Page 81 of Griffin Food

“Oh,” she says inadequately, one hand flying to her mouth. “Lark⁠—”

She puts a small, comforting hand against his shoulder. He growls deeper.

My grin grows broader. Darrion was always, as Atlas has often pointed out, a presumptuous prick. Still, it’s a fucking ballsy move, and I begrudgingly respect it.

Lark suddenly shifts to human, snatches Violet up, and drops her in the center of the nest, right over Darrion’s silk jacket. Her pretty dress is stripped from her in short order—the lass is lustful and impatient to help him in the task. It is almost like the two of them have forgotten I am here.

Well, all right then. I guess we’re getting straight down to it. Not a chance I can make myself walk out that door. Lark’s cock is already hard, dripping pre-cum over Darrion’s silk jacket as he pins his little omega to the nest.

I snort a laugh. Poor Darrion didn’t think this through. He probably had some vision of her snuggling her cheek against it as she slept, not her other mates getting their seed all over it.

I don’t realize I’ve moved until my feet hit the sandy pit.

“Oh,” Violet says for the second time in as many minutes, her wide, pretty eyes glancing up at me.

Her aroused scent suddenly saturates the air.

Interesting reaction…

Lark turns to snarl at me.

“It’s a good plan,” I say, gesturing to Darrion’s jacket. “Getting your seed all over it. It’ll piss him off no end.”

His scowl deepens. “I thought he was your friend?”

I shrug. “I like him well enough. But I’ve known him for a long time. And Darrion has his share of quirks.”

This seems to take him aback.

He glances from me to the closed door. “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

I indicate them. “Well, I’m hoping you’re going to fuck her and I get to watch. Never came so hard as I did that time when you got your fist all up inside her. Griffins don’t have a knot. We have… other things. But you’ll have a knot now, and I fully anticipate it being even hotter than the fisting when you stuff that inside her cunt.”

Violet makes a weak, strangling sound. Her aroused scent is so thick that I’m having trouble holding onto coherent thoughts.

“Can I touch her?” I probably shouldn’t have asked him that. Better if I’d waited until he was fucking her and distracted, and then moved in. But I’ve never been particularly good at abstinence, and her scent is like a fever crawling under my skin.

“The fuck,” he mutters.

“Lark—” she begins.

“Hush,” he says without looking at her. “Your fucking scent is already saying enough.” Then to me. “Only touch?”

“I’ll take anything I can get,” I say bluntly. My mouth is fucking watering. I want to taste all that sticky goodness her body is pumping out. To feed.

“Won’t that piss your leader off?”

I’d almost forgotten about Atlas, about Darrion, about the hierarchy and the order of things.

“It will. But I don’t care about him. I don’t even care about you. Unless Violet tells me to go, or Atlas turns up and drags me out, I’m staying.”

He huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

Violet

He’s in the room with us. I know that he shouldn’t be. He knows that he shouldn’t be. Lark is similarly clued in, yet all of us are staring at one another. And the air is loaded with so much tension it’s a wonder I don’t expire. Only it’s not the dead kind of expiring I’m thinking about. It’s the way my body has pitched into a kind of frenzied lust.

I’m looking at him—the red-headed griffin shifter with the magnificent russet wings. Atlas is like a boulder, solid and unmoving. His decisions are made like moving pieces upon a chessboard. I sense that he sees things beyond human understanding—higher, broader, multifaceted. The things he does to me are strategic, aimed at delivering me to a goal—my submission to him. I know that’s what he wants. And I’m halfway giving it to him now. And yet still he holds back.