by Kathryn Moon
We were finding our peace together at last.
The table was grand, as was the rest of Amon's home, but not so large we couldn't all speak to one another. Amon's servants were brownies, as Jonathon explained to me, a fae species inclined to service, and they looked like Cork from Auguste's home. I was a little ashamed to say that I barely noticed them coming and going with fresh drinks and plates. I suspected it had to do with their magic or my absolute absorption in admiring my dinner party of men.
Amon's eyes hooded as I licked the chocolate off the pudding spoon, and I exaggerated the flick of my tongue in answer, making Jonathon chuckle.
"Wicked little tease." I grinned at Jonathon, and his shoe nudged mine under the table. "You can't help it, can you?"
I shrugged. "I'm not sure I ever bothered trying," I admitted.
Amon cleared his throat from the other end of the table, catching our gaze and then stiffening in place. His eyes flicked back and forth between us all, and a moment later, I came to the impossible conclusion that he appeared nervous. It was such an un-Amon-like thing to be that I could only stare dumbly back at him until he spoke.
"I did have a specific motive for asking you all here," he said eventually, straightening. "I would like to discuss…your—your future, Esther."
"Her future?" Auguste repeated, frowning slightly.
"With you, you mean," Ezra added, looking equally serious.
Amon sighed, shoulders sagging slightly, but he only met my gaze. "I considered that this decision is only Esther's to make, but I didn't want any appearance of cutting you out. So, no. With…us all."
He said the words a little stiffly, but it seemed more like he was unaccustomed to the words, rather than uncomfortable with them.
Amon swallowed hard and continued. "You enjoy Rooksgrave, I know—"
"I enjoy you," I interrupted, glancing at Auguste. "I do enjoy Rooksgrave, but…" I couldn't find the words, my mouth parting several times but not making a sound. Still, the men around the table waited in patient silence. "I don't know that I would be unhappy with others, but I do know that I am happy with you, with you all. And if any of you would wish to leave the arrangement, I would—"
I would be heartbroken. When had it happened? I'd never been in love before, and now it seemed to fill me up until I was all but bursting.
"We don't, mon coeur," Auguste said.
"The opposite," Amon agreed with a nod. "The timeline is entirely up to you, Esther. We might continue your patronage at Rooksgrave indefinitely, or we might be…more to you. At any time you choose."
"I've heard the girls at the manor talk, puisín," Ezra said, his smile winking at me. "Lots of them look forward to riding off into the sunset with one of their gentlemen. You could just have five. When you're ready."
Was I ready? Would Magdalena be offended if I walked off with her clients?
No, I realized. That's what she's trying to do—find pairs who are happy together.
"We would live here together?" I asked, frowning a little. "Auguste has a house and Jonathon a practice."
"We could live anywhere you like," Amon said, although there was a little wince in his eyes.
"I'm more interested in my experiments than my practice if I'm honest," Jonathon said. "Especially lately."
"It's never bad to have a house in a good part of London," Auguste added with a shrug. "I have them in several places, in fact."
I let out a puff of exasperated breath at this news, and he grinned at me.
"I would like you to see my home," Amon said softly. "My real home. In Egypt. But there is no rush, and if it is not to your taste—"
Now Auguste was wrinkling his nose. "Egypt isn't the best place for a vampire, but it might be managed."
Booker was the only one who hadn't spoken up yet, and I found him watching me. "What do you think?" I asked. Booker and I were tethered together. If the choice was up to me, it also needed to be up to him.
"I am yours," he said.
I pursed my lips, ignoring the little hum of conversation at the other end of the table and Ezra mentioning Dublin—probably just to exasperate Amon. "You're your own too."
Booker blinked and then looked around the table, out into the hall. He'd been quiet all evening, studying every room with intense interest, examining the art on the walls. It suddenly occurred to me that this was Booker's first time outside of Rooksgrave Manor and its property. He had joined us without a mention of it, and he wasn't simply quiet and observant. He was fascinated. Suddenly, as if the tether allowed for us to communicate without a glance or a word, I knew his answer.
"I would like to travel," he said.
A giddy excitement bubbled up in me. I'd seen more of the world than Booker, but not nearly as much as the rest of my gentlemen. We might have adventures together, or at least explorations.
I turned back to find everyone else watching us intently, and tried to contain my sudden determination to say yes. I had more questions, more things I needed to be sure of before I made a promise.
"I like my role at Rooksgrave. My work, if it can be called that," I began, and Amon nodded eagerly.
"You don't need to be concerned about any financial arrangement. It could be continued, you would want for nothing, my star."
"I'm not talking about money, Amon! I just mean… What if I wanted something new?"
"It would be yours," Amon said easily.
I huffed and rolled my eyes. "I don't mean new dresses or jewelry. I mean what if I wanted to…to learn something. Have a skill. Do something else with my days besides just…wait for one of you to want me?"
Amon blinked at that, brow furrowing, and I was surprised by the sinking weight in my chest. I hadn't ever really wanted more than to be allowed to have my fun without needing to feel guilty about it, but I was always curious and it would hurt to know that curiosity might have to be limited to sex.
"I don't want to be your cage, little star. I'd like to be your home," Amon said, cutting my worry off in a simple answer.
"I don't believe a single one of us would be interested in preventing you from exploring all the world has to offer, Esther," Jonathon said, reaching for my hand on the table.
"We just want to be at your side as you do it, mon coeur," Auguste added with a nod.
I looked at Ezra next and found him smirking. He sagged, feigning a poor attempt at being put out, and let out a long sigh. "I suppose you might be permitted a hobby or two," he said, in a terrible, nasal, English accent.
"Beast," I said fondly.
"I can think of a thing or two I could teach you—Ow! Book, mate, you're made of stone," Ezra grumbled rubbing the arm that had just been punched.
"I know," Booker said mildly.
"You're really all so sure about—about this?" I asked. Me. They were so sure of me? My aunt had been too eager to push me into service, and I'd found myself passed from house to house, searching for a place that suited. Rooksgrave was nearly perfect, but this? This sounded so much better!
"It is new, I admit, but I'm convinced I couldn't find a better, more incorrigible young lady to spend my evenings with. In bed, or the kitchen, or anywhere else you'd let me take you," Auguste said.
Jonathon and Ezra echoed their agreement with a brief raise of their glasses, and at the far end of the table, Amon watched me with a smile.
"I have no doubt you will improve my days and nights, and I simply wish to do the same for you, my star," Amon murmured, warmth flooding my cheeks at the praise.
"She's already made a lot of progress on your personality," Ezra said, blinking innocently.
Amon bared his teeth at the other man, but I thought his shoulders might have been shaking with a hint of laughter.
"There's no rush to leave the manor, either," Jonathon reminded me, squeezing my hand. "When you're ready we can move on. Together."
I took a deep breath, torn between declaring myself ready now and shy of the thought of moving on from the structure of Rooksgrave. I'd
never really had a relationship before, let alone five. And they were all still learning each other as I was learning them. But I had time. And now I had this beautiful choice, this possibility of a life, laid out before me. A life with the wildest and most intense sex I'd ever had, friendship, experience—and yes, the pretty dresses and beautiful homes and soft beds too.
"Then I accept," I said softly.
Amon's face lit up, and he rose so quickly from his chair that Auguste had to catch it before it toppled over. I laughed at the obvious joy in his expression, pushing back my chair to meet him as he rushed around the table.
"You accept?" Amon repeated, eyes wide and hands gripping my waist.
I nodded, unable to fight the stretch of my own smile. "I'm not ready to pack up tonight—"
"As much time as you need," Amon rushed out.
"—but I accept." I barely got the last syllable out before Amon's lips were on mine, folding my mouth in powerful kisses that echoed down into my bones. I parted my lips to deepen them, and he pulled away, gaze glowing.
"This calls for a celebration, gentlemen."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A Celebration
“When you said celebration—" I broke off with a moan, Ezra's hands on my shoulder digging into muscle and working out tension I'd never even been aware of.
Jonathon had one of my hands in his and was coaching Booker on how to massage it, giving delicate attention to every joint and callous, as Amon and Auguste each treated a leg to this decadent rub down.
"You assumed I meant drinks, music, dancing?" Amon asked.
"She assumed you meant fucking," Ezra answered, stroking his hands down to the base of my spine and making me whimper and pant.
"Yes, that," I said, nodding until Ezra's path returned up to my neck, fingertips kneading gently there.
I smelled a little like Amon, coated in oil that made my skin warm and tingly even where no one touched, but I was missing his notes of a coming thunderstorm. I was thrumming and hot, but the pleasure of being touched this way, stroked and massaged until I was absolutely limp, was too good to interrupt. Even for fucking.
"You will be," Amon said, kissing the back of my knee, one hand moving down to the ankle as the other worked its way thoroughly up to my ass. "When you're well taken care of."
"I was well taken care of long before we stepped into this room. How are you all so good at this?" I murmured, my eyelashes fluttering.
We were upstairs together, in a room I was pretty sure was meant for this purpose entirely. There was a fireplace on either end to keep the vast space warm, and I'd been placed on a padded platform that was the perfect length to stretch out, fingertip to toes. The walls were painted a deep oxblood red, with strange geometric shapes traced in black.
"As if it's some hardship to touch you, mon coeur," Auguste said with a chuckle.
I hummed at that and sighed as Auguste's touch moved up the inside of my thigh toward my sex.
"Getting impatient, vampire?" Amon asked as Auguste stroked the lips of my sex.
"Can you blame me?" Auguste answered. "But it's your house, you can be director if you please."
"Mmm, I suppose I did promise her celebration. Turn her over."
I giggled, remaining limp as five pairs of hands carefully manipulated me onto my back, my legs and arms sprawled comfortably over the platform as the lot of them stared down at me.
"I feel like I'm the buffet," I said, grinning.
"You're certainly dessert," Jonathon said, eyeing me from head to toe.
"Speaking of, Monsieur Thibodeaux has yet to eat. I would be a very ungracious host not to provide him with refreshment, don't you think, little star?" Amon asked.
"Mm, definitely. And I know exactly what to offer," I said, laughing as Ezra tickled my neck. I spread my legs wide, bending my knees up, and watched Auguste's eyes blacken as they dropped to my exposed sex.
Auguste let out a soft growl as Amon moved out of his way, and then he bent, arms wrapping around my hips to drag me to the edge of the platform. He dropped to his knees, mouth at the perfect height. I barely had the chance to catch a gasp of breath before he was licking and lapping gently, nibbling with soft lips and sucking on the crease of my thigh to draw my blood to the surface. The simmering hint of arousal that had lingered through my massage bloomed quickly with every deliberate stroke of his tongue.
Ezra followed up onto the platform at my head, fingers working into my hair to pull pins free, his massage moving up into my scalp. I moaned for the pair of them, Auguste's attention to my pleasure and Ezra's to my comfort.
"This is…oh, this is nice," I said, feeling almost drunk on how relaxed I was.
"Just nice, hm? Book," Ezra prompted.
I moaned as cool, firm lips kissed over one breast, Booker's fingers teasing the other.
Somewhere in the room, a note of music sounded and I twitched, Jonathon stroking a hand down my arm in reassurance. "It's a gramophone. A recording of music, there's only us here."
"Not that I would've minded," I murmured, cupping my free hand over Booker's skull to encourage him to suck a little harder.
"Mmm, but private is nice too, isn't it, wicked girl?" Jonathon said softly.
I nodded, making Ezra's fingers scratch into the roots of my hair. Auguste's hands had me planted firmly for his taking, his tongue just starting to dip inside me.
"Ohhh, Auguste, please," I breathed. "Amon? Amon, tell him to make me come."
Auguste huffed against my sex, and Ezra tugged on my hair. I squirmed, a warm hand passing up my leg over Auguste's shoulder before Amon reappeared at my side.
"I think I'd rather watch them have their way with you," Amon said, smiling as my eyes widened. "Mm, yes. Everyone has their turn, and then I will claim you at the end when you are too weak to boss me around."
I giggled, but the sound cracked on a cry as Booker sucked on a nipple at the same moment Auguste focused on my clit, the two watching each other and organizing their assault on my senses. After the sexual frenzy I'd enjoyed for the past couple of weeks, this slow and languid pace was delicious and drowsy.
"You look like you're half asleep," Jonathon whispered in my ear.
"Mm no, just feels so good, like—Oh, Auguste, yesss, there! Ah! Like—like floating," I gasped out as Auguste latched onto my clit, kissing and sucking on it alternately. Booker nibbled and pinched each pert tip of my breasts, and there was a strand of electricity running between their attention, lighting me up from inside, brighter and brighter with every sustained second until suddenly, it burst in a shower of sparks.
Auguste's fingers slid into me, his mouth traveling to bite next to my sex as I clutched and spasmed on his touch. Booker gentled his own teasing, leaning back as I came back down from my high, blinking and grinning lazily.
"Why are you still dressed?" I asked Auguste.
"Mm, you'll see," he answered, turning to Amon.
"Mr. MacKenna, you won't mind allowing us a good view of our star as you fill her up, will you?" Amon asked.
Ezra's fingers slid through my hair, and he jumped eagerly off the platform, vanishing and shedding the fine clothes Auguste had ordered him for the dinner. "Not in the least. Probably couldn't stay in view for long once I was inside of her anyway. She feels too damn good."
"Am I just expected to lie here and enjoy myself?" I asked, pretending to be bothered by the idea.
"You are," Amon said, grinning back. "Although if you wanted to suck a cock, I wouldn't stop you."
I batted my lashes at him, squeaking slightly as Ezra's touch appeared on my hips, pushing me back on the platform a little. Amon stepped forward, his hands moving down to his pants, and I whipped my head to the other side.
"Booker, would you mind very much?"
Booker stood up straight and everyone went quiet.
"Is that safe?" Auguste murmured, but I was pleased he was asking Booker rather than one of the others.
"For her, yes," Booker said, his brow
furrowing. "For me? Possible torture."
I opened my mouth to tease him, but then Ezra was there at my entrance, filling me up with one stroke, the pair of us groaning at the sudden connection.
"We should have a portrait painted of her like that," Jonathon mused, the others agreeing.
Before I could get a grip on the conversation, head too busy with the press and stretch of Ezra inside of me, Booker's shadow landed over me, his and Jonathon's hands sliding me closer to the edge.
Booker had shed his shirt as eagerly as Ezra, his pants already sliding down to his knees, cock rising slowly. Staring up at the ridges and valleys of his chest was dizzying, blue eyes watching me as I tilted my chin up, pressing a kiss to the very tip of him. He was so still, not needing to breathe, but he seemed to tense and clench as I sucked on the underside.
Ezra started to move between my hips, and I swallowed the head of Booker, letting Ezra's motion rock my lips around Booker's cock, my tongue twisting around the smaller tip as the swells and bumps on his length teased my mouth like kisses.
"Tickles," Booker murmured, and then grunted as I pulled my lips back to let him feel my teeth. His hips jumped, just a little deeper, and he started to shift himself in and out, my eyes widening.
He liked it. Booker liked teeth. I grinned and started to bob, finding Ezra's ass with my heels and driving him on.
Booker rumbled as I fucked his length with my mouth, his hands sliding into my hair to cup my head and help me twist at the right angle.
"You try that with me and I’ll flog your pretty ass until you can’t sit, puisín," Ezra panted, but he followed my urging into fucking me faster, making me slide and rock on the platform, swallowing Booker a little deeper every time.
