All Chapters of Tempted By Him: A BL collection of romantic stories: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Silas's povThe doors swung open with a low, grinding sound that echoed through the throne hall. My wrists were bound in soft chains. The guards on either side of me kept their eyes forward, never looking at my face. I was the human tribute. The one chosen by the mountain villages to keep the peace with the dragon kings who ruled the peaks.I kept my head down at first, heart hammering so hard I was sure everyone could hear it. The air inside the hall was warm, something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When I finally lifted my gaze, the sight nearly knocked the breath out of me.Three thrones sat on a raised dais of black stone. Three dragons in human form occupied them, each more imposing than the last.The one in the center was the largest. Broad shoulders, dark red hair that fell past his collar and golden eyes. His presence alone felt like standing too close to a forge. That was King Varric, the Fire King. To his right sat a leaner, silver-haired man with pale

Silas’s povBy the time they decided I was open enough, my thighs were shaking and my hole felt soft, slick, and thoroughly prepared. Lysander withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving me empty and aching. Varric rose to his full height, golden eyes burning with satisfaction. Orin kissed the side of my neck one last time and stepped back.“Up,” Varric ordered, voice rough with hunger. “You’re ready for our thrones now.”I stood on unsteady legs, wrists still loosely bound in the golden chains. The three kings returned to their seats, Varric in the center, Lysander to his right, Orin to his left. They looked every bit the powerful dragon rulers they were, but their eyes were dark with lust and their cocks were hard and heavy between their legs, freed from their clothing.Varric crooked a finger at me. “Come here, Silas. Straddle me. I want you to ride my cock while you take care of my brothers with that pretty mouth and those hands.”My heart pounded as I climbed the steps of the dais. The

Silas's povThe private chambers behind the throne hall had been transformed. Heavy black curtains were drawn back from the high windows so that the late afternoon light poured in, turning the air gold and red. Braziers burned in the corners, filling the room with the scent of smoke and rare oils. In the center of the space stood a wide, low platform of dark stone covered in deep red silk. Three thrones had been brought in and arranged in a loose circle around it.I stood naked in the middle of that platform, wrists free for the first time since I had been presented. My body still carried the marks from the jealous, growling sessions of the night before, bruises shaped like fingerprints, faint bite marks, the lingering ache of being stretched and filled over and over. I should have felt exhausted. Instead I felt steady. Ready.Varric, Lysander, and Orin stood before me in their true power. Not fully shifted into dragons, there wasn’t space but close. Scales shimmered faintly along Var

I woke up to the sound of the lube bottle clicking open. Leo was already awake, sitting up against the headboard with the black storage bin dragged onto the bed beside him.He was naked, hair messy from sleep and last night’s activities, and he was examining the biggest dildo in the collection. It had to be close to ten inches, girthy as hell, with a slight curve and a heavy suction-cup base.He glanced over when he noticed me watching. A slow, filthy smile spread across his face.“Morning. You stayed.”“You told me to.” My voice was still rough from sleep. I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in my body from fucking him the night before. “Didn’t think you’d start without me.”“I was just planning.” He held the black toy up, turning it so the light caught the shiny surface. “You said you wanted to watch me take the bigger one. Figured we’d start there. Unless you’re too sore from last night.”I sat up, letting the sheet fall to my waist. My cock was already interested. “I’m not sore

Evan's povThe charity gala was exactly the kind of high-risk event Kane hated. Too many people. Too many cameras. Too many variables. I felt it in the way he moved, closer than usual, body angled to shield me from every angle, hand resting at the small of my back like a permanent brand. Every time a donor stepped in for a handshake, Kane’s fingers tightened just enough to remind me he was there. Every time a photographer’s flash went off, his shoulder shifted to block part of the frame. “You’re hovering again,” I murmured under my breath during a rare quiet moment near the edge of the ballroom. Kane’s voice came through the earpiece, low and rough. “I’m doing my job.” “Your job involves your hand on my waist like that?” A pause. Then, softer, “Yes.” That single word sent heat straight down my spine. By the time we finally left the venue, my skin felt too tight and my cock was half-hard from nothing but proximity and the constant, possessive way Kane touched me. The black SUV