Chapter 41 #4
He pulls back, his silver eyes staring straight into mine.
Through me to my soul. “Oh Angel, that’s where you’re wrong.
I know exactly how badly you want this, because you and I are linked now.
And I can feel everything about you. Not think.
Not know.” He rolls his hips once more and it sends Quinn deeper into me, pulling a groan from both mine and Quinn’s lips.
“Feel, Evangeline. Because you’re bound to me.
Your needs, your desires, are my responsibility now. ”
Sterling runs his hand down the length of my body until he’s at my waist, my hip, and laying his hand atop Quinn’s. “And I will live every day with no other purpose but fulfilling your every need.”
With that, he lifts his hips off the bed, plunging himself into me fully and pushing me back against Quinn.
“Fuck, Sterling,” Quinn bites out through a clenched jaw, and he abandons all semblance of control as he also bottoms out against me. He pulls the rope tight with one hand, using his other to hold me steady as he fucks into me.
“Right back at ya,” Sterling seethes, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I can feel you inside her, Quinn. And dammit, you are making her so fucking tight.” He punctuates his words with the thrust of his hips and I cry out from the sheer pleasure pulsing through me.
It takes a moment but we somehow begin moving in sync, Sterling’s strides met by Quinn’s eager bucks.
I’m trapped between them, bound by rope and blood and completely helpless as they fuck into me in a ravenous rhythm.
I’m breathless, lost, drowning in a sea of lust. I think briefly that this is all I want to live for.
To please them, to be used by them, to never escape whatever this is.
Quinn pulls me up by the rope he still has wound tight in his hand and suspends me in the air for Sterling, who wastes no time picking up on Quinn’s offer, digging his fingers into my ribs as he brings the swell of my breasts to his mouth.
He bites down on my left nipple, sucking when I squeal, then moves over to my right and does the same.
“Gods above,” I grit out between shaky breaths, incapable of holding back the pleasure rolling through me.
Sterling bites down once more and the sensations overcome me, leaving me breathless as I fall apart between these males.
Quinn isn’t far behind as he runs his fingers over his handiwork, gripping hard at the knots that bind my wrists to give him leverage as he pounds into me.
Sterling chases Quinn’s release with his own, a loud grunt reverberating through the room as the three of us fall into one another atop the silk sheets.
I’m trapped between the two males, our legs tangled in this complicated web we’ve woven.
We are nothing more than a breathless, sweaty mess.
My eyes flutter as I cling to consciousness, utterly and perfectly worn out.
“That wasn’t the gods above, Angel.” Quinn snickers to my left, panting between words. “That was the power of the Blood Order.” He reaches forward, smacking my ass. I use the tiny bit of leeway I have between the rope to elbow him in the ribs, sending him into a fit of gasps and coughs.
Sterling brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes and rewards me with a smile. “You are amazing, Angel. You took us both so well.” I lean into his touch, cuddling up against the palm of his hand on my cheek.
“He’s right,” Quinn adds with a smooth drawl.
He scoots in closer, wrapping an arm around my chest and toying with my nipple.
“You’ve impressed me. You took way more than I thought you’d be able to handle.
” I smile, leaning into his touch as he nips playfully at my ear.
“Which means I’ll just have to go harder on you next time. ”
I whip around, ready to mouth off to the impossible oaf, but a slow clapping starts up from the far side of the room, cutting me off.
I freeze, having completely forgotten Aamon was here, watching all of this take place.
Quinn pulls me back as Sterling rests against the headboard and makes room for me to lean easily against the two males so that I have a clear view of Aamon.
He’s still clapping as he rises from his throne and makes his way through the shadows of the red room, only stopping once he’s at the foot of the bed.
“Well done, indeed,” he praises. Silence falls over the three of us as we watch and wait for Aamon to make his move.
He folds his arms over his chest, mask still in place, then cocks his head to the side.
The sight of him is something akin to a nightmare, with his sunken, hollow eyes and the elongated fangs of his bone mask.
And all I can think in this moment is I hope we put on a good enough show for him. That he's satisfied.
He smirks, as if he can read my thoughts, reaching a hand out to lean against the frame of the four-poster bed.
The muscles in his arm flex against the ink on his skin as he takes in the sight of the three of us—discarded, spent, exhausted.
He leans in, lowering his voice to a feral growl. “Now the real fun can begin.”