“Gryphons are known for guarding treasure and priceless possessions.” Ellie raised her chin at him. “I did a little research, and I think your practice of fraternal polyandry, all the brothers in a family marrying the same wife, is part of that guarding-treasure thing, a way to keep family resources intact and undivided, by having only one heir per generation. If every brother married separately, family resources would have to be split.”
Why wasn’t he surprised that that in the little time she’d had, she’d looked up their beasts, and not them personally?
“And I’d say ‘treasure’ and ‘possessions’ translates as real estate, in this day and age. But you don’t exactly hoard family property, do you?” She frowned. “The building we were in earlier was your private holding, and you turned it into a commercial venture? Oooh.” She stared at them. “And you’re planning to do the same to the old family house.”
They had, and they were, but what, she didn’t know.
“But I suppose that amounts to the same—it’s all accruing ‘treasure’, in the form of profit,” Ellie mused.
“Do you know anything about what we’ve been working on, since we got more of a say in direction?” Jago asked, fighting to keep his voice level.
Ellie cocked her head. “Someone at work mentioned you’re developing the old mews behind your office building in Mayfair? Making it into a yard full of retail spaces? As if there aren’t enough exclusive stores in that area. Well, I suppose you can’t have too many in your portfolio, can one.”
“It’s not—” Ludo swallowed down his annoyance. No point bombarding her with facts and figures and philosophy on her first night. Or ever. They didn’t have to justify or excuse themselves to anyone. If she didn’t understand, didn’t come to see them for who they were, what they were trying to achieve, her loss. Besides, she looked exhausted, her eyes huge in her pale face, her freckles standing out.
“It’s late, and it’s been a long day.” Jago addressed Ellie, picking up on Ludo’s thoughts and concern. “You should get some rest. Why not go up to bed, take another glass of wine up with you, help you relax?”
“Relax?” she echoed, looking somewhat startled.
“Adjust. Whatever.” Ludo shrugged and tipped the last of the bottle into her glass, wondering if the smile he was attempting looked as strained as it felt. Jago’s raised eyebrow said that it did.
Suddenly nervous, Ellie obeyed, snatching her refilled glass with a hand she ordered not to shake and dashed from the room. Damn! She must have turned the wrong way at the top of the staircase—none of these rooms were hers. By the time she’d retraced her steps and found her suite, she was sweating. Relax. Adjust. She’d have to, for what lay ahead, with not one but two shifters. She downed the wine in a gulp and realized her stretchy pants and overwashed sweater weren’t the sexiest attire.
A quick scrabble through her shopping bags and the bags and boxes from her friends produced…wonders. If these don’t get you in the mood, nothing will! Mikki had scrawled on the gift tag. And by you, I mean, all of you. Have fun! Okay, so in the first bag Ellie opened, a new silk nightdress that she put on, was sexy. But the other packages, in shiny black boxes, were certainly things that would…help her adjust. To…length and girth and—
“They’re not dragons, Mikki!” Ellie yelped. But these were. Well, parts of them, anyway. Oh, and a part of a cockatrice. Apt name, considering what the gift boxes held, labelled as fantasy toys. “Sex toys, you mean.” Ellie blinked. “Call a spade a spade and…a massive curved crimson dildo a, well, massive curved crimson dildo.” She gulped. Another, metallic blue and just as huge, was thick and bulging, ridged with veins and had a knot, for Christ’s sake. Another, onyx and equally as enormous, was covered in nubs and was twisted and curved. And what were those dragon’s eggs, all swirly multicolours with flared bases, and ranging in size from biggish to colossal? Oh. They went there, did they?
Ellie picked up what she could only describe as a tentacle, for God’s sake. Well, a section of one. The top, or tip section, to be precise. A fat, thick wave-like curve in pearlescent blue, shot through with dark green, it was covered in varying sizes of raised suction-cup-like dimples and promised to work as a tongue or stimulate the G- and P-spot, depending on where the user employed it. Ellie’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. She couldn’t resist squeezing the toy’s base, to turn it on. Whoa. Powerful vibes. She could easily think of something else it could stimulate.
She switched off the overhead light and crossed to the bed to lie down, the vibe buzzing enticingly in her hand. It wouldn’t hurt. Would calm her down. Relax her, as she’d been practically ordered to do. And by the people who’d got her all revved up, in the first place. She smoothed her silk nightgown up her thighs—
“Ellie! We have to head out!” came shouted up the stairs. Jago.
It was followed by, “Wait here for us until we get back!” Ludo.
This was capped by the slam of the front door. Huh? Don’t go out without them? What was she, their prisoner? Their slave? She heard their voices outside and dashed to the window, intent on having her say. She couldn’t the latch to work but caught more of what they were saying, and it included the word pub. Bloody great. They’d swanned off to the local, and she was stuck there? Supposed to be waiting for her masters to return? Not bloody likely. She raced downstairs, but couldn’t work the lock on the front door. She cut through to the kitchen and the simpler back door, stopped to shove her feet into Wellington boots and to wrap herself in a long winter coat in the tiny scullery, and, of course, by the time she’d made it to the front of the house, the car they’d driven in from London was gone.
Fuming, she stamped around the outside of the house. There was another vehicle, an old Land Rover, and she contemplated searching for the keys and making her way down to the village and its pub to confront her hosts. But she’d been drinking, meaning driving in the dark on unknown roads wouldn’t be the best idea. Still angry, she stormed off away from the Gatehouse and gate, along the long drive, towards where the house must be.
Chapter Five
Why hadn’t they invited her out with them? Her bluntness had driven yet more men away, she supposed. The way you like it, came her inner voice. So it’s not messy with emotions like lust and love and longing and leaving, like her mother’s life had been, in the absence of her father. Seemed the Calters’ father had loved their mother. They were lucky. But he’d lost her, so it was just as filled with heartbreak and sadness as her parents’ relationship, only in a different way.
She’d reached a place where the trees pressed together over her head, blocking out the moonlight—shouldn’t the drive be better maintained? And shouldn’t she have been able to see a big house of some sort by now? She’d been trudging along for a while; maybe she’d veered off the drive and was circling it? What was that? Ellie whipped around at a noise. Probably nothing. When something came on her other side, she tried to play that down, too. What she couldn’t ignore were the footsteps, drumming on the ground behind her, and the sound of heavy breathing.
“Is someone there?” she yelled, her voice cracking a little. She scrabbled in her coat pockets, for what, she didn’t know, but found a slim metal flashlight. She twisted the base to turn it on and swung it around. Nothing, except the hedge waving in the wind. But there wasn’t any, so something must have pushed back the hedge or branches, made them move. A soft hiss reached her ears, joined by another from a few feet away, and they both got louder, turned into murmuring whispers.
And then, she must have imagined it, because it sounded like it had all turned into a voice, a reedy voice moaning, “Eleanor…”
Ellie took a few steps backwards, still facing the way her flashlight pointed, then swung around and ran. Steps thudded after her, getting nearer. As she gathered herself to run faster, a sharp, sudden shove came in the small of her back, almost pushing her to the ground. With a cry, she saved herself from falling and hurtled forwards again.
Within a moment, she’d come up against a tree. No—a hedge, making her turn to be able to continue. A second later, she smacked into another soft green barrier. Another hedgerow? Was she in some ornamental garden? She shook the flashlight to get a bigger beam and played it around her. Tall privet walls all around—she was in a maze! A bloody maze! Who has a fucking maze in their fucking garden? she wanted to scream.
And when the hissing noises started again—one on either side of her, but how near she couldn’t tell because she was literally box-hedged in—she did scream. Long and loud, her cries interspersed with yells, telling whoever was chasing her to fuck off or come and face her, if they dared. She pushed herself on, forcing her way through hedges, breaking them, scratching her hands, and suddenly came to a cleared space. The centre! She’d reached the middle! It bore a white plinth, and she gulped, because on either side of it was a stone gryphon, the two making a twin pair.
Ellie was past caring about symbols or meaning. She ran to the pedestal and climbed it, trying to see a way out. She couldn’t. “Help!” she finally screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help!” She carried on yelling and shouting even when two winged beasts flew across the night sky, their huge dark shadows blocking the feeble moonlight. Her shrieks grew quieter when the beasts circled her, swooping lower with each pass, their wings making long, slow slaps in the air, until the animals landed, silently, one on either side of the white dais she stood on. They folded their magnificent wings into their bodies and thumped towards her.
Oh, they were magnificent. Long and lean, each muscle bunching and flexing as they padded on strong, powerful limbs. She understood now the appositeness of the collective noun for their species: a grace of gryphons. But, shaken as she was, Ellie was in no state to appreciate their majesty and grandeur. Jago—she didn’t know how she knew which was which, but she did—nudged her towards Ludo, who lowered his front body to the ground for her to slide from the plinth and onto his back. She did, and he rose to his full height and set off at a run, only needing a few paces before he took to the air.
Oh, holy Christ. She was flying through the night sky on the back of a mythical winged creature, while its twin flew in front, as lookout, and dropped back, as guard. Never in a million years could she have imagined that, and she couldn’t even begin to describe what it felt like. She gripped the silky mane under her hands and tried to stop shaking. Within a minute, they were back at the Gatehouse, and Ludo lowered his head and shoulders for her to slide off.
She wanted to speak, to ask questions, to touch them, to feel them, but one look at their eyes and she bolted indoors and upstairs, the image of Jago’s glowing golden irises and the pure silver beam of Ludo’s propelling her. Why was she still shaking? Oh right, she was chilled to the bone. Getting lost in a maze and then skimming through the night sky in a silk nightgown would do that. She stripped off and took a shower, the water as hot as she could stand it, and made sure to bathe her scratched hands and face. When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a huge, fluffy towel, having wound a smaller one around her hair to keep it dry in the shower, Jago and Ludo were waiting in her bedroom.
“Here. Hot drink. Herbal tea.” Jago held it out.
Ellie took it, a little wary. Both men were in jeans and shirts, now, and were barefoot. They’d re-dressed after shifting back. Jago’s usually full lips were pinched into a thin line and Ludo’s nostrils were flared. They must be weary, transforming into beast form and then human again so quickly.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie hung her head. “I didn’t mean to make you do that. But if it’s any consolation, you’re breath-takingly stunning in beast form. Please don’t be angry with me. I didn’t realize what would happen if I disobeyed you and left the house.”
“This is no time for recriminations,” Ludo began, and then his brow creased. “Did you call us stunning?”
“Breath-takingly stunning,” his brother corrected, a smug grin hitching up one side of his mouth.
“Well, you are. I’m so sorry I didn’t have the chance to see you both properly, to really appreciate you. I wasn’t just saying it so you’d forget you were angry with me.” Ellie put down her now-empty cup.
“Ellie, we were angry with ourselves, that you were alone and frightened and hurt,” Ludo corrected.
“Oh, I’m not…now,” Ellie said, conscious of herself, wrapped in a towel, alone in her room with the two of them.
“Let me see.”
She stared at Ludo, and he took her hand and turned it over to see the palm, still reddened from the hedges. He brought it to his mouth and licked it, slowly and deliberately.
“Oh! Does your saliva have healing properties?” Fascinated, Ellie stared at her hand, only to look up at the twin snickers.
“Not as far as I know.” Oh, that cocky grin on Ludo’s face. “I just wanted to taste you, deorling.”
Initially amused at Ludo’s playful nature, his words made her flash back to earlier, to being at the mercy of the pitch-dark gardens, to the sounds and the—
“What? What, Ellie?” Jago was in front of her, his hands on her forearms.
“I heard something, out there. I got lost, and heard noises. And saw something. Well, I thought—” The greenery swaying and rustling wasn’t much of a horror story. She leaned into the warmth of Ludo’s body holding her and pressed into Jago’s heat and solidity at her back. “I fell. Oh, that’s nice,” she said when Ludo tightened his arms around her and Jago unwound the towel from her hair to rub her head with it, massaging small circles. “Very nice.” She sagged between them, her knees not doing their job.
“Let’s get you to bed. You’re exhausted,” Ludo said, his voice low and soft, seeming to rumble through her.
“You’re almost asleep.” Jago’s words purred through her.
“But…” She couldn’t think how to continue.
“And you’re dealing with ebbing adrenaline, on top of all you’ve been through.” Ludo plucked at the top cover of the bed, only to raise his eyebrows at what he dislodged. “What’s—oh. Really?” He switched it on, and the coloured toy vibrated.
Jago trapped Ellie’s horrified face in his hands, a smirk on his gorgeous face. “You do like making men feel inadequate, love. Good job we’re not mere men and can match up to anything you have in mind. Or wherever else you’d…like it.” He slid a gentle hand into the tuck of her towel and pulled, unwrapping her, leaving her nude. “Beautiful.”
“Jago.” Ludo’s voice came as a reproach. “Ellie’s bone-tired and not in a state to—”
“Be pampered? Cosseted? Massaged?” His voice stroked her skin. “That bag there.” He lifted his chin for his brother to take out the contents of one of the gift bags. “Would you like that? Like us to get to know you, understand your body, learn what brings you pleasure?”
Her breath catching in her throat, her breasts heavy and her nipples crinkling into tight points, Ellie could only nod. Jago indicated the bed, and Ellie lay down, turning onto her front at his signal. He came to kneel between her spread legs.
“Wait.” Wide-eyed, Ellie watched Jago approach, a plastic bottle of oil in his hands. She’d never behaved like this before in her life. “Are you…are you doing this to me with your voice?”
“You mean do gryphons have the power of hypnosis over beautiful women?” Jago’s chuckle was rich and sexy. “I wish.”
“Yeah.” Ludo sighed. “Adolescence would’ve been a hell of a lot easier.”
Ellie was just about to ask how old they actually were, knowing shifters aged differently, when she heard the click of a bottle cap, then smelled the aroma of sweet apricots a second before large, warm hands descended to her back. Then she couldn’t think at all, and even thoughts of how vulnerable she was, naked, face-down on a bed with two powerful men at her back, fled.
She could only feel, only moan at their touch, at the four hands smoothing over her shoulders and along her arms, down her back and ass to her legs. It was incredibly arousing, and the tops of her th
ighs were getting wetter by the minute. Adrenaline, they’d mentioned? She was floating on endorphins, high and dreamy. Yes, a dream, she decided. A haze in which she could turn slightly to one side, widen the gap between her legs and bend one up at the knee, letting her yearning body tell her men what she sought. The hands on her body stilled.
“Ellie?”
For once, she couldn’t tell who’d spoken.
“Show us?”
Again, she didn’t know who’d spoken, who’d issued the command, but she understood. When strong, broad fingers eased the toy into place under the seam of her body and turned it on, she knew perfectly well what they wanted. What she wanted. Needed. To come. To let the device stimulate her, stroke up and down her pussy and rub up and down her clit and have her writhing into a quick, easy climax.
“God, Ellie.”
The toy was removed, and a low chuckle sounded at her back. Jago, she thought.
“My turn.” And it was Jago, easing his hand to her one exposed breast, to cup its fullness and drag a thumb over the hardening nipple, but it was Ludo at her right side, holding eye contact with her, making her stare into the silver depths and an elongating pupil. And she looked into his eyes even when Jago slipped his hand lower, down the length of her back, over the cheeks of her ass into the warmth of her pussy. “She’s so wet,” he murmured. “So perfect.”
He feels perfect, she thought, her sheath contracting and rippling around the thick fingers forging a path inside her.
“She’s just sucking me in,” Jago continued. “Ludo—”
Ellie felt cold loss for the merest second when Jago eased his hand free, but it took only a heartbeat for Ludo to switch places with him and penetrate her in his turn. His groan was long and low.
“Make her come,” Jago husked. “I want to see you bring her to climax.” He leaned over to watch his brother pleasure her.
Paranormal Dating Agency: Think of England (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Roar Britannia Book 1) Page 4
