by Tate James
Probably sensing the shift in my mood, George slid his hands underneath my fresh shirt and slowly started tugging it up my skin, not once losing contact with my lips. The sheer patience he showed in removing my shirt so damn slowly was almost painful, but it did allow me a minute to second-guess things.
“Wait,” I gasped, breaking away from his kiss and flicking my wild eyes between the two elementals, “aren't we waiting for Shane and Reg? I'm serious about only doing this once. Just to complete the marking and then we're done.”
“I just thought maybe this would be a bit less intimidating if we started before they got here? You weren't fooling anyone that you've participated in group sex before, Blossom.”
He was right, of course he was right, but this seemed all really daunting. Nervously, I chewed my lower lip and stood mesmerized as Billy deliberately unbuckled his belt, then slid it from his pants and set it on the bedside table.
“Well, Firebug?” he challenged. “What's it going to be?”
Complete the ritual by getting laid by four hot but admittedly annoying liars? Or get killed by naked, winged incubi and succubi bitches with guns?
It was kind of an easy choice.
What the hell.
“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, trying not to love the feel of George's fingers on my bare skin. His fingertips were soft, but firm, like he knew his own strength and was being careful to regulate it. “Whatever. Let's just get this over with as soon as possible.”
“Why don't we focus on making it enjoyable instead?” George asked, lifting a hand up to put a finger against the side of my face. Without using any pressure whatsoever, just the gentle burden of his touch, he turned me back to look at him.
“No matter what you do, I won't enjoy it,” I said, but I was already getting off on the hard press of his body against my own. My last boyfriend hadn't exactly been … how should I put it … in shape. Now, I wasn't trying to be judge-y or anything, but having a guy with a rippling eight pack and arms strong enough to pick me up and fuck me against the wall—priceless.
“That's an awful way to go into it,” he said, giving me a look and a quick flash of smile, teeth white in his bronze face. “Humans just fuck with their bodies; elementals bring a little magic into the mix.”
I pursed my lips, but I didn't say anything. Sure, the sex I'd had thus far had been … fine. Okay, it was fucking awesome. But it wasn't any different (except for maybe the whole DP situation, but that was just my lack of experience talking). If there was magic in all of that, I hadn't felt it.
“You have to be marked first,” George told me, like he could read the thoughts straight from my brain.
Wait …
“You don't happen to have mind-reading powers do you?” I asked and he just laughed, pulling me in close for another kiss. His mouth was so gentle when it slanted over mine, it was like my lips opened on reflex. Nice guy, they said as I kissed a man that smelled like flowers but was far from feminine (not that there's anything wrong with that since, you know, feminine and masculine are largely societal constructs). Nice guy, they repeated after I was done with my inner socio-political rant, very rare.
Lifting my hands up, I curled my fingers around George's broad shoulders and wondered what'd be like to see him in his element, so to speak, on his knees in the dirt, his skin shimmering with sweat under the hot, hot sun. I could just imagine his hands cloaked in thick gloves, his arm swiping across his forehead as he plowed my flower bed.
Whoa.
Okay, this was happening.
George's tongue expertly teased against mine, neither subjugating nor acquiescing, but simply tasting me. A groan escaped unbidden, but I was so into the kiss that I forgot to be embarrassed. Half of my brain screamed that I met these guys, like, yesterday, but the rest of me (mainly the throbbing warmth between my thighs) did not care one bit.
As we kissed, George eased my shirt up until it was breaking the vibrant heat between our mouths, chucking it aside and then pulling me close, the taut points of my nipples scraping against his chest.
“This can be weird,” he began, which was not a good way to start a sexual romp with four random supernatural dudes, “or it can be sensual.”
“George,” I began, but he was already backing me up so that my thighs touched the edge of the bed, pushing me down gently with a single palm between my breasts. I sat down on the end of the guest bed, a puff of dust rising off the rose pink comforter. Damn. It'd been a long time since Gram had had any company.
I tossed a quick glance over my shoulder and found Billy sliding his hand down the firm expanse of his tummy, right underneath those faded jeans … Shit. Okay, I held up the white flag to my ovaries and decided that, hey, even if these elemental weirdos wanted to make babies with me to save their dying species, that I was pretty a-okay with that.
Just look at them.
“Take your pants off for me, Ari,” George said, the intensity of his gaze making me squirm. Knowing Billy was polishing his wrench behind me did not make this any easier.
“All the way off?” I asked, and he quirked a brow.
“Normally, I'd say no, let's do it with them half-on, half-off, but …” George's soft smile turned wicked at the edges. “But for the marking, we need you completely nude. Want some help?”
I just sat there and gaped at him like a goldfish, watching as he knelt down between my thighs, curling his fingers around the waistband of my fox covered pj pants. Slowly, like he wanted to torture me, he dragged the fabric down my thighs, taking my rainbow panties along for the ride. Tossing them aside, George glanced up at me.
“Ready?”
“If you have to ask that, then probably not,” I said, sucking in a sharp breath.
George held out his hands and as I watched in awe, they went completely see-through, just like I did when I was elementing all the way out. He didn't go full dragon like I'd seen in the bathroom, just see-through, ethereal.
The dual scents of wet earth and growing things filled the room, like a flower garden after a spring rain.
“Sit still,” George commanded, and even though I wasn't much for taking commands, he was so damn nice about it, I decided to listen and see what was going to happen.
His hands found my upper arms, his effervescent palms pressing against my flesh. As he dragged them down and over my wrists, along my thighs, I felt this … breathtaking sensation pass over me. It was something I'd never experienced before, like pure energy made flesh, traveling through his palms and into me, lighting me up like the night sky in a summer thunderstorm.
And in his wake, a small dark line of earth was left, clinging to my skin like I'd just applied a mud mask to my arms. Even as I watched, tiny little green things rose from the dirt, grew buds, blossomed into beautiful flowers.
“That feels … really weird,” I whispered, my voice coming out in a gasping breath. I tried to liken the feeling to something I'd experienced before, but my mind came up completely blank. The closest sensation I could relate to it was that one time Britt and I went to Vail, Colorado for a skiing trip and got really high on pot chocolates.
I felt like I was floating, but grounded, too. Like I could soar if I wanted and yet come straight back home with a single thought. Yeah, like that doesn't sound like a high person's thoughts.
Maybe someone had spiked my wine?
“George,” I managed to gasp out as he stood up and pushed me forward with a hand on the chest again, straight into Billy's arms. His hands, when they came around to cup my breasts, were also see-through, completely covered in flames. It didn't hurt when he touched me though. No, quite the opposite—scalding warmth washed over me, like I was slipping into a hot tub.
“Got started without us, I see,” Reg said, his voice just barely registering in my brain. I was too far-gone at that point to think clearly.
“Hurry,” Billy said, his breath warm against my ear. As he held me in his arms, I saw flames transfer from his skin onto mine, dancing along m
y breasts and down, down, down. There were flames everywhere—if you know what I mean.
Reg and Shane appeared in my field of vision, taking their clothes off like they had business to attend to—i.e. me. I was their business.
“You found what we needed?” George asked as Shane produced a fucking knife from the bag.
“What the hell is that for?!” I asked, trying to move away and finding myself wrapped in Billy's arms.
“It's an athame, sugar, relax,” Shane drawled, freeing his half-erect cock from his jeans and kicking them aside. “It's a ritualistic representation of the phallus.”
Holy fuck.
I'd never heard someone say phallus and sound sexy before.
“And this,” Reg said, withdrawing a metal goblet. “What do you think this is?”
“It's a goddamn cup,” I said, gasping as Billy ran his thumbs over my nipples. At this point, they were hard as fucking diamonds. Add a little water and I could cut granite.
“This is a ritualistic representation of the feminine aspect in nature.”
Reg handed the cup to George
“And you're gonna fill it,” Reg said with an evil smirk.
“Fill it? With what?!” I asked, but then Shane was taking up a position on my left, Reg on my right.
I was surrounded by four hot naked men.
Correction—four hot naked plumbers.
Shane reached out and dragged a single fingertip across my lips, causing the air in the room to shift, teasing my hair around my face. As he moved his finger, little swirls of white clouds clung to my skin like snow. He traced a long, tingling line all the way down the side of my jaw, along my throat, straight to my belly button.
At the same time, Reg was taking a much dirtier route, reaching out and pulling my right knee wide. He teased his fingers along my inner thigh and straight toward the promise land.
I didn't do a thing to stop him.
Meanwhile, George was setting up some sort of … altar with the athame and the goblet near my feet.
I guess Reg had warned me—chanting and runes and shit. Well, that's exactly what I was getting. As soon as George was done with his setup, he rejoined the others, taking up his place between my thighs and tracing several runes on my stomach with his finger.
He spoke a single word and then the others repeated it. I couldn't quite understand what they were saying, but I guess I didn't need to—George took that moment to find my opening with the thick, hard length of his cock, thrusting into me and grabbing hold of my hips with his gentle but firm grip.
I arched my back and lifted my pelvis into him, my head laying back onto Billy's shoulder.
The chanting around me could've come across as one of two ways—creepy or hilarious.
I mean, really? A bunch of elemental plumbers chanting in a foreign language while they gangbanged me? Stupid, right?
But no.
Whatever was happening right now felt right. It had this primal, earthy quality to it that made my blood sing and my heart pound. Outside the windows, the storm raged, thrashing the sides of the house with sheets of water. Lightning crashed into the tree outside my grandmother's window repeatedly, and yet … it never burned.
The mens' voices rose in a wild, primal chant, mixing with the howl of the wind and the cracking of the wooden shutters against the windows.
As he fucked me, nice and slow and deep, I could feel the others tracing more runes onto my body, their fingers leaving glowing marks on my skin that shimmered like sunshine on water, brilliant and liquid and organic.
George moved inside of me to the sound of the storm and the breathless chanting, hitting me so deep, I swear I could feel him in my womb.
Guess that's what it felt like to fuck an earth spirit.
As he pleasured me between my thighs, Billy took over my breasts, massaging them with his hands, teasing the nipples with his thumbs. His lips eased down the sides my throat, burning a hot trail of pleasure with his mouth.
Shane took it upon himself to kiss me, putting one of his big hands on my belly as he leaned over and slipped his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and his kiss was as thick and drawling as his accent. I wanted more of it. More of him, George, Billy …
And Reg.
On my left, the water elemental took up kissing the side of my neck that wasn't being scorched by Billy's hot mouth. He traced the pulsing throb of my pulse, running the tip of his tongue along the veins and arteries that gave me life.
His right hand snuck down between my thighs and even though it should've been weird, having him touch my clit while George fucked me, it wasn't. It just felt … right. Like the rest of this strange, ferine ritual we were involved in.
Those tattooed fingers of his were putting just the right amount of pressure on me, enhancing the slick slide of George's cock. All I had to do was relax into it, arch my breasts into Billy's touch, tangle my tongue with Shane's.
It was the most exquisite form of pampering I'd ever endured.
George was right. I didn't have to suffer through it; I just had to let myself fall.
The boys continued drawing on my skin, bringing the strange runes to life on every inch of my body except for my feet, face, and hands. I was glimmering like the ocean on a warm day, gold-yellow symbols flickering like fireflies.
A sharp, low sound slipped from George's lips as he came, spilling himself inside of me and filling the air with the sweet scent of pine. Dripping sweat, he immediately moved to the side and traded places with Shane.
“What are …” I whispered, but I felt like I might burn up from the inside out if I didn't get any release. Besides, it wasn't exactly like I hated what was happening to me at the moment. Fuck, I could do this all day everyday and never get bored.
In fact, getting marked by elementals may very well have been my newest pastime.
Shane slid his warm hands up the inside of my thighs, chanting the same strange words as George. My hair swirled around my face in a warm breeze, a gentle gust sliding off the surface of the Caribbean. I could smell that fresh, electric scent of a storm brewing, like the very molecules in the air were charged and ready to strike.
Shane's blue eyes met mine with an almost physical sense of force, like he was touching me through that sharp gaze of his. The edge of his mouth quirked up briefly in a smile, but then he was grabbing my hips and there was nothing cute or kind about his facial expression. No, the Southern manners were wiped aside for that universally annoying male smugness.
Unlike George, he took his time sliding into me, just like he had in the bathroom, slipping his inked cock in inch by careful inch until he was fully sheathed inside the hot slickness of my pussy.
“Fucking shit,” was all I managed to get out. I wasn't about being coy or flirty at that point. No, I was acting on pure instinct. Thoughts and logicality just didn't seem to be present here. Hell, I didn't need them.
Wrapping my legs around Shane's hard, hot body, I drew him closer, the colorful wash of tattoos on his chest blurred in the semi-darkness of the room. With only candles and lightning to illuminate us, the stormy evening was quickly bathing the house in blackness.
Reg maintained a slow, even pace on my clit, increasing the pressure of his lips on my neck to the point where I knew I was going to be left with hickeys galore. On the other side, Billy did the same, like he was trying to match Reg's intensity.
All of that sensation—Shane's thick, hard shaft and the slow, easy kisses George was laying across my sweaty stomach—brought me to climax with a sudden burst of pleasure, filling my body from head to toe and dragging a scream from my throat.
For a few seconds there, it was almost painful, almost felt too good. But I couldn't stop it. Whatever this was that was happening—this weird, supernatural plumber thing—I had to see it to the end.
Based on the event thus far, I had a pretty good idea of what that might entail.
Two guys down … two to go.
The chanting conti
nued around me, a slow sensual song adding a soundtrack to our lovemaking. And I swear to god, even though he was chanting in a foreign language, I could still hear Shane's Southern drawl.
He drove into me with purpose, hard and fast, fucking me with a fury that matched the storm outside the walls of Gram's house.
Heh.
Bet she'd never banked on something like this happening in the dusty rose and cream guest bedroom?
Probably not or else she would've invested in a better bed … With each thrust of Shane's powerful hips, I could hear the springs inside the mattress creaking with that primal rhythm. It could've been funny in a different situation, but honestly, it was just sexy as fuck.
Shane's orgasm took me by surprise, bursting from him with a gust of wind that knocked my grandmother's perfume bottles to the floor. The sharp, frosty scent that filled the air—just like a good, crisp Northeastern autumn—mixed all of those floral scents and made me feel like I was in the middle of a rose garden.
“Stay strong,” Billy whispered in my ear, and then he moved over for George to take his place, rotating the circle of men around me like they were simply planets and I, I was the fucking sun.
Sliding off the bed and taking his place in front of me, I saw that Billy … Billy, shit. What was his last name? I was having an orgy with four dudes whose last names I didn't know?! Christ on a cracker…
Anyhow, Billy What's-His-Name, had pierced junk.
Like, all over pierced junk.
Oh, and the man was hung like a goddamn horse.
“Fuck me,” I whispered as the lushness of his mouth twisted into the signature smirk of a bad boy who knows he's got the goods women want. Screw him for that.
“Planned on it,” he said, stepping between my thighs. By this point, I was drenched in sweat and saliva and … other things. I could feel that liquid heat between my legs, but I didn't care. My body knew that we weren't finished here.
I caught a brief glimpse of silver in the firelight, Billy's piercings winking back at me from the long, curved length of his shaft. He was as big as Shane, thick and hard and ready for me.
