by Fox, Piper
About ten minutes passed of him fucking me through orgasm after orgasm, turning me into a pile of orgasmic jelly, when Shane came home. I was just peaking through another climax, grunting and shaking before falling against the Sybian again. My clit had accepted its fate, sending me into a micro-orgasm a few seconds later.
“Mmmm,” Shane purred from the doorway. Being handcuffed, I couldn’t move to see him, plus I was completely boneless. “Always a treat when I come home to Kate having an orgasm.”
Elliot squeezed my ass and gave a few rough thrusts before he groaned out an orgasm, shooting inside me, holding me in place until he was finished. He withdrew, leaving me feeling very empty, and turned off the Sybian, finally giving my clit a break.
I knew Shane was naked and kneeling behind me when I felt something cold press into my ass, one of the vibrating plugs Shane liked to use on me. He worked it slowly inside until it was all the way in, and he turned the vibration on the lowest setting. Shane waited, watching me from behind. He wanted to watch me enjoy it, to watch me squirm. The plug’s vibration felt so good, and when he turned it up to high, my hips started moving forward, looking for any stimulation against my clit, but Shane took my hair in his hands and made sure I couldn’t move.
“Cum for me,” he whispered in my ear.
The air caught in my lungs, and I came hard, babbling incoherently as I saw stars. He thrust his cock inside my pussy and fucked me, taking me as roughly as Elliot had. With the Sybian off, it was harder to climax, but Shane enjoyed watching me tense as I strained towards it.
At some point, Elliot removed my handcuffs, and redid them with my arms behind my back. Shane pressed me against the Sybian, his hand on my neck, pinning me underneath him. I wiggled, needing something on my clit to help me orgasm, but Shane denied me. If I wanted to cum, it would be when he allowed it.
My body strained, feeling no closer or further from completion, but craving it all the same. “Pl…” I squealed and bit into the Sybian. “Please.”
My lovers enjoyed torturing me, but they also enjoyed letting me have exactly what I wanted.
Shane turned the Sybian on full blast without warning, sending me careening into a string of orgasms so close together, it was never ending. He didn’t break his pace, fucking me, slamming me into the Sybian, rearranging my insides while I squirted and came all over him.
As soon as I stopped climaxing, Shane shot his load inside me, and finally came to a stop with our hips pressed together.
“Jesus,” he exclaimed as he caught his breath, actually sounding winded, if that was even possible. “I don’t even have the strength to move.”
Elliot had recovered enough, so he set me free, and we all crawled to the bed where we lay naked in a pile, sated and tired enough to fall back asleep. He held me from behind, and gave a weak tug on my hips to pull me against him.
“Mine,” he growled sleepily.
Shane gripped my hip as well, coming closer until I was sandwiched between them. “Ours.”
And we all fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The End
* * *
Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! You can also check out more Lycan stories by me in Knight of the Hunted, NSFW Born Vampire, Book One, and Neck-Romancer, Neck-Romancer Book One!
About the Author
Elizabeth Dunlap is an award winning author whose works include the Born Vampire series, and the Neck-Romancer series.
She's never wanted to be anything else in her life, except maybe a vampire. When she's not writing, she's designing at Pixie Covers, or playing a ridiculous amount of video games.
She lives in Texas with her boyfriend, their daughter, a very sleepy chihuahua named Deyna, and an energetic cat named Ella.
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Read More of Elizabeth’s Books
The Born Vampire Series, a reverse harem paranormal romance
The Neck-Romancer Series, a reverse harem paranormal romance
The Ecrivain Academy Series
The Grumpy Fairy Series
Charmed
Stacey Jaine McIntosh
About Charmed
As the daughter of Robin Goodfellow, Ever was well known for her mischievous streak. So, when her mother steps down as the Winter Queen, Ever is more than happy to take up the mantle as the new Winter Queen. But disaster strikes, when a wolf shifter pup is killed calling into question her ability to rule.
When rumours of her abdication swirl, Ever is made to pay for her role in the wolf shifter pup’s death and when she almost doesn’t survive, she vows to bring the child back to life by any means necessary.
Charmed
Snow danced and pirouetted in the mid morning gloom; a choreographed ballet conducted by the wind that only existed as long as the Winter Queen willed it.
A spectacular yet stark landscape, the Winter Territories were blinding. Treetops, light posts and rooftops loomed picturesque in their Victorian architectural nature, only to vanish, swallowed by the ice-white dust.
A wolf the colour of rust made a stark contrast against all the white. Another the colour of steel paced slowly before the gates of the Winter Palace before opening its jaws and letting out a mournful howl. The other wolf soon joined in. Together they created something almost beautiful yet poignantly bereft.
Despite the cold conditions outside, inside the Winter Palace was the epitome of warmth.
Minstrels played their instruments. Violins and flutes. While a thin waif like faerie sung an all too pretty tune in a language the Queen didn’t care to know.
As Ever lounged on the oversized milky alabaster four poster bed in her suite of rooms, she ruminated on how this would be her last Solstice Ball as Queen of the Winter Court. Or it would be if the fey council got their way and forced her to abdicate and give up her throne. But Ever knew just as the council did that the Winter Court was light on female heirs to inherit the throne after her, which meant they’d likely have to get creative or instil a King instead.
“Do those blasted wolves ever shut up?” I asked.
Leo, my twin brother, shrugged. “You might as well try to enjoy the festivities while you can, sis!”
“You mean before I get tossed out on my arse?” I chided, playfully. Technically, I wouldn’t be tossed anywhere. I’d just be made to step down as Queen while somebody else took the helm. I was still and would always be a Princess of the Winter Court. I of course didn’t know how I felt about being usurped. If it hadn’t been for those two fools, I’d never have been put in a position wherein I had to even consider abdicating.
“Princess?” Rathan asked.
“I haven’t been disposed yet, Rath. I’m still your Queen.”
“Apologies, your majesty.” He bowed low at the waist. “I meant no disrespect.”
I grinned. “I know. Leo,” I paused and tore my eyes away from the devastatingly handsome fey before me and swept my cerulean blue eyes towards my brother. “I’ll catch up with you later, ‘Kay?”
“Later? Yeah, sure,” Leo muttered.
I watched him go before turning back to Rath.
“And what may I ask, are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, why else do you think I would be here?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “It’s been a crazy few days. For all I know, you could be here to kill me.”
“Kill you?” He asked, his index finger trailing the contours of her bottom lip. “Never.”
“You’re too good to me,” I murmured as he came to join me on my bed.
“I know,” Rath whispered, pressing his mouth against mine. His tongue s
lipping expertly between my teeth to twine with mine. I moaned, which only made Rath deepen the kiss.
“I think I’m going to miss you most of all,” I said once the kiss was over.
“Who says I’m leaving?” Rath asked.
“You might not be, but I almost certainly am.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?”
“Fine,” I murmur, pulling out of his embrace. “You should go. I need to prepare for tonight’s festivities.”
“Alright, if I must,” Rath said dramatically rising from the bed.
I watched him as he stalked from my suite and sighed. There was no avoiding tonight. No matter how much I wanted to.
“I’ve drawn you a bath, Your Majesty,” my maid servant said.
I nodded, and she departed the room, leaving me alone to undress and bathe.
The water, although warm, left me with chills so I didn’t linger long before dressing in the gown my maid servant had left out for me. It was midnight blue. Rhinestones covered the bodice and the chiffon skirt all but reached the floor. My shoes were diamond encrusted silver slippers.
I had maids to dress my hair and help me with my jewellery. I had to admit the entire process made me feel as if I was preparing for my own funeral.
And in a way, I guess I was. For by the end of tonight I’d no longer be Queen.
“Your Majesty,” a Palace manservant said, interrupting my introspective thoughts. “It’s time.”
I nodded and stood.
As I walked the halls from the Queen’s rooms to the ballroom, I couldn’t help but be a little nostalgic. I’d walked this very path numerous times as a child when my mother was Queen but this would no doubt be the final time I walked it. There would be no reason to walk it ever again if I was dethroned.
“The council is still deliberating as to your fate, my Lady.”
“Wonderful,” I murmured, barely above a whisper. My voice so soft I doubted he even heard me.
As I stepped into the grand ballroom of the Winter Court, it felt as if all eyes were on me and perhaps that was given the rumours that were swirling around about me, and the fate of the Winter Court.
I knew, as did everyone here, there was no female heir to pick up the mantle in my stead. When I stepped down as Queen, the Winter Court would be set adrift, cast out into unknown waters.
If I could have run there and then, I would have.
Instead, I did as my mother instructed, kept my head held high and focused on a spot in the distance.
The courtiers didn’t need to know that I wasn’t looking directly at them, merely pretending to.
I paused mid-step as I was announced to the throng of people already assembled in the ballroom, and then I took my seat.
It wasn’t long after that Leo appeared at my table.
“How you doing sis?” he asked.
“How do you think?” I snapped and almost instantly regretted it. Anxiety made me grouchy, but that didn’t make it okay to take it out on my brother. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” he said without missing so much as a single beat.
I smiled. I couldn’t really thank him. That was against the rules of Faerie lore.
“Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty,” Teague’s voice was loud enough for me to hear, but not so that the entire room could overhear.
“I’ll catch you later,” Leo said, backing away from my table, before turning and heading in the direction of his wife.
With my attention solely focused on Teague, I asked. “What is it?”
“The council has decided your fate.”
I swallowed. “M-my f-fate?” I asked, unable to stop the quiver in my voice.
“Yes.” He smiled a grim sort of smile.
“Well, don’t just stand there grinning like a fool,” I said. “Spit it out.”
“The council’s verdict was unanimous, my Lady,” he said. “You’re to undergo the trials.”
The fey trials. I’d heard talk of them over the years. About how the former Summer Queen almost hadn’t survived them.
My entire body shook and when I tried to speak, I couldn’t form the words.
“I—” The world went all topsy-turvy, and then it stopped and I fell into darkness.
When I woke up, I was lying on a lounge in the sitting room adjoining the ballroom.
“You fainted,” Leo offered.
I sat up and searched the room but didn’t see Teague.
“I said I’ll call for him when you’d recovered,” Mom replied.
“Then you should probably see to that now,” I said, feeling stronger that I knew I ought. “Why delay the inevitable?”
“Ever!” Dad chided.
My green eyes met his for a moment before I looked away. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and survive.”
The joke fell flat, even to my ears.
It was then I thought I saw tears in Mom’s eyes.
“I’ll be okay.” But even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them.
* * *
On either side of the path which lead to the Drowning Pool, wolf shifters stood. Standing guard. Bearing witness to my shame. I’d been stripped of my gown and made to walk the path in my undergarments. I wasn’t cold — a perk of being born into the Winter Court — but goosebumps still flecked my arms, anyway.
As I waited, anxiety blossomed.
Finally, Vivienne spoke the words I’d been dreading to hear. “Ever Isobel, Queen of the Winter Court, you stand accused of a horrible crime of which you have been found guilty and therefore you are to be tested thrice. Should you survive then you may go free, but only after you have been stripped of your crown and your role as the Winter Queen. The council deliberated over your fate for quite some time, I’m told, before coming to a decision.”
I nodded. I knew that much. For Teague had kept me squarely in the loop on all matters pertaining to my punishment.
And then Vivienne called Teague forward. He was the only fey with enough skill with a whip. “Teague?”
He stepped forward, whip in hand, the sight of which made me tremble slightly.
I stood with my wrists bound. Tethered to a wooden post, in nothing more than my undergarments before the council. It seemed they wanted to humiliate me before they did their best to kill me.
A small flicker of rebellion within said I should let them at it. But my mother’s words still rang in my ears, and so I bowed my head in submission. Just in time for the cat of nine tails to be brought down, cutting into my bare skin. I sucked in a breath. It hurt. I stood straighter. I knew more was coming.
I kept count in my head. As one blow after another landed against my back. I didn’t make so much as a whimper.
By the time the whip was put down, I’d endured eighteen lashings. The welts on my back screamed.
Still tied to the wooden post, I watched as a cast iron branding iron was brought to the fire. It was heated until the tip of it glowed red hot. I knew what came next. It was to be placed on my skin. I was to be marked. Branded like cattle. I was to be claimed by the Winter Court. Even though they thought me unfit to rule, they’d still willingly put their mark on me.
The bastards.
I screamed when the branding iron touched my skin. I couldn’t help it. It hurt. Hurt so bad I wanted to tear at my own skin. And then as suddenly as it came, the pain went away and the branding iron was relinquished.
I would have breathed a sigh of relief if it weren’t for what was to come next.
The third and final trial. By water.
I was freed from the wooden post and lead to the pool. To a chair like structure that was half submerged. I was made to sit, and then my hands and feet were bound to the chair.
It was only in that moment I let an ounce of fear show.
Bound to the chair, I closed my eyes, and kept them closed, refusing to let in the light, refusing to let them win.
And that’s when I found my hate.
“Do you know what this is?
” One of the council asks.
My eyes snap open and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay quiet.
“You’re sitting in a ducking chair, Ever. It’s a traditional torture method that dates back to the 1600s,” he says. “Back then humans used it on those convicted of witchcraft to elicit a confession.”
But I was no witch. It was in this moment that I almost wished I was, because then I’d have magic at my disposal and a way out of the mess I was in right now.
“We however use it for more practical purposes. Nobody likes being drowned after all.”
I was to be drowned. I opened my mouth and screamed.
The lake before me twinkled like gemstones — turquoise and jet swirled together. It would have been pretty if in a matter of moments, I wasn’t being dunked.
My heart grew bigger in my chest until I felt as if it might explode. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
Noise came from behind me and I had to fight all my instincts that were telling me not to look and… look.
My eyes locked straight ahead. The chair flew upward. I gasped, taking in much needed air before closing my mouth once more and suppressing a scream.
No. God, no.
And then I fell. Splashing into the freezing water.
The moment the water lapped around my ankles; I gave up trying to be brave. Giving into my fear.
I squirmed. Wriggling against my restraints. I would have fled if I could. Broke free.
As the wooden chair sank into the water, lapping at my legs. Steadily rising to my waist and over my breasts, my throat, until finally it reached my mouth.
I crane my neck. Fighting the lakes embrace. Until at last, I slip.
The lake takes me.
I promised I wouldn’t scream, but that was a lie.
