Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,163
hair, the other plunging down my skirt and cupping me between my thighs. I gasped when he wrenched my head to the side, then squealed when he pounced. A pinprick of pain always bloomed before the explosion of pleasure, a vampire’s venom inducing an orgasm unlike any I had ever experienced. No matter how I was feeling, no matter where my mind was, a bite from Rafe made me come like we had been at it for hours, like he had worked me into such a frenzy that I just might die if he didn’t let me sink into oblivion.
Eyes clenched shut, I halfheartedly pushed at him, twisting at his jacket and squirming against his steely frame, hopelessly pinned as he drank from me. Fae fireworks paled in comparison to the bursts of light and color pinwheeling behind my lids, and my legs drifted apart like they had a mind of their own, allowing Rafe in. Through the blinding haze of pleasure, of ecstasy coursing through my veins and sapping the fight from my limbs, I vaguely felt him massaging me, grinding the base of his hand into my clit so that my cries turned squeaky with every fiery flare in my belly.
He only relented when the others arrived, walking into a scene already underway, chuckling amongst themselves. When Rafe reared back, my blood smeared his mouth, dribbled down his neck—stained my lovely dress—and he dragged me away from the wall, showing me off for Elijah and Fintan with a few clicks of his tongue.
“She’s fucking shitfaced,” the vampire announced, his eyes bloodshot and his voice rough. I twisted out of his hold, a touch light-headed but perfectly capable of handling myself after his bite. I mean, this wasn’t the first time—not even of this trip—and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
“Am not,” I protested, adding a childish stomp just to make them grin like the wolfish predators they were in the bedroom—three men who catered to me everywhere else, who spoiled me, kissed me sweetly in the rain, and protected me from outsiders.
Who had their way with me behind closed doors, rough and unrelenting, dominant and brutal and mine.
Before I could recite every drop of fae wine I’d had to drink tonight, Elijah swept in, his hulking frame wrapped in maroon; golden hair like a halo, body dressed for sin, my dragon was the best of both worlds. He jerked me to him with a firm hand on my lower back, then dragged his tongue from my bare shoulder all the way up to my ear, his deep rumble making my sex clench and my belly loop with anticipation.
He hummed, deep and dangerous, eyes burning into the side of my face as he nudged me back into the center of the trio. “She tastes like fae wine.”
“Gentlemen, if I may?” Fintan interjected, all prim and proper in a dark grey suit almost identical to Elijah and Rafe’s, down to the pearl buttons and golden cuffs with slits in the back for his wings, his lofty accent hammed up now that he was back home. He took a prowling step toward me, then another when I scampered back and bumped into Rafe’s chest again. The fae prince cocked his head to the side, mouth stretched in a sinful smile, and nodded down to my skirt. “I believe you are missing the most important elixir of all…”
I zipped around Rafe when Fintan lunged for me with a starved look in his eye, my giggle arcing into a squeal when I felt him swipe at my flowing skirts. Unlike my prowling vampire, my fae saw no reason to creep in the shadows, to take advantage of the permanent night offered in his court. He pursued me down the rest of the corridor at a steady clip, jogging compared to my full-tilt bolt, perfectly capable of catching me in a heartbeat if he so chose, his wings an exquisite deep amber and protruding from the back of his suit.
Instead, he let me stumble into the double doors that peeled open into his bedroom, the tower soaring overhead, filled with rooms for pleasure and bathrooms like world-class spas and walk-in closets the size of my Seattle apartment. I shoved at the huge wood panels, the constellation Fintan lorded as an earl carved into the oak, and then barreled through when the locks mysteriously gave way.
Mysteriously. Right. All three of my men enjoyed letting me think I had bested them—and then thoroughly proving that I