Page 12 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

Still watching through the glass with my back to the room, I swallow past a sudden dryness in my throat.

Lucius’ knot, which made its first appearance when Zara stopped taking her birth control, is a recent addition to our harem.

I fuck Lucius, but I don’t bend for him, so my direct experience with that portion of his anatomy is still limited.

However, whenever that knot makes an appearance, Zara and Ronin (and Neo, who hasn’t yet been knotted, but is clearly curious) are quite enamored.

“Oh, I dunno. Bit much to handle, isn’t it?” With a mischievous upward look, Ronin finishes slipping Lucius’ buttons and pushes open the monogrammed shirt to lick a slow swipe up our wolf’s hard belly over his hairy chest. “Why don’t you make me take it?”

With a sudden growl, our headmaster tosses the book aside, then rolls to pin Ronin beneath him.

“Oppositional defiance,” Lucius informs the room grimly. “Which, as you’re all well aware, I never care to tolerate.”

Our wolf’s fangs drop and his elegant scholar’s hands sprout talons.

Of course Ronin is laughing, like the maniacal imp he is. Lucius dives in to shut him up with a hard claiming kiss.

Neo gives a rather adorable squeak of mingled surprise and excitement. Zara’s inner dragon purrs like a cat as she wiggles around and wraps herself around Neo, so she’s straddling his lap on the bench.

Our bookworm spans her waist with his big hands and buries his face in her gorgeous breasts, pushed up so delectably by her tangerine lace. Her face softens and her eyes grow heavy with pleasure.

Over Neo’s magenta mop of curls, Zara’s gaze finds me, standing in solitary splendor with my back to the room.

Holding my stare in the glass, she reaches deftly behind to pop the clasp of her brassiere, then lets the lacy scrap drop. The tiny pale triangles of her bikini tan lines leap into view, framing the globes of her full breasts.

Neo’s moan, coupled with the sight of my girl’s aureolae and pierced nipples, swells my boner nearly to the breaking point.

Especially when Zara pulls our First Boy’s tee shirt over his head to bare the pale skin and muscled shoulders we all love to mark.

The pearly crescent of Zara’s mating bite gleams beside the pinpoint pricks of my precise double punctures, like a sickle moon and stars, along the side of his neck.

Beyond the pair of them, locked together on the vanity bench while Zara winds her arms around Neo’s neck and wiggles the crotch of her boy-cut briefs against his chinos, Ronin and Lucius are tussling violently on the bed.

Ronin fists Lucius’ hair and, with a rough pull, frees the unruly chestnut curls from their confinement to tumble over Lucius’ shoulders.

My co-alpha is already half shifted (because it turns out Ronin likes that quite a bit). Now he snarls and wrestles Ronin’s jeans down his thighs.

“Come on then,” Ronin mutters, egging him on, even while he puts up a bruising struggle, because he knows Lucius (secretly) likes a little non-con with his role play. “You fancy making me take your knot? You going to rail me till I beg you to stop?”

“You’ll beg, but I won’t listen,” Lucius says gruffly, practically beyond human speech at this point. His pelt is spreading across his rangy back, the brutish snarl of primal instinct overwhelming his orderly thoughts in our mating bond.

Oh, he’ll remain firmly bipedal, out of deference to our collective sensibilities. But he certainly looks and feels primed to fuck Ronin senseless.

Admittedly, I’m feeling a trifle overheated myself.

Zara is still watching me, standing with my back to the room, even while Neo suckles and kneads her pretty tits and nuzzles the punctures of my mating scars on her breast.

The first night we mated, I bit the little queen like the Egyptian asp biting Cleopatra in Shakespeare’s play. A few weeks ago, I bit her again for good measure. And I’ve never for a moment regretted it.

Bite or no bite, given my latest misdemeanor, I haven’t been certain Zara will want anything to do with me tonight.

To be honest, I’m still wondering.

Holding her gaze in the glass, I tug loose the sash at my waist so my kimono falls open.

I haven’t bothered with PJ’s tonight. Most of my lingerie collection is back at the domus .

Thus, my cock juts before me like an inquisitive antenna. (Darling, don’t laugh. I’d never be so cliché as to call it a sword or a battering ram or, God forbid, a trouser snake.) Besides, the analogy works, because I’m actively searching for a signal.

I know from experience that Lucius needs his space while he and that knot of his are wolfing out over Ronin. Until my co-alpha has soundly subdued and knotted our mischievous mate, I won’t challenge Lucius by moving in on Ronin.

But Neo, sweet Neo, is always more than happy to share.

The real question is whether Zara will let me anywhere near her tonight.

One way to find out, Goblin King , she whispers through our bond. Her tone is mocking, hard to read, and I don’t entirely trust her in this mood.

But, through the link between us, her dragon purrs a welcome.

Still holding my queen’s challenging stare, I trail a hand down the sleek plane of my chest, feeling my nipples stiffen under my own teasing touch. My palm flattens along my abs, twitching with restless heat.

I’m still standing with my back to the room. But I’m the dominant alpha in this polycule.

By the time my fingertips trail along the exquisitely sensitive length of my cock in a slow stroke from base to tip, all my lovers are very much aware of what I’m doing.

Even the demon’s watchful presence next door sharpens to a sudden edge. He too is keenly aware of me, in a way I hadn’t anticipated, since my plan was never to mate him.

Well, let him watch. I rarely mind an audience.

When my own slick oozes from my swollen cockhead, I swipe my index finger through the mess, then bring it to my lips for a playful suck.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” Zara breathes on a moan.

I smirk around my finger at the naked craving in her face. Simultaneously, my free hand wraps around my aching dick in a long slow pull.

Dear fuck. I’m so hard I’m nearly bursting.

But I’m not moving an inch closer to my queen until I’m utterly certain I won’t be rebuffed, so she’s simply going to have to ask—

The soft thud of boots against the rain-hammered deck jerks my gaze from Zara’s lamplit reflection to the view through the glass.

Directly before me, a lithe body, clad in green dragonscale, rises swiftly from a crouch.

A feral Fae face, divided by the slash of a green eyepatch, lifts alertly to find my startled features.

Beyond, I catch a flash of pale belly as his massive dragon wings away.

Apparently, this reckless Fae leaped from dragonback—buffeted by gale-force winds—to the miniscule moving target of the master cabin’s private deck.

So much for loyal Ash, waiting patiently above at the helm like a faithful hound for his consort’s return.

Hand still wrapped around my throbbing cock, I huff out a wry breath.

Our new arrival’s jade eye sweeps over me and narrows on my length.

His lips part to reveal his tiny Unseelie fangs.

Then, more slowly, his gaze retraces the terrain of my body—inch by tingling inch—until he locks on my face.

As torrents of rain plaster his green hair to his head and shoulders, his eyelid lowers in a slow blink.

Well, what else can I do? I deploy the lifted Romanov eyebrow with a sneer.

His jaw hardens and his lips press together. With an eerie burst of inhuman speed, the Dark Fae King fires into motion, opens the sliding door, and darts into the sanctum of our shared bedroom.

“I trust I don’t intrude at an awkward moment.” He spares a smirk at my prominent boner, sweeps the room with a keen stare that takes in Zara and Ronin—both his lovers, as the rest of us are not—then drops his wadded cloak onto a chair with a soft exhale that speaks (very subtly) of relief.

A gust of cool rain blows in with him to spatter my overheated body.

Irritably, I release my dick and slide the door shut behind Zephyr, His Moon-Dazzled Radiance, the lah-dee-dah Dark Fae King…

And my deadly rival.

“Mmmm, just in time, Your Radiance,” Zara murmurs, still wrapped around Neo on the vanity bench. “We missed you, for real.”

“Not all of us,” I mutter, sotto voce , turning irritably to watch as Zephyr bends to toe out of his wet boots. I take a vicious pleasure in noting that Unseelie is dripping all over Theo Mercury’s Aubusson carpet.

The Dark Fae King, whose pointed ears possess extremely acute hearing, glances up with a mocking twist. “Pray don’t allow me to interrupt what you were just doing, Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov. Your need appears to be most… pressing.”

That single scornful look—encompassing my aching erection and dismissing my need with a shrug—makes me hum with rage. A vicious spike of temper, honed by arousal to a deadly point, spurs me swiftly across the carpet to loom over him.

Seemingly unconcerned by my proximity, the fool sheds one boot and shifts his attention to the other.

I glare down at his bent head, delicate ears exposed in a spill of wet green hair, the nape of his neck a sleek handspan of bare olive skin.

The crossed swords strapped to his armored back form an X over his shoulders like a warning sign that reads Do Not Touch .

His spicy-sweet scent of burnt amber and nutmeg invades my brain.

Invading his space in return, I rear over him like the pit viper they all call me.

“Why should I tend to the matter myself?” Deliberately, I shrug out of my kimono and let it fall. Fully naked and hard as fuck, I angle one hip and pose before him with a smirk. “You might as well make your radiant self useful… while you’re down there.”