Maxwell raised his hand. “Neither of you are required to present the prizes. I have it on good authority that Zuha Frost is well and we have both seen that Stacy Hess is in good health. If Mr. Graves does not want to utilize his virga in the duel tomorrow morning, that is his prerogative.”
Zuha could be used in the duel?
Demetrius’s sharp eyes borne into him. “You thought you could keep her from me by not having her present? It won’t matter, your connection will be mine after I sever it from your mind tomorrow.”
Several waitstaff came in carrying salads on elaborate trays, only to freeze when they realized that not everyone was seated.
“I don’t think I’ll be joining you for dinner after all,” Wilburn said, turning on his heel to leave the way he’d come.
There was a noise behind him and he looked back to find that Demeter Ingram and stood up, shoving her chair back, her face livid. “You dare spurn my hospitality?”
The entire table had gone quiet, every face masked and stoic. This, apparently, was a grave insult. Good.
“You are the most well-spoken gathering of thieves I have ever met, ma’am,” Wilburn said. “Tomorrow I’m going to break your son’s head open like a piñata and take away what doesn’t belong to him. Good night.”
He turned once again and left.
~
His famulus had all had dinner brought up to them by the House Vespa staff and gladly shared their food with him. Once he’d shed his tailored outfit he joined them and their far superior company. If so much hadn’t been on the line he would have more easily joined in with their laughing and the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between the pair of siblings and the pair of cousins.
After making himself eat several bites he went to bed early. Whatever the next day had in store for him, he needed to be rested. As soon as his head hit the pillow he realized that sleep had sent him a “fuck you very much letter” and decided to take a vacation. Wilburn stared at the ceiling for several long minutes, tried laying on each of his sides, and counting backward from one hundred. Nothing worked.
The door creaked open.
Wilburn raised his head to find two forms silhouetted by the light of the suite’s main room. Then the door closed and they were swallowed by darkness. He could hear them moving though, stepping carefully through his room. If he hadn’t been able to sense exactly who they were through his connection with them, the thoughts he heard coming from them were ‘heard’ in their voices, immediately letting him know that Siobhan and Belinda were in the room with him.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, Siobhan thought, her mental voice tinged with excitement and nervousness. I can’t believe I’m doing this!
Master needs to relax and take his mind off of things, Belinda thought. There is no way he’ll turn us away. I hope he doesn’t turn us away. Please don’t turn us away.
They split up at the foot of his bed and crawled up onto it from either side. Wilburn pushed himself upright and they came to a stop. He smiled. He wasn’t sure how much of their attraction to him was due to his status as a primus or how much might have come before. In that moment he didn’t care. They wanted him and it was a sweet gift that made him smile, both touched and aroused.
“Good evening,” he said, a grin pulling at his mouth. “You girls come here often?”
Belinda gave a very unladylike snort but Siobhan giggled.
“That was terrible,” she said, resuming her crawl up the bed until her face was almost level with his own. “But I hope I’ll be here often.”
They kissed, slowly at first, tongues only just touching, and then more hungrily.
“We’re here to help you sleep,” Belinda said.
Her magical hands slid over his skin, steadily undressing him as he and Siobhan continued to kiss, only breaking it when his night shirt was pulled over his head. Both women enjoyed the sight of him naked through the moonlight coming in from the window, slowly running their hands over his chest and abs, making their way lower and lower until they found his erection. The two exchanged a glance, then moved as one, lowering themselves so that they each brought a mouth to either side of his member.
Wilburn let his head fall back, gasping at the sensation of two mouths licking and kissing up either side of his length. He felt himself twitch with need, craving more, then one of them engulfed him. From the easy way he went into her throat, he recognized Belinda. She bobbed up and down on him several times before pulling away and handing it over to Siobhan.
Siobhan couldn’t take him as deeply and clearly lacked Belinda’s expertise, but she made up for it with enthusiasm, moving up and down twice as fast and lashing her tongue over every inch she could. After a few moments, she pulled back, allowing Belinda to take over at her more sedate and thorough pace, only unlike Belinda she didn’t just hang back. Her mouth found his testicles a few seconds later and she began tonging them with all the enthusiasm she’d attacked his erection with.
When she pulled back, Siobhan moved to take over again, and Belinda stripped herself free of her sleepware, baring herself to his eyes and the moonlight with a shy, but pleased smile, before moving behind Siobhan and divesting her of her clothing. Siobhan stiffened at Belinda’s touch, then relaxed when she saw Wilburn’s gaze riveted to the sight before him. A mischievous grin spread over her face and she turned very deliberately to kiss Belinda so he could see.
That kiss turned into a squeal when Belinda’s hand found her breast. I’m not gay, Siobhan thought frantically. I just kiss girls to turn on the guys. What is she doing? That feels kind of good—Oh!
Belinda’s other hand had snaked its way down Siobhan’s side and between her legs, where she had slid two fingers up inside the red-head. You’re going to feel so good to Master, Belinda though. She eased Siobhan’s thighs apart and scooted her over so that she was straddling Wilburn. Breaking their kiss to grin at Siobhan, Belinda reached down and guided Wilburn’s erection to Siobhan’s now hot and ready entrance.
Grabbing Siobhan by the hips, Belinda pushed her down, burying Wilburn’s length inside of her and making them both cry out. Siobhan was hot and wet, her passage silken and welcoming.
“Oh, God!” Siobhan cried out. “Oh, God!” Why has it never felt like this before?
“That’s it,” Belinda urged. “Ride the Master. Ride him.” Her hand slipped back up, teasing Siobhan’s clit as she rose up and down on Wilburn’s member. Her other hand slid around behind them and gently massaged his sack.
Wilburn thrust his hips upward in time with Siobhan, meeting her every downward movement with a wet slap of flesh. He brought his hands to her breasts, making her gasp, and squeal. A few moments later, she seized up, an orgasm tearing through her body and her thoughts becoming too muddled to make sense of as she fell forward onto his chest, his erection still buried inside of her.
Belinda grinned down at her like the cat that ate the canary. Until Wilburn rolled free and then pulled her underneath him, capturing her mouth with a fierce kiss and thrusting himself inside of her.
She squealed in delight and wrapped her legs around him, thrusting her hips up to meet him. Yes! Yes! Yes! Use me, Master! He kisses so good. I must have pleased him well to get kissed.
Wilburn broke the kiss and kissed his way along her jawline to her ear, where he whispered, “You please me very well, Belinda. Very well.”
She threw her head back and screamed as an orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave. Fluids sprayed from her to coat Wilburn’s thighs as she clamped down so tight he had to quit moving. When she finally came down from her high, she was gasping, and looked up at him, her arms around his shoulders, with absolutely adoring eyes.
“Wow,” Siobhan said from next to them. She had propped herself up on one arm to watch. “Where can I get one of those?”
“Right here,” Wilburn said, moving back and rolling Belinda over on top of Siobhan, who squealed.
“Hey—hey!” she called ou
t from beneath Belinda, who’s heavy breasts were pressing into hers. “I am strictly dickly, okay.”
“Nothing but my dick will go inside of you,” Wilburn agreed, and thrust before she could protest any more.
She threw her head back, squealing, and Belinda took advantage of her position to kiss her neck. “Oh, oh, oh….” Siobhan moaned, her thoughts turning to puddles as pleasure overrode her higher brain functions.
Every time Wilburn withdrew from her, Belinda would thrust her hips forward, grinding her sex into Siobhan’s. Over and over until, just as she was nearing orgasm, Wilburn withdrew and slid home in Belinda, earning curses and protests from Siobhan.
Belinda grinned down at her and shifted up and forward, allowing her to present Siobhan with one of her breasts. Siobhan half gazed-half glared at it and for a moment, then took Belinda’s nipple in her mouth. After several minutes, Belinda stiffened, a small orgasm rippling its way through her. She gave a contented sigh and looked back at Wilburn over her shoulder. “Fuck her, Master. Siobhan has been good girl. Fuck her.”
Withdrawing from Belinda, Wilburn realigned himself with Siobhan and slammed home. He held nothing back, again and again and again slamming into her, making her moan and squeal and claw Belinda’s back until she came, screaming.
Wilburn let her orgasm finish him and he came, buried to the hilt inside of her, spilling his seed until he collapsed. Rolling off of them, he watched as Belinda pulled back from Siobhan and eyed between her legs.
Siobhan’s thighs slammed shut. “Uh-huh. We are so not there.”
Belinda gave her a small smile, crawling up to kiss her on the forehead. “You did very well.”
Siobhan blushed. “Uh, yeah. You too.”
Belinda crawled over to position herself on Wilburn’s other side and made herself comfortable.
“Damn,” Siobhan said a moment later. “I always thought I was the wildest one in the room. This takes the cake.”
They had a chuckle and soon, both girls were asleep at his sides.
They’d been right, Wilburn realized, as sleep began creeping up on his consciousness. That had helped. But, not nearly so much as the awareness that now grew within him, bringing a grin to his face.
He now knew exactly where Zuha was.
Chapter Fifteen
The air in Colorado was thinner and dryer, even with the mist hanging over House Vespa’s manicured lawn. Wilburn felt distinctly underdressed in his jeans and t-shirt beside the surrounding company. The Ingrams and both ‘referees’ weren’t attired as formally as they had been at dinner though they were still formal. And Demetrius’s outfit was workout gear that looked like it was straight out of a science fiction magazine, clinging to him and divided by sharp lines. It almost looked as if parts of his clothes were detachable. Wilburn couldn’t begin to imagine all the things that the gear was supposed to do. The sword in Demetrius’s hand seemed pretty obvious though.
It was identical to the one in his own. After being guided down by one of the household staff, the Ingrams had presented a pair of identical swords to both him and their son and allowed Wilburn first choice, claiming they wanted to ensure fair play. This had earned a nod of approval from both Myrtle and Maxwell.
The weight of the sword in his grip was both comforting and alien. On the one hand it felt good being armed. On the other Wilburn had never used a sword in his life. From the way Demetrius casually tested the weight of his own weapon he didn’t have that particular problem.
They were ringed by men in black suits, their jackets bulging slightly with the hint of guns. Just in case one of them decided to cheat. These had been brought by Maxwell and Demeter and their lapels were decorated with little badges to distinguish them. Maxwell’s had some kind of harp that Wilburn assumed was supposed to be a lyre, while Myrtle’s leaping dolphin badges looked very out of place so close to the men’s holstered firearms.
“This is to be a traditional duel,” Maxwell said, breaking the silence that had hung over them all for the last minute and a half while Wilburn and Demetrius readied themselves. Demetrius was posed almost dramatically across from him as Maxwell spoke in what Wilburn thought he intended to be a threatening pose. It certainly made him look like he knew how to use his sword. It also made him look like an idiot.
Glancing around, he couldn’t help but feel that this whole thing was some kind of farce. A duel in the morning? Them standing here with swords? What had happened to algebra and Rhetoric 1301? He’d stepped out of college and into a world of crazy people.
Maxwell’s voice fell like weighted silk over the lawn. “The first to break through the other’s mental defenses and claim the agreed upon prizes is the winner. Both duelist may use any means at their personal disposal to achieve this goal.”
Glancing at the swords, Wilburn supposed that included stabbing each other. Pain was apparently as good a motivator as any. No real surprise there.
“Neither’s House shall seek retribution for defeat and all grievances that led up to this duel are to be resolved here and now,” Maxwell continued. “Are all parties agreed?”
“Agreed,” Demetrius said quickly.
“Sure,” Wilburn said. “Let’s get this over with.”
That made Demetrius pull his lip back in an angry snarl. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”
“Then are both combatants ready?” Maxwell asked.
“Ready,” they both said at the same time.
“Then let none interfere,” Maxwell said. “Upon pain of retribution from House Lyra.”
“And pain of retribution from House Delphinus,” Myrtle added casually, examining her nails as if their fight had no bearing on her whatsoever.
Maxwell walked out to join the circle of onlookers. “Then let the duel commence.”
Black, insectile wings erupted from Demetrius’s back and glossy black chitin spread over his body in a wave, with touches of poisonously bright yellow. The clothing popped free in several areas, accommodating his new bulk and appendages, flapping in the air behind him as he launched himself across the lawn at Wilburn, sword first.
Despite everything he had seen and done since waking up in the hospital, watching a man suddenly turn into a giant bug person and attack him took the cake. The shock of what he was seeing, accompanied by the sheer aggression of Demetrius’s attack made Wilburn hesitate. It almost cost him his life as Demetrius came on in a buzzing thunder.
Wilburn didn’t bring his sword up to block. Using the thing never even crossed his mind and he reacted on pure instinct. Just as Demetrius’s sword point touched his chest, Wilburn exploded.
A firestorm leapt from him in a great tidal wave of heat and light, blinding everyone present as it rushed forward. The sudden presence and force of it created a concussive wave that washed over them all and by the time it was finished, all that remained of the once pristine lawn before Wilburn was charcoal and ash. Several of the suited men hadn’t been quick enough to get out of the way and the one directly across from Wilburn rolled on the ground, screaming in pain, his clothes still on fire.
Demetrius was a good dozen yards outside of the circle that they had been created, shock evident on his face even with the chitin covering it. It was hard to tell how badly he’d been hurt but his clothing had been reduced to singed rags and his chitin didn’t look glossy anymore. He must have raced just ahead of the flames themselves, Wilburn thought, but not enough to escape all of their heat.
Myrtle and the Ingrams were shouting.
Maxwell cut them off. “The match continues! Do not interfere, under pain of retribution from House Lyra.”
“That’s my man burning over there,” Myrtle screamed at him.
Maxwell shrugged. “We underestimated the Houseless. Men, draw back!”
Myrtle followed with similar orders. Wilburn grimaced. There went his element of surprise.
Oh well, Wilburn thought, and surprised himself when his grimace turned into a grin. So
mething savage rose within him, hot and angry and happy to be both of those things.
“Come on,” he cried at Demetrius. “I thought you said you’d end this quickly!”
Demetrius set his jaw and took off. Wilburn couldn’t tell if he was capable of actual flight with those wings but they sure made him fast. He was almost a blur as he circled around the lawn, trying to find another angle to attack from, darting this way and that before finally zeroing in on Wilburn.
Wilburn’s grin widened as joyous rage welled up within him and he let forth another explosion of flames. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Demetrius darting off to the side and then coming at him again, faster even than before. Wilburn smirked and sent another explosion of flame at him, driving him back again.
The yard was a smoldering wreck. One of the fountains had been caught up in Wilburn’s last blast and had actually cracked under the sudden onslaught of heat.
“You can’t keep up attacks like that forever,” Demetrius cried out.
Wilburn scowled. It sure felt like he could. As large as those blasts had been, he felt like he’d barely tapped the well of power within himself. Realization dawned a moment later. He had more power at his disposal than anyone else on the property. The voices that had gifted him with his abilities had filled him with so much that there was no real comparison between him and them in terms of raw power. No, his real disadvantage was skill.
Unfortunately, something in his puzzled expression must have given him away, because Demetrius didn’t press his attack like he thought Wilburn was almost out. He zipped in, feinting, and easily avoiding the explosion of fire Wilburn directed at him.
His opponent had decided on a new strategy. Instead of trying to end things quickly, Demetrius began a series of feints and false strikes, darting around the enclosed estate in a thunderous blur. Wilburn let fly blast after blast of fire, unleashing one every time Demetrius tried to dart in close, whether or not Wilburn believed the attack to be genuine. He had the power to back it up. Each attack, despite its size, barely cost him a thing.
Psychic Awakening: A Dragon Shifter LitRPG Harem Psychic Thriller (Primus Vitae Book 1) Page 10
