Chapter 82
EIGHTY-TWO
Deimos drops us into a steaming hot spring in the middle of Iceland.
We break the surface, sputtering, laughing—blood and ash sliding off in ribbons that cloud the water black.
Our laughter doesn’t last. Clothes are torn away, ripped as much as discarded, and the spring hisses against raw skin.
We scrub each other like sinners desperate to wash the battlefield off, but the memory clings like tar.
Reverent touches. Rough ones too. None of us are gentle.
Cassiel is the first to find words, his voice ragged from smoke and fire. “Temptress… you were so fucking beautiful. Harnessing our powers as though they were your own.”
“I fear I need more practice,” she murmurs, eyes heavy, shoulders slack with exhaustion. “I am… empty.”
Deimos’s mouth curls into something hard. “Good thing we’re here to feed you,” he says—too sharp, too clipped, his voice a blade.
Then he seizes her. She squeals, thrashing, but he doesn’t release her.
He drags her from the water, drops her to the stone shore like prey delivered to the altar.
She lands on her knees, wet hair plastered to her back, her breath torn from her chest. Before she can rise, he wrenches her hips back and rams his cock into her in one savage thrust. No warning. No mercy.
The sound she makes—half moan, half scream—is fucking music, raw enough to snap every nerve in my body. My cock jerks painfully as Cassiel and I follow onto the shore.
“You are going to be fed, Lustling,” Deimos snarls. His fist knots in her hair, dragging her head back until her throat arches. His voice drips with rage and possession. “But you’re going to fucking beg for it. Because you left us.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasps, the word broken on a moan, her arms trembling as she braces against the stone.
I crouch before her, cock thick and heavy in my hand. Deimos stills behind her, buried to the root, his chest rising like a storm about to break. “What was that?” he demands, voice a razor drawn across skin.
“I’m sorry! Please, Deimos!”
Her eyes flick to me, pleading. I only shake my head. My fingers grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. I claim her mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing her desperation, tasting ash and salt and flame.
“You could have been killed, Lillien,” Cassiel growls beside me, stroking his cock with punishing slowness, his eyes like sharpened steel.
“I wasn’t, though.”
Deimos’s hand cracks across her ass, the sound like a whip splitting the night. She jolts, cries out, then laughs—reckless, wicked laughter spilling from her lips as if she wants to provoke him further. And I’m sure she does.
That’s all the permission I need. With a groan, I shove my cock between her lips, her mouth stretching to take me. Her tongue coils, teasing, and when she moans, the vibrations ripple straight through me. “Fuck.”
Deimos begins to move, pounding into her, each thrust jolting her body forward on my cock. She chokes and moans around me, and she doesn’t resist. She takes us both—raw, merciless, every brutal inch. She wants it. Needs it.
Cassiel joins us, kneeling close. His hands roam her slick skin, caressing her neck, pinching her nipples until she cries out, cupping her breasts like they’re his to worship.
My fist tightens in her hair, dragging her throat open wider as I drive deeper, gagging her on my cock, using her until my balls tighten.
Heat floods me and I spill into her throat, groaning as she swallows it all, greedy, desperate for more. I rip away before she can drain me further. She glares, wild-eyed, but Deimos shoves into her mouth next, forcing her gaze up to him. She smiles even through the ache, arrogance bright as fire.
“Please, Deimos…” she whispers when he lets her breathe.
“Please Deimos what, Lustling?”
Before she can answer, Cassiel thrusts into her from behind, hard, fast, merciless. She screams, body bowing. “Fuck! I want to come, please—”
“I don’t know if you deserve it,” Deimos taunts, his grin sharp enough to cut.
Her groan shudders through me, muffled when Cassiel forces his cock into her again. I slide in behind him, press against his tight heat until he grits his teeth, resisting, then gives way. He shudders, relaxes, and I push deep with a groan, every inch sheathed in his body.
And then we find it. That rhythm. Four bodies, one hunger.
Lillien split between Deimos and Cassiel, me buried inside Cassiel. It’s savage, obscene—groans, grunts, skin slapping, wet gasps, greedy gulps. Reverence twisted into punishment.
She flares her power, Deimos’s rage driving it higher—our veins ignite, our senses sharpen until the pleasure is unbearable, until the bonds between us snap taut. She whines, desperate, dragging us all with her.
The four of us tumble together, undone in one brutal crescendo. Cum and sweat spill across skin, teeth clash, nails dig, snarls and cries split the night.
We collapse, spent, bodies heavy. The spring swallows us again, steam rising, water closing over fevered skin.
Sated. For now.