Chapter 34
I’m hanging on Aamon’s every word, sinking into the feeling of his fingers inside me.
I want every bit of him that he'll willingly give me. I didn’t know how bad I wanted it.
Needed it. But now that we’ve crossed that line, I’m frantically chasing all of him.
The taste of him, of us, dances across my tongue. I feel drunk off the sensation.
Aamon’s head whips up suddenly and I croon my neck backwards against the bed to follow his gaze.
Quinn's here, standing in the doorway.
My vision swims at the angle and I have to close my eyes for a moment to keep the room from spinning. Fuck, maybe I am drunk.
“What in the seven hells is this?” he asks, staring down at us.
“It was about to be round two, before you rudely interrupted.” There’s a challenge in Aamon’s reply, and the boys exchange a look.
“No, fuck that,” Quinn growls. And I’m about to respond—to say I’m okay and he doesn’t need to worry about me. That I want this. But then he’s stepping into the room and kicking the door closed behind him. “Not without me.”
He tosses something onto the dresser. A bag of blood?
Then he steps up to the other edge of the bed, pulling his white T-shirt over his head and unbuckling his jeans.
I let my gaze fall back to Aamon, who's watching both me and Quinn with a wild look in his eye.
Then, slowly, a wicked grin creeps across his lips.
Fear tingles at the base of my spine—the kind that brings a smile to your lips, the kind you’re tempted to chase after to see what it’s all about. The kind that could ruin you, if you’re not careful.
“Open that mouth again, Angel,” Aamon orders.
And slowly, I comply, leaning back towards Quinn as he frees himself from the restriction of his jeans.
He leans over me, teasing my lips with the tip of his long, hard cock.
My mouth waters on reflex and I dart my tongue out, running it over his underside.
“Fucking hells,” Quinn breathes. His head lobs back at the feel of my tongue teasing him. “Have you taken her mouth yet, Aamon?”
“No,” he growls, and I hear the promised intent missing from his answer. Not yet. I grin, staring at him across the bed.
“Hey now,” Quinn chides. He reaches down, wrapping my hair around his hand and tugging roughly so my face is tipped back towards him. “Don’t get distracted. He doesn’t get all of your attention. Not anymore.”
I smirk, opening my mouth to work him deeper in response.
I gasp when I feel Aamon’s fingers return to my core, dancing skillfully over my clit, in rhythm with my movements against Quinn.
I moan against him, pulling a growl from his chest, as I marvel at the way our bodies work in harmony.
It’s effortless, the three of us together.
Quinn leans over, grabbing the pillow at the head of the bed and throwing it towards Aamon. He catches it easily, sliding a hand under my ass and lifting me just enough to place the pillow beneath me.
“Gotta take care of those hips,” Quinn explains, winking down at me.
I let my mouth pop off of him to argue that I don’t need taking care of, but Aamon is suddenly teasing my entrance with his cock and my eyes find him again, completely naked at the edge of the bed and settling between my knees with vicious intensity.
My hands instinctually fly to Quinn’s thighs behind me and I sink my fingers against him as Aamon presses into me, holding on for dear life as his hips rock slowly forward.
He’s so large, it takes a moment for me to get used to him—a moment he doesn’t actually give me before picking up a steady rhythm. “Aamon,” I shudder. I bite down on my lip, letting him pump into me several times before I have the wherewithal to return to my duties against Quinn’s cock.
With every inch Aamon sinks into me, the deeper I take Quinn.
“Don’t come yet,” Aamon orders. And I don’t know if he’s talking to me or Quinn. But then Quinn steps back, the sudden absence of him in my mouth pulling a moan of protest from my lips. He drops to his knees beside the bed, cradling my head against his chest.
“Watch him,” Quinn says. I obey, opening my eyes to watch as Aamon moves steadily between my legs, like the changing of the tides.
Back and forth, in and out. As if nature itself has orchestrated the synchronicity of his movements.
One hand drops to my clit while the other wraps behind my ass and pulls me further into him.
I let my head fall back against Quinn. “Beautiful, isn’t he?
” Quinn whispers in my ear. “Both of you are. Together, like this? I’ve thought about it nearly every day since we found you out on the outskirts of the city. ”
“You’ve told me,” I remind him through raspy breaths. “In the red rooms, remember?”
He tsks, lowering his head to the hollow of my neck and kissing softly. “I told you I’d touched myself to the taste of you. I didn’t mention anything about Aamon.” He lifts his head again, winking at Aamon and then snaking a hand over my chest.
I gasp when he slips his hand inside my bra and clamps down on the peak of my breast, rolling his thumb over my nipple. The sensation goes straight to my clit, which is already throbbing with need.
“Now, listen closely, Angel,” Quinn drawls in a saccharine voice.
“First, you’ll come for him.” He gestures to Aamon, who picks up his ferocity between my legs, winding me even tighter.
“Then, you’ll come for me.” His voice is positively dripping with desire and I cling to his promise as I barrel closer to my climax. “How does that sound?”
“I—” I gasp, trying to explain that I’m already so close, but it's too late. Whatever is winding tight inside me snaps all at once. I come apart between them, crying out as my hands find Quinn’s hair.
I thrust my hips deep against Aamon, making him bottom out.
He falls forward, coming with me and holding me tight as he buries his face in my hair, splayed out on the bed around me.
“My turn.” Quinn grins. I barely have time to come down from the high of my second orgasm before Quinn scoops me out from underneath Aamon. He switches positions with me, sitting on the edge of the now empty bed and settling me in his lap, facing me away from him.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but his hand finds my clit immediately and I grab onto his thighs as I try to steady myself from the shock quickly rolling through my body. It’s too much, I can’t take it. Not so soon after. But Quinn pushes on, stroking lazy circles at my center.
“I want him to watch us,” Quinn explains against the shell of my ear. He nods forward to Aamon, who has lowered himself into the chair beside the bed. There’s a decent bit of distance between us. Enough so that I can’t touch him.
“He likes to watch, you know that right, Angel? Our leader loves a show. Has he shared all of those deep dark desires with you yet?”
I shake my head, too enthralled by Aamon’s intent gaze piercing through me to talk. Those dark, heavy eyes pin me in place—so full of secrets and violence. And yet I want to crack him, want him to share it all with me, no matter how dark or vile his secrets may be.
His tall, muscular form is haphazardly draped against the small chair, bare-naked.
I take this moment to really look at the ink covering nearly every inch of his form, letting my eyes dance over the various images—snakes, birds, runes and gods know what else— flowing up his arms and legs, over his chest, and dipping low into the shadows of his lap.
“Well,” Quinn chuckles and I can feel his warm breath against the curve of my shoulder.
“We’ll have to educate you, then.” We’re moving again.
He leans back on the bed, nudging me to turn and face him now.
I do as he instructs and as I center myself over him, his hard, warm length presses against my core.
I want to moan, want to take all of him just as I took Aamon. But part of me worries what will happen once this night is over, the smallest bit of hesitation creeping in.
“Hey.” Quinn brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, cupping my jaw in his palm. “Do we need to take a break?” His thumb caresses my cheek. But the only thing that feels worse than this night ending is it ending before I’ve been able to take both Aamon and Quinn.
“No,” I rush to say. “I just . . . this is so perfect. I don’t want it to end.”
“End?” Quinn quirks an eyebrow. “Angel, you’re stuck with us. Aamon explained it to you, right?” He cocks his head to the side to look past me, to Aamon. “Not just what you are now, but what it means? Being bloodbound?”
I nod, swallowing hard at the mention of blood. I drank so much from Aamon, and yet I’m somehow still famished. My eyes flick to the bag of blood Quinn brought in.
Quinn’s finger turns my chin back towards him. “Not yet, Angel. If you’re hungry, you drink from me. Understand?”
“Quinn,” Aamon warns from behind me. I look over my shoulder to find him. His face is hard, but he’s stroking his length lazily as he watches the interaction between me and Quinn play out.
“Enough, Aamon. If she’s bloodbound to you, then she's as good as bound to me, too. Might as well make it official.” He smiles up at me, a question lingering in his gaze.
I still don’t fully understand what it means—to be bound by blood.
But if it means agreeing to a lifetime between them, then I know it’s what I want.
This feeling, this power, whatever exists between us—I never want to give it up.
“Yes,” I whisper, watching in wonder as he brings his palm to his lips, just as Aamon had when he was between my thighs.
He bites against the flesh there, his canines sinking until they break flesh.
And he’s barely pulled his hand away from his mouth, barely even so much as offered it to me before I’m drinking from his palm.