“What?” I squeaked.
“Not so cool when it's the other way around, eh?”
“We're both adults, I can handle a man masturbating near me,” I huffed. “And by the way, Iama princess. I'm also a queen and a duchess.”
“Yeah, and I'm the Lord of Hell.”
“He's a king,” I corrected him. “And my father-in-law. You're about to masturbate with the Princess of Hell.”
“Are you... are you being serious right now?”
“Yes, but we'll talk about it later.”
“You just said that you're married to a Faulin.”
“I'm in a multi-fusion. I'm married to three men and committed to a fourth.”
“Well, fuck.” He chuckled low in his throat. “I'm imprisoned with royalty.”
I blinked, surprised he hadn't remarked on my polyamorous life instead. “Don't worry, I forgive you for not bowing.”
Rain let out a sharp, amused breath. “Damn it, don't make me laugh. I'm trying to get in the mood here. It's already hard enough as it is.”
“I think the point is to make it hard, isn't it?” I purred.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “That's helping. Keep it up, beautiful.”
I flushed. I'd meant it as a joke but this was serious. I needed to contact Cyprian, but I didn't want to wake the whole floor and amp up their libidos in the process. Of course, I could always feed on their lust, but that might get my magic noticed. Tricky. So very tricky.
I heard Rain move. My bed was wedged up beside the partition that hid the toilet. On the other side of the toilet was the sink and then my nasty neighbor. Which is to say that my bed was facing Rain's cell. I saw him in the dim lights that illuminated the corridor; he'd shifted into his human form.
My enhanced sight showed me all of Rain, and it was damn impressive. Every inch of him was solid, as if carved from stone. I couldn't see the exact color of his skin, but I could make out the tattoos that ran over his chest and halfway down his arms. Dralmarin tattoos. They declared his status as a warrior and the House he was affiliated with. Beautiful, detailed images of beasts with Dralmarin symbols running between. They led my eyes downward, over the hard ripple of his abs to where his hand held a thick, heavy shaft.
“Fuck, woman, your eyes are amazing. Especially when they're looking at me,” Rain growled.
My stare shot to his face. His wide but stunning face. High cheekbones showcased a pair of exotic, almond-shaped eyes framed by thick, dark brows. A long nose led down to a pair of lips neither too full nor too thin. Rain licked them as he watched me and turned his head, his square jaw catching the light.
My skin had gone tight and hot. My fingers stroked my sex without prompting as my gaze fixed on Rain. My free hand went to my breast and squeezed myself through my blouse. Rain groaned and bared his teeth. He licked his hand with a long tongue and set to stroking himself roughly. I let out a soft moan, rubbing myself faster. The slick sounds of our efforts seemed overly loud in the quiet cell block. Then I mentally shook myself.
What the hell was I doing? I needed to think of Cyprian, not masturbate to the Dralmar next door. Okay, he was hot, and I wasn't dead. I had my moment to appreciate his appeal, and he had his inspiration, but now I needed to focus on contacting my Ruar. I closed my eyes and blocked out the sight and sound of Rain, concentrating instead on my beautiful Faulin husband. I was so aroused that the connection sprang instantly in place and my mind bloomed with an image of Cyprian. He was awake, sitting on a couch with my other kishanos and the members of F.E.A.R., arguing and gesturing wildly. Then he went still.
I saw Cyprian's mouth move as his gaze found mine, even though I wasn't really there. I think he said my name. That was one of the biggest problems with this type of connection—no sound. Maybe we needed to learn sign language; it was one of the few languages I didn't know.
I watched my kishanos speak, looking eager and anxious. Finally Cyprian scrambled for a pen and paper and headed into another room. Malik followed him. Cyprian tossed the pen and pad of paper on a bed, then opened the fly of his jeans. He was speaking to Mal with a smirking expression on his face. I assumed that he was telling Malik exactly what he'd see if he stayed. But Cyprian didn't waste any time convincing Mal to leave, as soon as his shaft was out, he focused on me and started to stroke himself.
The image of my Ruar became clearer and his emotions bombarded me—love and fear being the most dominant. I moaned as his phantom hand touched me, sliding over my body. A growl came from nearby, but I ignored it, writhing for my husband alone. I could see Cyprian lying on a bed, working his beautiful cock, but also feel him sliding it inside me. Feel him moving above me languorously. Like an artist, Cyprian began to paint me in pleasure; his teeth nipped my neck and his fingers gently pinched my nipple. Rain was probably getting an eyeful since Cyprian's mental ministrations would manipulate my physical body as much as mine would move his. But I pushed that thought away. This was too important.
Cyprian wrote on the paper, “Malik can't find you.”
I reached for the pen, even as pleasure tingled through me. As I writhed, I wrote down everything I'd learned—how long we'd flown, in approximately what direction, what the island looked like, how the prison was protected by some kind of barrier that prevented them from finding me and me from twisting, that it was Magnus Bishop who put me in this prison, that it was a supe prison full of dangerous supernaturals, and all the security details Rain had given me. It took a while to write it all down, during which Cyprian gave me two glorious orgasms. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning, and my handwriting got shaky, but I was finally able to finish.
As soon as I did, Malik—who had stood there and watched—tore the top sheet off the pad and rushed out of the room. Then Cyprian turned me onto my hands and knees and slammed into me from behind. I buried my face in my pillow and moaned into it as he bucked wildly. A deep, male groan joined mine—a sound of male completion. I refused to open my eyes and lose focus on my husband. Cyprian was slamming into me so hard that my bed squeaked, my body jerking with every shove of his hips. I didn't have to touch myself now, his mental stimulation was more than enough. And then his hands clenched on my hips, even as I watched him continue to stroke himself in a room far away. His mouth opened on a cry that I wished I could hear, and he came across his belly.
I quickly scribbled “I love you,” before our connection faded. Cyprian, panting, mouthed the words back to me. Then he was gone. A dream lover vanishing in an instant. I crumpled onto my side and let out a ragged breath. I'd just made love to my husband and hadn't removed a lick of clothing to do it; it was the strangest feeling.
“Fuck,” a ragged whisper drew my attention.
Rain was leaning against the bars, his cock spent and his chest moving with his heavy pants. His eyes glowed blue in the shadows. With a shudder, he shifted back to his feline form, fur sprouting as his head and body thickened. His lips pulled back as he scented the air and then nodded.
