“You want to.” Geoffrey raked his teeth over his bottom lip, turning it a pretty shade of pink that Ian always found difficult not to kiss. Color had risen in his cheeks, and in Ian’s soul, he felt something start to stir. The suggestion of arousal curled and drifted like smoke through his groin, and he knew it wasn’t his own. It couldn’t be.
The impossible bond he shared with Geoffrey didn’t lie—despite how he protested, Geoffrey found the idea of sharing Matthieu as alluring as Ian did.
“It’s just this one time.” Ian kept a careful watch on Geoffrey’s face, making sure that he didn’t push his lover past the point of comfort. If Geoffrey truly didn’t want to do this, Ian wouldn’t force it on him. The idea, however, was the best they had, and if sharing Matthieu meant they had an extra year to figure out how to extract themselves from this predicament, Ian didn’t want to pass it up. “Once there is proof that the omega has been bred, I’ll take him back to the Topaz consulate in Aurora. While we’re there, no one but you and your brothers will be able to verify if we’re sticking to the terms of the experiment. My father won’t interfere.”
“One year,” Geoffrey murmured, gaze downcast as he thought.
“One time only, out of necessity,” Ian corrected. “It doesn’t have to be so bad, beloved. Imagine it: you and me between the sheets, sharing our newest toy…”
Geoffrey looked up so quickly, he startled Ian. Fire lit the violet skies of his dark eyes, dancing like heat lightning. With a step forward, Geoffrey closed the space between himself and Ian and grabbed Ian by the lapel. “Ourtoy,” he murmured. “Ours.”
“It’s dirty, isn’t it?” Ian grinned, then tilted his head to the side and kissed Geoffrey hard, intending to steal the air from his lungs and leave him dizzy. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that a filthy old man like you would want something so depraved? And you want it, don’t you? I canfeelit.”
Chemistry, every bit as sizzling and irresistible as it had been one hundred years ago, electrocuted Ian from the inside out, and his cock stiffened until he was sure it would slice through the fly of his Brioni trousers.
“So filthy,” Geoffrey uttered, threading his fingers through Ian’s hair. They spoke lip to lip, Geoffrey’s excitement abuzz between them. “I’m so fucking filthy, Ian. Such a fucking filthy old man.” There was more, unsaid, under those words.
He’s so pretty, Ian, and I am so worried.
Ian replied to those unspoken words with some of his own, channeling the feeling into the strange connection they shared.As pretty as he is, I only have eyes for you.
With the spoken word, he reassured Geoffrey in a different way—by dirty-talking him like he always did when they were about to be devious together. Having Matthieu in the picture changed nothing. Ian was, and always would be, Geoffrey’s. “I want to see you screw him, Geoff. I want to watch you fill his young body with your massive, ancient cock and come inside him like the sick old man you are. I want to see your fat knot lock him to you, and then I want to see mine stretch that tight hole alongside it.”
Geoffrey shivered with pleasure, and just like that, Ian knew there was no going back. He would share his omega with Geoffrey, and they would botch the experiment together.
6
Matthieu
The mattress on the ridiculously large, obviously expensive bed was soft—Matthieu’s knees sank into it as he crawled across, like it was a formless blob fashioned from clouds shoved in a high-thread-count sack. Did all dragons sleep on beds like this? Probably not. If they did, Matthieu had no doubt that Superintendent Durand would have had him crawling across amorphous beanbag chairs until he could do so with seductive confidence better befitting of a nymphomaniac in heat during a dry spell than a largely uninterested French boy looking forward to aging out of the Pedigree.
Luckily, no dragons were there to see him make a fool of himself.
Matthieu arrived at the center of the bed, sighed contently, and plopped down. The stupid black thong Superintendent Durand had gifted him upon completion of his formative year was wedged uncomfortably between his cheeks, and he rolled slightly onto his side to fix it when he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Matthieu yelped.
Standing by the doorway were both of the dragons he’d left behind.
It looked like the thong would have to stay where it was.
“You’ll have to excuse me.” Matthieu slowly positioned himself on the bed, using the pillows to leverage his body to best utilize his natural beauty. If nothing else, being in the Pedigree had taught him how to be pretty, and he intended to use what he’d learned to his advantage. “I did not think that you would follow me. If I had known, I would have—”
He stopped speaking when the asshole dragon came to stand by the bedside, a strange look on his face. Matthieu tried to pin down what could motivate an expression like that, but fell short. So far, the Amethyst—Geoffrey—had been so clinical and uptight that seeing him emote was a strange and slightly horrific occurrence. It was as surreal as witnessing a solider in the Queen’s Guard smile. Not that Geoffrey was smiling. In fact, even though he didn’t appear to be his typical uptight self, there was still a serious gleam in his eyes that pinned Matthieu to the bed much in the same way that the bossy dragon’s magic had when Matthieu had tried to slip out during their squabble.
Pinning, and…
Aroused?
Matthieu squinted. It wasn’t becoming of him to do so, but the situation called for it, and sure enough, he confirmed what his gut had thought was true.
The dragon was aroused.
How unexpected.
Maybe wedgies were his fetish.
“We’ve come to a decision,” Geoffrey said. Much of the rigidity from their prior conversation had left his voice, and Matthieu found it quite lovely now that it was less guarded. “We accept your offer, and wish to work with you toward our common goal.”
Matthieu paused. “Oh.”
