seneca moving in time, until I was drawn up again in a lazy spiral of pleasure I never wanted to come down from. Just as I reached my peak, I saw something shift in the mirror. Not Graven, nor Carrick or Seneca, or even me. It was a slight woman with bobbed hair. She gazed down at me with a smile filled with mischief, and then, as I hit the heights, she turned and walked out the door.

My orgasm drove all thoughts out of my brain. I could only feel one great galloping wave after another as my whole body shook with each one. Over and over. I’d feel like it was about to taper off, but Seneca would move or Carrick would, and that’d set me off again. It was only when I begged them to stop that Seneca thrust up hard, sending a scalding hot burst of seed inside me that gushed and gushed. He released so much that it began to seep free. I was dimly aware of thinking that it would need to be cleaned up before my head tumbled onto the soft pillow, and I lay there wedged between my males.

“Sleep now, sweetness,” one of them said, stroking my hair and all I could do was nod in agreement.

Today had been eye-opening, exhausting and confusing, but I’d realised that when I was home everything seemed to fall into place. And with that sense of contentment in my heart, I began to fall asleep. As I drifted into the half-world of dreams, though, I realised that she had come with me; was ahead of me.

I dreamed I was walking down the main stairs of the house and towards the front door, trailing after the woman I’d seen in the mirror. She turned and looked over her shoulder, smiling encouragingly as she opened the front door. Her feet seemed to just skim over the grass, but I followed her out of the house, the two of us making a beeline for Z Ward.

When I realised our destination, however, I stopped.

“Come on,” the woman said, gesturing me forward, and my feet moved of their own accord. “I set that bedroom of yours to rights, got rid of that satyr wine before it could stain anything, but I’ve got other messes to clean up now. These are old ones.” Her nose wrinkled. “So we can only hope they don’t stain.”

I didn’t want to go to Z Ward, not even in my dreams, but I seemed powerless to refuse. It was like we were tied by an invisible rope, one that pulled me along as she started to move. Past the moon-gilded roses and around the great willow trees we went, until we came to a stop, a short distance from the gates. She gazed up at the tall stone posts, not even flinching a bit when two massive claws wrapped themselves around the steel bars, little sparks of electricity exploding off the metal in response. That strange catlike smile of hers only widened as she drew closer, her steps long, slow and measured like she was in a wedding march, until she stopped just short of the gate.

“Hello, Wulfstan, you magnificent beast,” she said.

“Madeline?” he rumbled in response.

Chapter 55

Wulfstan

I’d heard other gargoyles describe that moment we turned from stone to flesh as coming back to ourselves, but it was never that for me. Consciousness, having a living, breathing body; it didn’t bring me back to myself, but rather to hell.

Confusion.

I glanced around me wildly, saw deep shadows and harsh moonlight. What was real and what wasn’t? I heard the sounds of screams, of the pathetic, sobbing pleas for this all to be over, for it to be done, but when I looked around, I was the only living creature in this cage. My stone brothers remained as they had been, frozen by the steps of the ward.

Disorientation.

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