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Lyrica. A smutty-as-fuck rockstar fantasy romance that’s been sold out across all three realms for months.
Yet my Darling Nightmare found a copy.
Versus seeing a smutty scene coming to life before her eyes.
It’s amusing enough to encourage me to say something while secretly hoping the vibes I get from her are on point.
She’s not like every other student here whose sole purpose is to prove they’re powerful enough to be here.
“Now, Princess. You can’t possibly be kissing a book and being completely unaware of your surroundings.”
My voice is surprisingly tame, even though I’m managing to keep my pace while I fuck Orpheus nice and deep. I hate not to give him my full attention, but this is the one instance where I’ll multitask for the sake of whatever is brewing with this new student.
Miss Ophelia, the little Viper of Orpheus and the Darling Nightmare of mine.
When her eyes lock on us, I watch all the emotions wash over her expression. Her shocking surprise morphs into hints of excitement while those wide green eyes of hers take us in from head to toe. She can’t hide the flickers of lust that dance in those mesmerizing spheres of hers while those flushed cheeks are now bright red, making her look as though she gets beet red with a hint of alcohol in her system.
Her jaw ends up dropping as it sinks with every second she’s just caught two professors of N.M.U. fucking at the hidden backend of the library.
And it’s not even the official first day of classes.
Her stillness is one thing, but I can’t help but let my guard down further, the sounds of Orpheus’s moans and grunts reaching her ears from how her eyes widened at that moment.
I catch the way her legs press together, as if not to release a whiff of her arousal that would confirm this sight before she does the opposite in frightening her. The nips of her breasts can’t hide the truth because they’re pressing against the silk material of her blouse, confirming our Darling Nightmare isn’t wearing a bra beneath that blouse.
Our… I’m already claiming her. A dangerous woman to have in our vicinity.
This should be the moment where the alarms go flashing red in my mind, and I take advantage of her stilled shock to knock her out, but I can’t seem to bring myself to it.
I want her to see this.
To acknowledge what I am to Orpheus and what he is to me.
We complement one another, and if there’s ever a possibility of her joining the picture, that doesn’t mean just one of us.
It means the both of us.
A package deal.
It sounds preposterous in my mind, especially when I’m looking at a woman who’s surely five years younger than me—ten years younger when it comes to Orpheus—but this magnetic pull between us is far too strong to ignore.
Which is why I’m risking it all.
To be accepted by her in some way that doesn’t get us reported to Headmaster Atlas.
“What shall my little Nightmare do, hmm?” I question with a panting breath. “Stay? Make a fuss? Leave and never come back?”
As though she’s not red enough, those rosy cheeks grow redder by the second as she tries to comprehend my question.
I have to observe every movement and expression she makes, even though I’m on autopilot and fucking Orpheus to keep building the pace of our orgasms. I know it won’t be much longer for either of us, but I want to enjoy watching this woman admire every bit of our unity until we come undone.
Let her watch me fill Orpheus’ ass with my release.
“Dammit, Daemon. Not so rough,” Orpheus seethes and arches his back. “Fuck… you can’t… keep going.”
Oh, but I can.
I have to because I need this Darling Nightmare to witness the grand finale before deciding whether she’ll walk out of here remembering this confrontation or not.
