Page 25 of Hearts of Stone

Graven was about to make more declarations, but when he looked up he saw my foot, my leg and the way they parted, a greyish pink tongue flickering over his lips, making me wonder how that would feel between my legs. He swallowed hard, a lump bobbing in his throat, as Carrick shifted back on his heels, his hand sliding lower. He gave that very impressive cock a tug, as though to draw my attention to how hard he was, which was unneeded. I was pretty sure satellites could see what he was packing from space. Like, his dick and the Great Wall of China… I shook my head, trying to stop that hysterical train of thought and bring my focus back to what was in front of me.

“Anything, my…” Carrick started to say, then Graven shot him a dark look. “Mistress. Anything at all. Just make a request of us, any request, and we will see it done.”

“Request?” I cocked an eyebrow. Dreams were fun. You could be far bolder, far braver than you would ever be in real life. “You’re my dream lovers. You should know exactly what I want, shouldn’t you?”

Apparently they did.

They surged to their feet, clustering around me, my body feeling tiny sandwiched between theirs. That was a very nice feeling. Trevor and I were the same height. No, he was slightly shorter than me, and while it made it easy for kissing, it wasn’t my fantasy. This was. When Graven tilted my mouth towards his, moving in, but not kissing me, not yet. When he swept me up into his arms like I barely weighed a thing, then wrapped my thighs around him as he backed me up against Carrick. The other gargoyle’s hands slapped down on my arse, his claws pricking my skin, before his mouth brushed the nape of my neck.

“Gargoyles are made to serve, Mistress,” Graven said in a low voice. “In every way you wish. If bestowing every pleasure upon your body, leaving you gasping until the sun comes up, is what you wish…?”

“Yes…” I panted, “that…”

And with all the confusing blurriness of dreams, I was whisked out of the bathroom and down the hall.

I’d worn a shirt to bed last night, not wanting to see my dimpled arse reflected across the whole ceiling, but that was not what I saw now. Something I’d seen before, I recalled briefly, before being distracted by the sight. Massive grey bodies prowling across the bed like caged lions. And me? I was their prey. Carrick sprawled across the bed, wings flung wide in invitation as Graven laid me down in the space between the other gargoyle’s legs. Carrick tilted my head back, thensmoothed a clawed hand down my throat, the coiled power there enough to tear it out if he wished. Instead he thumbed my pulse and then bent down to kiss me.

“I’ve been forced to iron one of my master’s French cuffs to his satisfaction,” he told me with a lazy smile. “I was made to run off poachers trying to hunt down an old master’s deer, the poor bastards driven to it from hunger. I’ve spent a millennia doing their bidding, but I can say, with all confidence, none have given me as great a command as this. If this is a sign of your reign, Mistress,” and that grin turned wicked, “then I approve.”

I had something to say about that, questions to ask, but all of that was silenced by his kiss.

The first few times I’d kissed Trevor it had been like this, a thrill of excitement rushing through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The touch of Carrick’s lips was like touching an electrical wire rather than cool, hard stone. And when his hand went around my throat, holding me right where I was, as if to stop me from thinking of pulling away, I just groaned. But I had no intention of moving, not when his lips masterfully took mine, his hard, mine soft, as he teased them open. And when my lips parted, he let out an animalistic little growl, right before his tongue slipped past.

His tongue gave me a sense of how it would feel, if that massive body slid down mine and licked between my legs. His tongue was slick, mobile, but also textured slightly in a way no human man’s would ever be. It had a slightly pebbled texture, one that had my tongue twining with his to explore it. But he forced himself back, gasping as he smiled down at me, then turned his focus to Graven.

“Have pity on him, lass.” Carrick’s fingers smoothed down my shoulders as Graven watched every movement hungrily. “He’s a good male, if a little too hidebound.”

“And you play fast and loose with our traditions,” Graven growled, but his brow smoothed out when he looked at me. “This is… This is a great honour for us, Mistress.”

I blinked at that. “You make it sound like a burden, not a pleasure.”

“Never that.” He took my hand and placed it against the severe plane of his cheek and I found myself stroking it, much like I had those pebbles. “This is… important to me.”

Dear god, I couldn’t just conjure up sexy demon-gargoyles, could I? I couldn’t just get boned relentlessly in this dream. I had to create one that had somehow caught feelings, but that didn’t explain why something tugged in my chest as I moved forward.

“If this is important, how should it go?” I asked him gently. He might be imaginary, but somehow his feelings mattered. “Perhaps we should—”

But whatever I was about to suggest, it was quickly forgotten as Graven slammed his mouth down on mine.

Well, alrighty then.

Mr Prim and Proper was a beast when he let himself off the chain, picking me up and pressing me into Carrick’s arms. The other gargoyle took everything he was given, his hands sliding up my ribs, then raking across my soft belly with cruel, clawed hands, right as Graven claimed my mouth. His kiss was fierce, furious, taking my bottom lip and scoring it with his fangs, then kissing the pain away before his tongue thrust in. I opened my mouth, my legs, my arms, feeling like I was caught between a hammer and an anvil, and all I wanted was to be hammered. Graven kissed and kissed me until my mouth stung and my lips throbbed in time with my heart, then pulled slightly back so he was hanging over me.

“Command me to please you,” he said between pants.

“You must please me,” I replied diligently, not sure who was the master now.

“Command me to wring every possible pleasure from your body.”

“Yes, that, I want that.”

His brow creased then as if in pain.

“Command me to treat you in the way you’ve always deserved, as a queen amongst women.”

As I stared at him, my eyes ached, feeling a pain I hadn’t wanted to re-experience, because I knew now what this was. Wish-fulfilment. These two massive beasts were everything Trevor was not and that’s why I had created this dream. The dating world was vicious. I’d had little luck with dating apps, getting ghosted, rude messages or no response at all, making me wonder if I’d ever find anyone who’d actually love me, so instead I dreamed of the perfect males, in place of men.

“Treat me like I’m special,” I said, my voice breaking on the words. “Like I’m precious to you. Pretend like I’m the only woman in the world.”

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