Page 170 of Griffin Food

Aldric’s power surges through me, consuming the last vestiges of restraint, reminding me that when a man and griffin bond, they become something else. Something more than either was before. Something primitive. Something ancient. Something driven by the laws of nature and the imperative to breed, to leave a legacy behind. There are many forms of legacy, but it is the one born of flesh that consumes me now.

Lark has shifted back to wolf form. He does not interfere. And Rafe—I feel him storming along the corridors. I had kept a tight lock on the mate bond, not allowing her pleasure to leak through, but I have released it now, and he knows exactly what this is.

I strip the ruin of her gown away, but even this brief delay meets with her disapproval. Her nails rake the side of my throat, drawing blood. Her teeth find the other side and sink deep even as her nimble fingers fumble at my belt.

My lips curve in pure masculine satisfaction. With a flash, I send my clothes into the ether, and her small fingers wrap around my cock.

The desk is not ideal for what I have in mind, but I’m too far gone to make it to the nest, and I don’t believe she has the patience for it either. The rug before the fire will have to do.

I rise, taking her with me, and drop her to her hands and knees at the center of the rug… just as the door opens and Rafe crashes in.

He holds the door wide, nostrils flared, and his fury and arousal pummel me through the bond. “Out,” he barks at Lark.

Lark makes his way out with deliberate slowness. The door bangs against the jamb.

Rafe takes a deep breath, his eyes moving from mine to where Violet kneels on the rug, back arched, presenting herself perfectly.

“Rafe.” She holds out her hand to him. “I need you.”

His entire demeanor shifts from a man who wants to tear my head from my shoulders to one who would lay the world at her feet. She has us all whipped, and every one of us would have it no other way.

He drops to his knees before her. “Gods, what have they done to you?” He cups her cheeks, leans down, and takes her mouth, his tongue sliding between her parted lips. It is an arresting sight. I have ever enjoyed watching.

“You are overdressed,” I say. “And I believe she wants something other than your tongue in her mouth.”

He growls.

I am too busy lining up, grimacing as the sensitive head of my cock slides through her dripping folds. I push, slamming deep, feeling her suck me into her pussy even as she cries into Rafe’s mouth.

He tears his lips from hers, cups her face, and as I take her, I watch him watching the rapture playing out across her features.

“Does that feel good?” he asks her. “Is this what you needed?”

“Yes,” she pants. “Oh, yes.”

He pushes two thick fingers into her mouth, deep enough to make her gag. “Take what you need, mate. We are always here for you.”

Violet

I am an insensible puddle, on my hands and knees before the fire, as Atlas’s thick, ridged cock slams into my pussy over and over again.

Finally, Rafe gets the idea of what I need and shoves my hands aside to free his cock and fill my mouth. A climax is coming for me—the darkest, most consuming kind—lifting me, tearing me apart. I moan around Rafe’s cock. I know what is coming.

I was not of sound mind back in the Sundial room, but now I am.

He’s going to barb me.

I crave that he will.

The ridged corkscrew that lines his cock creates a suction on my sensitive inner pussy walls as he thrusts wetly in and out. Knowing there is more, that his barbs will finally spike my flesh, should terrify me, shouldn’t it?

All I remember is that the pain was fleeting and overwritten by a euphoria every bit as addictive as a knot. I am impatient, pushing back for more, beseeching him through my actions—through the way I present—to finally give me what I need.

“Good girl,” Rafe says. “Look at you, taking this. Does it feel good when he fucks you with his ridged cock? Do you want him to hook your soft cunt and send you high again?”

The question is rhetorical. He knows I do. They use me roughly. Atlas, taking my hips in his big hands as he pounds into me. Rafe, fist in my hair as he uses my mouth. Pinpricks skitter across my skin. I grow restless. Ready to do something foolish, like break free for no reason than to test their resolve to master me as I need.

Rafe’s fingers tighten against my scalp, almost like he senses my rebellion… but of course, he does. Have I forgotten about the bond, how they read my every emotion, and my mind? Nature is both cruel and compelling. Giving them the perfect means through a mate bond to control a rebellious omega in the throes of her passion.