Chapter 26 Embers of the Crown #4
“Yes,” I begged, shameless, cock twitching in my soaked underwear, need carving me open.
Viktor’s hand snaked down, fingers slipping beneath the waistband, wrapping around my cock, stroking me through the slick. Dom pressed in from behind, mouth against my neck, his breath scorching, hands guiding me to press back, to grind against the thick line of his cock.
Both of them pressed their bodies to mine, skin against skin, underwear the only barrier, sweat and spit slicking the heat between us.
Viktor’s mouth found mine again, tongue invading, tasting himself and Dom on my lips.
He broke away only long enough to spit in my mouth again, filthy and hungry, before pulling my jaw up, forcing me to swallow it.
Dom’s voice rumbled in my ear, deep and low. “Can feel how hard you are. Soaked for us. Bet if we pulled these off you’d come just from the air.”
A hard slap landed over my cock, the sting cutting through the haze, making me gasp. Another, this time from Viktor, both men grinning down at the way I shuddered, the way my hips bucked, the way I begged without words for more, for everything.
Their hands roamed, squeezing, pinching, teasing, making every inch of my body burn. Dom’s teeth found my shoulder, biting hard enough to mark, Viktor’s mouth trailing down my throat, nipping, sucking bruises that would last for days.
Fingers slipped beneath the waistband, teasing the edge, threatening to strip me bare, but never quite doing it, prolonging the agony, drawing out the moment until I was a mess of sweat and need, underwear clinging to every swollen line, every tremble.
“Beg for it,” Viktor commanded, his voice a growl, hand fisting in my hair as he forced me to meet his gaze. “Tell us how much you want it. Tell us what you’ll do for more.”
My lips parted, spit and sweat and desperation mixing on my tongue. “Anything. Please—just let me be yours.”
Dom’s laugh was dark and delighted. “Already are, pretty boy. But we’ll take it anyway.”
Their mouths claimed mine, one after the other, spitting and sharing breath, keeping me dizzy, drunk on them, hands everywhere—gripping, squeezing, holding me in place, owning every inch. My cock ached, underwear tight, soaked with precome, every inch of skin throbbing for more.
Viktor moved first, slipping off the bed to kneel at the edge, eyes gone stormy with hunger.
He dragged his palms down my thighs, kneading every muscle, spreading me wide for Dom, for himself, for anyone to see.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear, slow and deliberate, tugging them down over my hips, past my cock, letting the elastic snap against my thighs before finally peeling the fabric away.
The wet cotton clung, stuck, then peeled free with a delicious, filthy sound, exposing me—hard, leaking, twitching under his gaze.
Dom’s hands never stopped moving, strong arms anchoring me back against his chest, thumbs rolling my nipples until they were raw, aching, sending bolts of pleasure shooting straight to my cock.
His mouth found my shoulder, biting, sucking, humming with approval at every gasp and whimper.
His cock pressed hot and heavy against the curve of my ass, only a thin barrier left, his hips rolling in slow, obscene circles.
Viktor held my thighs wide, thumbs pressing bruises into the soft skin near my knees, his face so close I could feel his breath ghosting over my bare cock, over my balls, the cool rush making me shudder.
He didn’t move at first, just stared—devouring me with his eyes, worshipping every line, every pulse, every drop.
One hand cupped my balls, rolling them with practiced care, while the other slid up the inside of my thigh, nails scraping gently, teasing, keeping me right on the edge.
The next moment, Viktor buried his nose in the crease of my thigh, inhaling deep, tongue darting out to taste the sweat, the slick, the raw proof of how badly I wanted this.
His eyes fluttered shut, a growl vibrating in his chest as he nuzzled in, licking a stripe from the base of my cock to the tip, tasting everything, savoring me like he’d starved for this.
His breath went hot against the head, lips parted, tongue flicking over the slit to gather the slick beading there, moaning his approval.
Dom’s hands slid down, fingers stroking over my stomach, mapping the fluttering muscles, then dipping lower, teasing the bare skin just above my hole. His other hand slipped between my legs, spreading me even wider, opening me for Viktor’s hungry gaze.
“You’re shaking,” Dom whispered, voice a low rumble in my ear. “Can’t even sit still for us, can you? Want it so bad, want to be ruined by both of us.”
My answer came out as a broken moan, hips rocking forward into Viktor’s mouth, then grinding back into Dom’s cock, desperate for more, for everything.
Viktor wrapped his lips around the head, tongue swirling, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing as he took me deeper, working me slow, deliberate, making sure I felt every inch.
His other hand pressed my thighs wider, holding me open for Dom, for the room, for anyone who might come in and see how wrecked I was, how owned.
Dom’s fingers found my hole, circling, teasing, rubbing slow, maddening circles over the sensitive skin, spit slicking his touch, the pressure building until I thought I’d lose my mind.
He pressed in, just the tip of a finger, twisting, pulling out, rubbing again, never giving enough, never letting me drop.
Viktor moaned around my cock, the vibration sending a jolt straight through me, mouth working me, tongue pressing under the head, sucking every drop of precome, his eyes locked to mine, daring me to fall apart.
Dom bit my neck, his tongue licking the mark, his voice a filthy growl. “You want my fingers in you? Want me to open you up while Viktor ruins your cock? Say it, pretty thing.”
My hips jerked, pleasure and shame crashing through me in waves. “Yes, fuck, please, Dom, want it—want you both, want to be fucked, want to be used—”
“Greedy,” Dom taunted, but his voice was thick with approval. He spat on my hole, thumb circling, then pushed a finger in, slow, relentless, filling me just enough to make my cock twitch harder in Viktor’s mouth.
Viktor took me deeper, swallowing around me, his nose buried in my curls, tongue pressing flat against the underside as he pulled back, lips dragging over the head, then plunging down again, faster, wetter, hungrier. His hands squeezed my thighs, holding me open, holding me still.
Dom slipped another finger in, scissoring, stretching, his mouth pressed hot to my ear. “Feel that? Feel how you open for us? You were made for this, Sebastian. Made to be filled and fucked and ruined by us.”
My breath broke, every muscle shaking, sweat running down my spine, body caught between them—Viktor worshipping my cock, Dom owning my ass, both of them working me, breaking me, making me theirs.
Viktor pulled off with a wet pop, spit and slick dripping down my cock, his mouth red, swollen, messy with need.
He looked up, eyes wild, and dragged his tongue over my balls, sucking one into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, humming in pleasure as Dom’s fingers twisted deeper, pressing against my sweet spot until my vision blurred, tears stinging my eyes.
Viktor’s mouth left my balls, spit glistening on my skin, his lips dragging up the length of my cock, tongue swirling over the head.
His breath came hot and ragged, pride and hunger tangled in every sound he made.
Dom’s fingers worked deeper, stretching my hole wider, slick with spit and precome, each movement slow and deliberate—forcing me to feel every inch, every invasion, every ache of submission.
Dom’s tongue pressed to my ear, voice dark and coaxing. “Listen to you—panting for us, begging to be used. You want more, don’t you? Want to be split open and fed on. Want to choke on Viktor’s cock while I fist you wide.”
My head dropped back on Dom’s shoulder, vision blurring at the thought, the want, the filthy promise. “Yes. Fuck, yes. Anything, everything—please, just don’t stop.”
Viktor’s mouth swallowed me whole, lips sealing around the head, tongue lapping up the slick that leaked out, every suck a claim, every moan a command. One hand pressed to my hip, holding me down, the other circling the base, squeezing, milking, not letting me pull away.
Dom’s fingers curled, pressing against my spot, making my hips jerk, his free hand sliding up to my throat, holding me still as he fucked me slow, relentless, thumb brushing my jaw, smearing spit across my lips. “Open,” Dom commanded, his voice pure dominance.
My mouth parted, tongue out, desperate for whatever he’d give. Dom gathered spit in his mouth and let it drip onto my tongue, then pressed two slick fingers between my lips, making me suck, moan, choke on the taste of myself and him and Viktor, every swallow another surrender.
Viktor watched, eyes dark, mouth swollen, his breath ghosting over my cock. “You like that, don’t you, prince? Like us making a mess of you. You’d beg for more if you had any breath left.”
A shudder ran through me, heat and shame burning in my cheeks, my chest, my cock. Dom pushed his fingers deeper, making me gag, then pulled them out, slapping my cheek, leaving my mouth hanging open, drooling for them.
Viktor’s lips returned to my shaft, tongue laving the veins, mouth working me slow, drawing the filthiest sounds from my throat. My hands clawed at the sheets, legs spread wide, every muscle shaking as Dom’s fingers spread me, scissoring, stretching, pushing the limits of what I could take.
“Relax,” Dom whispered, his lips hot against my ear. “Let it happen. You’re made for this. We’ll take care of you. We’ll break you down and put you back together, just the way you want.”