Chapter 54 Jasmine
As I turn, my eyes land on his brother.
“Be good for us,” Ezekial whispers in my ear.
For a second, I think it’s another illusion, that he’s melding my mind again.
But then I meet Kane’s eyes.
That predatory gaze can’t be faked. It drags over me, between my legs, over my pounding chest, my flushed face—devouring every piece.
Kane prowls closer and Ezekial starts moving again. I fall back into him, the delicious ache between my legs somehow being soothed by every shallow thrust.
“She did so well, brother,” Ezekial murmurs against my cheek, like I’m not even there.
Which is somehow ridiculously hot.
I barely feel present. The aftershocks of my orgasm still ripple through me even as Ezekial brings me to another.
Kane steps closer, appraising me with those dark, dangerous eyes.
When his fingers reach out for my face, I tilt my cheek into his cold, addictive touch, peering up at him with hazy eyes. While his brother continues to fuck me.
“Open,” Kane commands, thumb brushing over my lips.
But I don’t. I stare at him, defiant.
Ezekial stops moving, holding me in his lap, still inside of me—pulsing, but not moving an inch.
I whimper, squirming, desperate for any movement.
“Open,” Kane repeats, and I know he hates repeating himself.
I don’t open.
Ezekial chuckles, it rumbles in his chest and along my spine. The soft movement is heaven while he withholds all other friction.
I remain resolute, staring up at Kane—refusing to give in.
But he doesn’t seem disappointed, not by the gleam in his dark eyes which appraise me. Not by the way his thumb tenderly swipes over my lower lip again, especially not by the slightest twitch of his mouth.
He likes my defiance. Wants it.
“Fuck her harder.” With those deadly, departing words, he steps back, and leans against the desk. “Don’t let her come.”
My gaze snaps to him a second before Ezekial’s shadows widen my legs, fingers grip my hair, and he fucks me just like his brother asked.
“Such… a… brat,” Ezekial grunts into my ear, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that knocks the air from my lungs.
He tugs me back by my hair, holding me right against his chest, while his other hand holds my hip, keeping me held just above him. Just enough leverage to make my calves burn as he fucks up into me.
I can’t move, can barely breathe, and he never stops.
My body begins to tremble. I can barely make out Kane from this position, my neck is craned back, tears filling my gaze, legs strained. But it doesn’t matter, because I can feel him.
His shadows slither up and along my burning calves, curling around my shaking thighs, helping to keep me still so his brother can fuck me harder.
I’ve tried so hard not to make a sound, but a whimper escapes at the cool caress that slides along my centre.
When it moves again, this time higher, over my pulsing clit in a delicate tease that promises so much—my whimper becomes a guttural moan.
“Fuck.” Ezekial’s vigorous pace slows, barely, just so he can murmur more clearly, “You’re punishing us both, ana mea.”
One slow, deep, plunge inside me, and he yanks me down hard.
I nearly fucking cry.
“You took that so well, barely made a sound.” Zeek’s fingers withdraw from my hair, and brush over my damp cheek. “You’re so close, so desperate to come, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer.
His fingers slip to my jaw, gripping me. “Just open that pretty mouth for my brother, and you can come.” He slowly pulls his cock out, lifts my hips, then slams back into me so forcefully I gasp—
Two fingers slip into my mouth. Kane’s.
I’m about to bite down when he murmurs, “You bite, you don’t come.”
Zeek’s grip tightens, pushing firmly between the joints of my jaw.
It isn’t painful, but I can’t concentrate on keeping it shut when he starts whispering in my ear, “Come on, open up for us. Be good, show us what a good immaru you are.”
Oh, fuck.
I’ve been doing so well. So fucking well.
My jaw loosens. “There you go, come on,” Zeek murmurs as he licks my neck. “Just a little more.”
Then Kane’s fingers press down on my tongue, and his shadow brushes over my clit slowly, continuously.
My mouth opens on a pleading whimper.
“That’s it, atta girl. Fuck, look at you, dripping all over me, mouth wide open for my brother—you’re a fucking dream.”
I don’t get to digest the praise because Ezekial starts unbuttoning my blouse, sliding his fingers over my breast, brushing my nipple with his thumb.
Kane’s fingers withdraw, but something soft yet so hard is placed against my lips instead.
My eyes flicker down to the tip of Kane’s cock.
I want it. So bad.
When I peer back up, I have no doubt my expression screams my desperation. Especially with the wicked glint in those dark eyes.
But fuck him if he thinks I’ll beg.
He slowly brushes his tip over my lower lip, just like he did with his thumb, before placing it into my open mouth.
Just so. Just the tip.
Letting me feel him, before he gently pushes in, sliding onto my tongue. My eyes start to close with the memory of how big he is, will I even be able to take—
“Look at me.”
I do.
I’ve lost all restraint.
All defiance.
I just want this—him—them.
I stare up into Kane’s dark, heated gaze. His cock not even half way in my mouth as he keeps going, pushing in gradually. At one point, I almost gag, and he stills.
“Breathe through your nose, immaru.” His order is strained, and seeing him losing his composure, even just a little, makes everything inside my tighten.
“Fuck me,” Ezekial groans into my hair, both hands back on my waist, stopping me from being able to squirm.
Our eyes never lose contact as I follow Kane’s command.
Breathing through my nose, he pushes in further, and further. When he finally hits the back of my throat—I swallow.
The low groan Kane releases has me pulsing around Ezekial’s cock.
“Brother… I can’t… I need to…” Ezekial’s murmured rambles just make it worse—or better—who fucking knows.
I feel myself getting wetter, feel everything tighten.
“You have no idea… how fucking tight and wet… fuck…” he mumbles, face in my hair.
“You’re going to hold me here.” Kane ignores his brother’s struggles, one hand wrapping around my throat. “While my brother fucks you. Do you understand?”
I can’t nod, I can’t really move—so I swallow, again.
Kane has to fight hard to keep his eyes open. I watch his jaw grit with pure determination, and that only makes me swallow once more.
“Remember your safe word,” Ezekial utters, as his grip on my waist tightens, lifting me just so, and then thrusting up into me as forcefully as he did before.
And he doesn’t stop.
Neither do Kane’s shadows, caressing every piece of skin they can touch. My thighs, my clit, my nipples, my throat, my face—everywhere.
Even with his cock in my throat, I can still produce some sounds, and soon, they won’t stop.
Gargled moans and strangled whimpers all fall out as Ezekial pounds up and into me relentlessly, and Kane’s grip holds my head as still as possible.
“You feel so fucking good. So hot and tight.” Zeek’s words are muffled against my throat, his tongue leaving heated trails as he licks and kisses me. “Ready to come again? With me inside you, my brother’s cock down your throat. So fucking full of us.”
“Look at me when you come.” Kane’s voice is unrestrained, filled with a dark hunger as it slinks into my mind.
Then he moves. Finally.
Pulling himself out of my mouth, onto my lips, just to slam back in.
And fuck.
It’s like I suddenly have a new g-spot at the back of my throat because I’m trembling everywhere.
“Look at how well you take my brother, such a good immaru, letting us use you. Letting a demon fuck your throat like that.”
Fucking hell.
I whimper at Ezekial’s sinful words as my eyes roll back into my head, and thankfully, Kane allows it, because I don’t think I can stop.
Especially not when the brothers start fucking me at the same speed, with the same intensity—thrust for thrust.
Building and building until—
“Come,” Kane’s order is just as deadly as Ezekial’s words.
I can’t hold back. Not even if I wanted to. That one word hits deep, everywhere, all at once, and I come with both brothers’ cocks inside me.
I swallow down Kane’s release without flinching, his thumb brushing my cheeks as he snarls out low moans. Both are still moving, giving me gentle, shallow pumps, ensuring I take every last bit of them.
“So fucking perfect,” Ezekial groans through his orgasm, every slow thrust drawing out my own climax. Until I’m a breathless, weightless thing held up between them.
And he’s right. This does feel pretty perfect.