Page 64 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

Zephyr

“I have not entirely forgiven thee for the kraken, Vasili Romanov,” I warn my nemesis in this harem, falling back on formal dialect for maximum effect. “Thy treacherous plan to recruit my enemy as thine ally in this harem. All thy sly and snakish schemes have now fallen to ruin.”

“Oh, bloody hell, will you two get over this blooming rivalry?” my Ronin demands.

He’s naked and furious, in part because we’ve finally trapped him in a corner, and his ego doesn’t care for being bested at his own game.

“Vasili knows he bollocksed it all up. Don’t you, love?

But it’s all worked out in the end, yeah? ”

“For most of us.” Vasili spares a pensive glance for my ossified cousin in the pool, still a tangle of stone tentacles and gaping beak—a sight I’ve been careful to pretend I find entirely untroubling. “I’ll admit this wasn’t entirely the outcome I intended.”

“Not bloody done yet, though, are we?” Despite his annoyance at being cornered, Ronin is violently erect. The heavy silver ring of his Prince Albert piercing, like the dragon tattoo that twines around his torso, is an adornment he added during our years apart.

I can’t get enough of it. Or of him.

“Stop mouthing off to your king and come here, you rascal.” I wrap a hand around Ronin’s wrist and reel him in while he grumbles and resists, which merely serves to inflame me further.

Vasili smirks at me over his shoulder and closes in behind him. We’ve both been stripping while we hunted. All of us driven, I dare say, by the electrifying impact of my scrumptious bride being double-dicked and ridden hard by the wolf and the dragon.

Zara’s moans and sobs and cries of pleasure, coupled with her shifters’ guttural growls, are still making the walls hum.

By now, Vasili Romanov is nearly naked, his Academy uniform scattered across the floor, mingled with my swords and boots and dragonscale.

Vasili has retained only a pair of mouthwatering black lace panties stretched over his pretty cock.

That tease of a garment cups his perky ass the way my hands will shortly do.

Together, he and Ronin are striking.

These two have loved long and true, all those years while I skulked behind the Avalon portal licking my wounds and stoking my rage.

I swear they are perfect. Perfect for each other, yes. But also perfect for me.

Ronin is flame-eyed and tawny-skinned and powerful, black mane slithering around the potent flex of a warrior’s muscle. Aloft, he commands any saddle like the dragonrider he was born to be.

Like the wily fuck he is, Ronin wields every atom of his sexual appeal to taunt and torment.

Whereas Vasili is deceitful and vicious and fiendishly clever.

Slim and pale as cream poured from a pitcher, all balletic grace and supple strength, crowned by a shag of gilded hair that frames sharp cheekbones, delicate jaw, and cruel mouth.

His ice-blue eyes flash warning beacons as I pounce on Ronin like a hunting dragon and drag him into my arms.

“Come on, love.” Ronin reaches behind him to reel Vasili in too. “I’d really fancy seeing the two of you share a proper snog.”

Over Ronin’s shoulder, our gazes lock.

Mine and Vasili’s.

An electric current of raw desire, laced with aggression and domination, arcs between me and my horrid nemesis.

Then one corner of Vasili’s mouth curls in a wicked grin. “Oh, but we’ve already kissed and made up. I’m terribly afraid you’ve missed it.”

Ronin’s expectant face falls with disappointment.

This, I cannot endure.

“Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov, by the Goddess, you are the most provoking creature.” I pin Ronin against my violently erect cock with one arm, wrap my free hand in Vasili’s silver hair, and drag the Goblin King into a claiming kiss.

Zara calls this one her dominant alpha, a title that invariably makes me fulminate, while the insufferable creature himself preens like a peacock.

Still, this vicious rival yields to me. Vasili tucks up against Ronin’s fine ass and sighs a note of tolerance (if not submission) into my mouth.

His serpent’s tongue slips between my lips to lick my tiny fangs.

Simultaneously, his silken fingers graze my exquisitely sensitive ear tip.

That searing moment of foreplay, intensely sexual for any Fae, nearly launches me into orbit.

“That’s it,” Ronin says, thick and husky, nuzzling my neck and kneading my ass with his scorching flamethrower hands. “Be nice to each other. For Zara’s sake, if not for mine.”

“’Tis done for both your sakes,” I mutter between feverish kisses that set my soul alight. “Always. And for Ash, who also desires this snake for some godforsaken reason.”

Slippery as an eel, that imp of a Ronin chuckles and wiggles out from between me and my nemesis.

All too suddenly, I am holding Vasili in my arms.

With Ronin wrapped around both of us.

I don’t entirely protest. Not when Ronin’s mischievous hands are busily easing those inflammatory panties down Vasili’s long legs. I fist Vasili’s hair, soft as cobwebs in my grip, and slot his wicked mouth more deeply into mine.

Once we’ve disposed of Vasili’s alluring lingerie, Ronin nudges into the kiss too, his hot tongue slicking against mine and Vasili’s.

This shared kiss is messy and chaotic and wonderful.

I’m still accustoming myself to this maelstrom of sensation—Vasili’s sleek cool body twining around me like a python, Ronin’s hot mouth and fingers dancing along our joined limbs like tongues of flame—when Ronin sneaks a hand between us.

His bold grip wraps around my aching shaft and fits me up against the curving length of Vasili’s pretty cock.

I’m obliterated.

Ruined.

Immolated by this first incendiary flash of intimate contact, cock to cock, with my rival king.

This terrible creature I have envied and distrusted and hated.

This lover who replaced me, who claimed all the decadent delights of Ronin’s wicked body and tempestuous soul during those endless years when Ronin thought me dead.

The one Zara has placed first above all others—even me, a male born to rule, with a kingdom at my feet—in her harem.

My eye locks on Vasili’s startled face.

His pretty lips part to expose the tips of his fangs. His cock twitches and pulses against mine. His smooth brow furrows. The point of one razor-sharp fang presses into his lower lip.

“Thou art mine now, beautiful one,” I whisper, under the rhythmic rising whimper of the relentless reaming Neo is giving Ash nearby.

Hearing me assert my claim, Ronin sucks in a sharp breath.

“Hmmmm.” Vasili tilts his head to study me. The eyepatch that hides my deformity. The pointed ears that proclaim me other . The dragon-honed strength of my naked shoulders and biceps.

At last, his gaze falls to the turgid shaft jutting from the lick of green between my legs.

Then, like the demon he is, Vasili smirks. One lid lowers in a playful wink. “I beg to differ, Your Tumescence. I’m not yours. You’re mine .”

“Bloody hell. The two of you. Not boring with you lot in the harem, I’ll give you that.” With a chuff of laughter, Ronin wraps his fist around both of us—my aching shaft and Vasili’s—and jacks our dicks together. Base to crown and back again.

The intensity of feeling both of them, both my lovers, old and new, rolls my eye back in my head under a tidal wave of obliterating pleasure.

When my vision clears, I’m kissing both of them together, frotting both of them together, slinging my pelvis into the punishing rhythm of Ronin’s ruthless fist. I work a hand between us to find the jut of Ronin’s pierced dick, because he too deserves pleasure, and pump him until he moans and writhes.

“Darlings,” Vasili gasps into our heated kiss. “You’ll come when I tell you… both of you… and not a moment sooner.”

“Thou art an arrogant creature, boastful and vain,” I gasp. “But damn the moon if you haven’t stolen my soul.”

I have observed how strongly Vasili Romanov is affected when his mates tell him they love him.

I’m not quite using the word love myself with this dangerous and deceitful creature.

Not yet.

But my admission strays perilously close. And, after all, he knows I cannot lie.

Vasili arches into Ronin’s fist, throws his head back, and cries out to heaven as his climax boils through him.

The first splash of my rival king’s hot seed against my dick sets me off like a witchfire explosion.

Blinding pleasure gathers at the base of my spine, coils in my balls, and boils down my shaft. I erupt with a shout into Ronin’s pistoning fist, my cock spasming wildly in his grip, and anoint all three of us with a generous libation of royal Unseelie semen.

The ruthless rhythm of my fist around Ronin’s cock ignites him too. The heavy ring of his piercing bounces against my fingers. The hot splatter of his cum drenches my hand and drips obscenely down my torso.

From the Horn of Ceres, a kaleidoscope of colored light shatters against the walls.

The wild display bathes the golden ceiling and paints the writhing tangle of our naked bodies in flickers of pink and violet and cobalt fire.

The howl of Lucius’ wolf, the bellow of my beloved Ash finding his own release with our sweet Neo, and my bride’s triumphant scream of climax make my ears ring.

Even the kitten voices a startled mew.

The empathic bond I share with my dragon, standing sentinel over the crypt stairs to protect us during this precious sacred interlude, hums with Xhevith’s excitement and satisfaction and love.

Completely spent and sated in every conceivable way, I slump limp and boneless into my lovers’ embrace. In a moment of weakness, I even deign to allow my forehead to rest on the convenient shelf of Vasili’s shoulder.

I breathe in deep his powerful mating scent. Caramel and musk and birchwood.

“Now… by the moon… I forgive you…” I pant into the pounding pulse under my lips “…for the kraken.”

“Hells’ bells, cuz. Will you please get over yourself?” The familiar drawl of Mordred’s voice snaps my head up with a cry.

My eye locks on the familiar annoyance of a flamboyant cousin who’s taller, more muscled, more liked, more sought-after in our youth than a sullen, bookish, introverted slim-boned Fae like myself could ever hope to be.

Mordred is fully himself again, more’s the pity. I am exposed to the full effect of his midnight-blue hair and copper skin and the twin dimples bracketing his goatee in a mocking grin.

“Mordred,” Vasili murmurs, still spent but visibly pleased to see the sex demon bane of my entire existence lurking at our side. “Thank fuck. It seems our public orgy has achieved the intended effect.”

At the moment, I cannot see past him to the sea dragon. Cleopatra. She is my cousin, her Dark Fae sire was my uncle, and I would not wish her ill—if not for her monumental offenses against Zara.

But my rivalry with Mordred has always been personal.

“Sure did, babydoll. Y’all saved me from a long and boring life as a water ornament.” My cousin’s white teeth flash in his dark face. But his keen purple eyes never veer from mine. “Listen up, Cousin Z. Cuz I’m only gonna say this once.”

“Go ahead,” I say, with as much lordly dignity as I can muster in my current disheveled state, filthy and dripping with three men’s semen. “Since it seems I cannot prevent thee.”

Gently Mordred engulfs my chin in his big hand—greatly to my shock, since we haven’t touched in years.

“Growing up,” he says, low and earnest, “I never wanted your throne. That was always yours. I ain’t my asshole brother. He wanted your throne, and I ain’t sorry he’s dead. All I ever wanted was you .”

“Er…” Utterly befuddled in a most unroyal way, I blink up at him, not at all certain I trust the evidence of my own keen Fae senses. “But you… me…”

“It’s appalling, really,” Vasili intervenes, amusement dancing in his pretty eyes. “It’s practically incestuous. The two of you are literally cousins.”

“Second cousins, once removed.” Still cupping my chin in his big hand, Mordred gives Vasili a playful wink. “That shit’s even legal in the mortal realm.”

“Got a point, he does,” Ronin murmurs, nuzzling my shoulder. “What d’you think, love?”

In truth, I hardly know what to think. I require a moment to ponder my options.

All too clearly, my bride has accepted this insurrectionist sex demon Unseelie kraken into her bed and her heart.

That much became apparent when she fucked him and bit him in the crypt.

As for Mordred, he chose to remain with her—with all of us—willingly. Even after we broke his summoning bond.

These others in our harem—especially Vasili—seem prepared to give the demon the benefit of the doubt.

Well, I am king now. Crowned and throned. Safely wedded to my royal bride. Even if he wished, Mordred can no longer supplant me as the Dark Fae King.

Also, there is the matter of that incendiary closet kiss we shared at my Avalon Academy birthday party all those years ago.

The kiss I’ve never quite forgotten, if I’m being honest (as I must be, for a Dark Fae cannot lie).

Mordred’s fingers tighten infinitesimally on my jaw. He doesn’t like to show it, but he’s afraid of what I’ll say.

Afraid of being hurt.

Afraid of being rejected.

Again.

His fate lies in my hands.

“I suppose,” I say slowly to the circle of expectant faces around me, lovers old and new, “I can learn to live with a sex demon in our harem.”

I wrap my hand in the wet spill of Mordred’s midnight blue hair and draw his mouth to mine in a deep, claiming, not-so-cousinly kiss.