The Darkest Wolves: A Reverse Harem Series (The Secrets of Shifters Book 1) by A.K. Koonce

Author:A.K. Koonce [Koonce, A.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Ten

That Panty Intuition

The voices I hear when I step into what Avian calls the Formal Torture Room, are more mellow than I had expected from a place called the Formal Torture Room. Screaming? I suppose I expected a little screaming. Maybe some crying. A bit of begging added for dramatic flair.

But no, they really missed the mark when they originally titled this space.

“I’m not telling you what to do, Rome. I’m just suggesting, maybe from here on out, you don’t kiss the Prince’s property,” Zilo explains in a therapeutic way.

When I enter from the hall, the two of them are seated in black chairs that appear to have dried blood staining them. An array of fancy cutting knives lies between them on a metallic tray. They’re unused, shining and clean. Ropes, chains, barbed wire and a weird collection of broom handles line the smooth walls.

“I appreciate that suggestion, my friend,” Roman taunts with a wide smile stretched across his perfect white teeth so hard that he looks manic, “but have you thought about maybe not grinding your cock against the Prince’s property as well?”

A big fist slams down on the table between them, rattling the tempting knives briefly before Zilo catches his temper. He pushes back his long black hair, and that’s when I notice he’s wearing thin black frames.

Glasses. He’s actually wearing glasses. And talking like a therapist…

What fucking realm of hell have I fallen into this morning?

“I did not grind my cock into her—it was—it was a misunderstanding,” he says on a calming but shaking exhale.

Avian arches a brow at me, but I ignore the little knowing bastard’s look and continue to watch quietly from the door.

“So I won’t kiss her, and you won’t…accidently misunderstand where your cock belongs?” Roman tilts his head to the side and waits smugly for his friend’s response.

Goddess, they’re insufferable to one another.

“Exactly.” Zilo nods over and over again. So much so that it’s a hypnotic repetition like he’s trying to cast a spell to make the words real.

I can practically picture the carousel of chanting now:

I won’t use my cock for good deeds. I won’t use my cock for good deeds. I won’t use my cock for good deeds.

I can’t take it anymore.

They’re exhausting.

“All settled then?” I ask in the most announcing voice I possess.

Zilo jolts in his chair while Roman simply passes his gaze my way. They both stare hard at me for so long that it’s difficult not to shift beneath their warm attention.

“I thought you were entertaining the Prince this morning,” Zilo asks with more anger than I’ve heard in his tone since I walked into this so called Formal Torture Room.

“No…” I hang on the confusion of his question, and it only seems to crease his smooth bronze skin with a look of panic.

“Fuck.”

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