Crave’s eyes glittered crimson in the dark, before his lips ghosted against mine. My pulse fluttered in my neck, and I leaned forward.
Just a little more…come on…
Two kisses in one night would mean…touch, love, and someone both desired and wanted me.
It’d mean two more kisses than I’d ever had before.
Incubi were experienced, right? Crave wouldn’t be able to tell that I hadn’t popped my cherry…?
I clasped Crave’s hips more firmly, but he only giggled against my lips.
Then he whispered, “Your sexy self doesn’t get travel sick…?”
Pulled out of my haze (could incubi mesmerize?), I mumbled, “Hmm…? Is that the lead into a dodgy pickup line about riding your spaceship because if so, I applaud your traditional approach.”
Then my eyes widened, as the gargoyle winked at me and its mouth opened impossibly wide, sucking Crave and me into the darkness.
Chapter Six
BASK
The gargoyle dragon sucked Fox and me through into the West Wing for the mage’s first night as my new whipping boy. Strange, but as his hold on my hips tightened, his touch didn’t hurt but only burned deliciously.
All the pleasure without the pain was brilliant. I could get used to that.
I treated myself to a sniff of his curly hair. He smelled like sweet wild raspberries tangled beneath a yew tree…or like my sexy Voyeur Ghost had claimed him first.
My ma once told me that non-magical scientists believe the center of the galaxy smells like raspberries. Fox already smelled like he was my center.
I should’ve just told him the dick chat-up line about the spaceship.
I shivered at the memory of Voyeur Ghost and how I’d sensed her returning my love tonight, just before I’d come so hard my dick almost exploded. I’d never loved a ghost before, maybe Exploding Pleasure Dick was her curse.
It was worth it.
This new Rebel looked like he’d faint if I turned on too much of the incubi charisma (away with you, it’s a thing), and also like he didn’t have a clue how hot he was. At least he’d been accepted by my angel…queen…goddess…
I sighed. What was above goddess because Voyeur Ghost didn’t feel like any of those pet names? I’d never had to choose something to whisper to a lover before but I thought that my other attempts of Spooky Snookums or Witchy Pants would lead to less Exploding Pleasure Dick and more blue balls. Yet I felt as green as Fox looked from the sudden trip through the gargoyle to only imagine her as just another wicked witch.
The pink fires blazed in the braziers, warming me after the freezing chill of the bailey. Snow trickled down the back of my neck in melting trails. An aroma like bonfires sparking with rich magic wrapped around me.
I let go of my whipping boy’s hand (Rule 7 of the Incubi Night Code states: You can never be too possessive), and his legs buckled, before he collapsed onto the polished stone. His suitcase lay crushed next to him with its contents vomited over the floor. He looked like he’d copy it and puke too. I didn’t know why he appeared so embarrassed. After all, I’d already seen him in a diaper.
And he’d made almost as adorable a baby as I had.
Humming Madonna’s “Crave” because multi-tasking was winning, I shot a cheeky glance over my shoulder at my arse.
Yep, still pettable.
I grinned at the sound of Sleipnir’s guitar music (my gorgeous god would love this new magical student who I’d brought home for him…or he wouldn’t, he was hard to read), I patted the mage on the shoulder. “Poor wee Fox. Transportation around the castle is tough on humans.”
“There’s nothing wee about me,” Fox attempted to snarl, whilst actually whimpering and clutching his guts. Cute. “Can’t you see how tight my pants are? My third arm is busting out.”
I snickered, patting him on the head this time. “Wee.”
His eyes widened, before he staggered to his feet. He spun around, staring at the room in shock. My guts roiled because I understood. I’d only been dropped off (abandoned made me sound too much like a dog), last term, once the Duchess had broken her bond with me. Should I point out to him that there was also no TV or wi-fi or would that spark a full-blown panic attack?
Had I looked just as terrified?
Wait, the way that Fox was eying my nest of blankets and satin pillows (had I hidden Nile well enough because no one was snuggling my plushie but me), made him look like more of a cat than Pocus, at the same time as if he also had the urge to piss all over them.
There would be no pissing on my bed, me, or Nile, even in kinky fun, and that was non-negotiable.
I needed Nile for the times that I was desperate for soft touch, and Sleipnir was meanly studying, playing his guitar, or eating. Even Voyeur the goddess Ghost couldn’t sway me…maybe…oh, who was my slinky self kidding, everything was negotiable to her.
Except, was it Sleipinir, my Rebel god (I covered the never being too possessive…?), who Fox was eying like he wanted to piss on him…?
When I whacked my own forehead to clear that image, Fox shot me a wary glance. Then he ran his hand through his damp hair, turning to scrutinize Sleipnir, who lounged on the bed in a sprawl of long limbs and guitar.
As always, Sleipnir looked like insolence had been invented for him alone. His cotton candy pink hair fell in gentle spikes, which matched his eyes. He wasn’t wearing the uniform’s blazer and had wrapped his tie around his neck like a bandanna. I wished that I could pull off that look. Note to self: try to pull off more daring looks. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal shimmering sea serpent tattoos that coiled like they were alive. He strummed the haunting melody of “Mad World” by Gary Jules, which crept through me, as if it was infused with magic. He didn’t even look up at Fox or me, which was the downside of living with dominant Immortals who acted like, well, gods.
This incubus didn’t do ignored. It must be in the Night Code somewhere. Probably towards the back.
I shot Sleipnir a coy look, before snuggling against Fox’s chest. Then I shook at how much I needed…craved…the touch like a fever heating my skin. “I wished for another student, and now we have our own whipping boy.”
Sleipnir still didn’t look up as he drawled with a cultured New York accent, “I’m delighted that you’re excited.”
You know, Sleipnir should’ve taught lessons on How to Slay with Sarcasm.
Fox’s expression became haughty. “You should be, after all, I’m secretly King of the Supernaturals. I’m only in hiding here from my wicked stepmother, and it’s your job to serve me until I ascend to rule you all.”
The mage truly was my little bundle of lies. He was going to be fun.
I rolled my eyes. “Get on with you, I saw your file, remember?”
Fox deflated. “Whoops…?”
Then he stiffened. His breathing became too fast and ragged, but he dropped his gaze to try and hide it.