A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 3)

The woman hadn’t come yet, though. Shit. She had to come for this to work!

I struggled up like a woman on a mission, shoved the useless male demon out of the way, kicked off the other, and shoved my head between her spread thighs. She jerked, clearly never having done this before, but her eyes were glazed with pleasure, and her need to finish beat out her uncertainty about letting another woman go down on her for the first time.

I wasn’t a master at this, and I didn’t much like doing it, but I would pull out all the stops for the occasion.

I swirled and licked and finger-fucked that thing with gusto. Hands touched down on my ass before a cock threaded into my pussy, and I didn’t bother to look back to see who was joining the party. I pulsed suction on her clit as the large cock stretched me pleasantly—a new person, then.

Fuck, spreading a little debauchery around here was easy!

I tongued her clit and felt the cock pull out and move up.

Ah. He wanted to fuck an ass, probably for the first time, judging by his panicked movements to get inside.

Fine, whatever.

The woman screamed—literally screamed—out her orgasm as the cock dove in deep, no lube to speak of. As the pain consumed me, turning to fucking exquisite pleasure, I felt hands tearing me away from the woman, pushing me back, and then Hadriel’s face swam above me as he sat me firmly onto the cock in my ass and shoved another demon to my front. He was keeping them rolling down the mountain of “wow, that got way outta hand.” I’d gone from a little kink, to a little voyeurism, to a little orgy, to a full scale free-for-all in the space of an hour. They did not know what had hit them. I was going to ruin them all with my magnificent pussy.

This was the beginning of the end. Their days of reserved, vanilla sex parties would never be the same. They wouldn’t really be shame-fucking, though. No way. They’d be feeding that spark of lust that existed in them all. They’d be in their element.

I didn’t know what the demon king had been trying, keeping their appetites all caged up, but we’d just set them loose. Their deeds here would forever alter them.

Welcome to hell, demon castle. Cheers!

SEVENTEEN

FINLEY

“Here, Hannon, drink this.” I sat next to Hannon’s head in his cell, holding a dented tin cup filled with cold-steeped everlass.

He lay on his stomach with his eyes closed and his head pointed my way. His shirt had been all but stripped away on his back, revealing angry gashes, welts, and tears in his skin.

He’d been here about a month and had received one to two whippings a week, fairly moderate in aggression by the look of it. It didn’t seem that his power was a problem—the officers seemed all too happy with what they’d gotten out of him—but his ability to heal. He had access to his animal, which had given him power and sight in the dark and other enhanced abilities, but his body didn’t seem to heal at accelerated rates. For that reason, they couldn’t whip him as often as they liked.

“It’s okay,” Hannon said softly, his eyes closed and pain lacing his features. “Save it for someone who needs it more.”

Vemar whistled, leaning into the open doorway and looking in. “That is one selfless man, right there. Brother, you need it more. None of us take this long to heal, even with our animals suppressed. Take the Strange Brew.”

Tamara and Lucille sat cross-legged just outside the cell, looking concerned.

“Take it, Hannon,” Tamara said. “It’ll at least let us see if your sister is any good with those everlass leaves she picks and hoards.”

“Well it’s cold-steeped because we don’t have access to a fire, and it’s just everlass because we obviously also don’t have access to a garden or herbs or anything, but it should ease the pain and speed the healing a little,” I said. “The plants are happy and leaves prepared well. They’ll help as best they can.”

“The goddess only knows she’s been talking to the things for long enough,” Vemar said.

“It hurts to move,” Hannon grumbled.

Vemar hung his head a little, and the girls wilted. It hadn’t taken long for Hannon to earn everyone’s love. My soft, calm brother—never ruffled, never complaining, always supportive—had a way of winning loyalty. His pain was their pain. His act of selflessness in getting here pulled on everyone’s heartstrings. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d be jealous as fuck.

Instead, I was just grateful. He needed the help. He shouldn’t be here. I was the one that was supposed to take risks and get banged up, not him.

“I’ll help.” Micah stepped around Vemar and walked into the cell, glancing at the cup in my hand. “Is that your water?”