Black Magic (The Raven Queen's Harem 3)

Bunny with his charm and amazing skills.

Dylan, intelligent and reserved. A silent ally.

I’ve been with each of them, one way or the other—Clinton, who ushered me into womanhood. Sam, most intimately due to our bond of friendship and his healing my wounds. Damien showed me sex can be fun and exciting. I set my eyes on the other two. Although I’ve yet to consummate my relationships fully with Dylan and Bunny, that doesn’t lessen what I know and feel about them. They’ve touched my soul.

But tonight is about something different. I feel it in the air. I feel it in my bones. I have to choose, and what we experience in this room will last with us forever. It will help me make my decision.

I turn and shut the door behind me and then face the men of my past and future.

“It’s all led up to this, hasn’t it?” I ask the room.

They each nod their approval in their own way.

“Then let’s do this.” I take a deep breath. “This is about souls. About mating. Not just about sex. That’s off the table for tonight, understand?”

They all offer agreement, although some more reluctantly than others.

“I want to taste you. Feel you,” I explain. “Let me touch you, if that’s all right?”

I sound brave but I have no idea where to start. How do I do this? I was a virgin weeks ago and now I’m ready for a semi-orgy? My hands shake and I settle them against my side. Sam, always my Sam, senses my hesitation and wraps his arms around my waist. He pulls me close and says in a whisper against my lips, “Anything you want. Anything you need. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He kisses me and at first all I can think of is that the others are watching. I feel the hard length in his pants pressing against my lower belly. I feel the soft pads of his fingers as they stroke the bare skin on my shoulders and arms. Goosepimples rise on my arms. I feel the energy churning beneath the surface, the hunger and need I’d pushed off now for days.

I exhale, feeling a sense of relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies and spins me around. I stumble into Clinton’s massive arms.

His hands palm my back, tugging at the fabric of my top. He drops his head, his tongue seeking mine. His kiss exemplifies everything I know about him. Strength and confidence. I touch his stomach and feel the hard muscle beneath his shirt. My belly clenches. My core aches. It’s as though my head is spinning and spinning with each deepening kiss and when I stop to catch my breath he says, “I know you’ll choose wisely, my Queen, never doubt our loyalty.”

Before I can reply, he picks me up with those bulging arms and carries me across the room. The act is silly and sweet for such a dominating presence. I wonder for a brief moment if he’s going to simply carry me from the room, toss me on a bed and ravish me. For a quick second I almost ask him to, but instead he eases me onto Bunny’s lap, my skirt hiked up around my thighs. We’re on a wide, square ottoman, an island in the middle of the room. The warmth of Clinton’s hands releases me but I feel the elegant touch of Bunny’s fingers in my hair and his copper eyes boring into my soul.

“Hi,” I say to him, completely unaware of the others. His gaze holds me tight. The hard length of manhood presses against my leg. My resolve to only kiss these men—feel them—wavers, especially when Bunny kisses my throat, then shoulders. He presses his lips to the center of my chest, right above my breasts. My nipples harden. My panties wet. I kiss him hard and shift against the steel in his pants. I’d said this wasn’t about sex but the hunger in me doesn’t agree. I need friction. I want more.

Bunny pulls me forward with his one good hand and the move presses hard against my clit. In my ear he says, “Every day is an honor. Every breath is a gift. I love to see you laugh. To see you fight. To watch you come.”

Bunny, good lord, Bunny. He has this way. He has such an incredible intensity. I desperately want to feel him inside me. He kisses me hard, the strength rolling through every inch of my body. I climb on top of him. I lick his jaw. I only stop when he pushes me back gently and says quietly, “Not now, love.”

“But,” I start to argue, but he slips from underneath me. I’m suddenly on my knees and Damien is inches away, crawling over the leather. I perk up and meet him halfway.

“This is hard,” I confess. “Why do you all have to be so beautiful?”

He touches my cheek. “Because a Queen deserves the best. The most powerful and strong. The brightest and intuitive. Someone to make you happy in bed. Someone to fight next to you in battle. Someone that will protect your kingdom and your heart.”

His kiss is wild and brings out the feral animal in my chest. I want to run free with him. I want to strip off his clothes and mine and fuck until we’ve got nothing left. My body heats, my mind spins, and my blood boils. And just when I think things are taking shape in my mind, I feel a body behind me. I feel hands on my hips. Damien looks over my shoulder and winks at the person behind me. I hear a grunt in reply.

Dylan.

I haven’t kept track of the others when I’m with one of the Guardians and even now I find them hazy around the edges. It’s like when I’m with one, the others vanish. I sense them, but can’t see them. A veil separates us. It makes me bold.

I press my ass into Dylan’s body, finding his cock hard and ready.

He hisses this time and he steadies my body. Each of these men allows me to take control—all but this one. It’s in his nature. He’ll fight me to the end. Like Bunny, I know he won’t push it all the way tonight. He’s too proud. He wants me to make the decision based on merit—not physical prowess.

Tonight though, under the circumstances, he caves. Just a little.

I can’t see him but I definitely feel him as he pushes my hair over my shoulder. There’s the heat of his breath against my neck, followed by slow kisses over my shoulders and back. A chill runs down my spine—not the bad kind—the very, very good kind. Every nerve in my body sets on edge.