Chapter 20
Cat
Before I could pretend to still be asleep, Tor glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze. His flashed, a little madness in those beautiful brown eyes.
I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “I didn’t mean to watch.”
“That’s not what I asked, beautiful,” Tor replied, not looking away from me even as he made Miz gasp and shudder.
A deep, violent throb moved through me, the hypnotic sight of his fingers disappearing inside Miz making me crave the feeling, too.
And Tor watched me as if he knew, as if that need was written all over my face, as if he could sense it.
“Yes,” I breathed, not daring to move from my place on the ground lest this whole moment collapse. “Let him come.”
Miz arched, his back a beautiful curve. “Thank you. Oh fuck, thank you. Please—please touch me.”
Tor raised an eyebrow at me, confident and smug and in total control. It sent a shiver through me that only intensified when he told me, “He’s not talking to me, little bride.”
My heart jumped. Hurled itself straight into my rib cage. Misery wanted me to touch him?
“Please,” he groaned. “Cat, please. I’m going to die.”
Tor snorted, his attention returning to the writhing man in the grass. “So dramatic. And need I remind you of all the times you refused to let Cat come until she was so tortured she couldn’t take any more?”
Misery only whined, but the words seized all my attention. Miz had done that with me? Teased and tortured? My body heated, pulsed, tightened, and I could almost feel it. Before I could second guess myself, I pushed off the ground and crawled towards them, towards my husbands.
“We’ve done this before,” I guessed, glancing up to meet Tor’s hungry stare. “The three of us, together.”
“Many times,” he confirmed, hooking me closer with a possessive hand to my waist and kissing me before I could speak again.
It was a kiss that slipped under my skin, reached every sensitive part of me, and set them on fire.
By the time he drew back, only allowing a few millimetres between us, I was panting and dizzy.
Then he kissed me again, and again, until I was drowning in him, until all my doubts and objections were replaced by fiery need.
“This is cruel,” Miz complained, so breathy and petulant that I smiled against Tor’s mouth, and he kissed me harder, tasting the shape of my smile.
I grasped the rumpled collar of his shirt to drag him closer, ravenous for the taste of him, for how good it felt to kiss and be kissed by him. “Tor, can I—”
“No,” Tor growled against my lips, dragging his teeth over my bottom lip, scoring it with the sharp tips until I arched against him.
“Please,” Miz whined.
Tor dragged his mouth down my jaw, panting breaths teasing my skin, and I arched my neck to give him better access. My heavy-lidded stare fell on Miz, luminous in the hazy moonlight, flushed and needy.
“So beautiful,” I sighed before I could reel the words back in, and Miz’s eyes fluttered shut, pain tightening the lines of his face. A different pain than carnal need, I realised when his throat bobbed, teeth raking the plush shape of his bottom lip. “Can I kiss you, too?”
“Fuck, Cat, always,” he groaned, his eyes opening and finding me instantaneously, as if he was so attuned to me he could find me even in this midnight murk.
His eyes were liquid gold, and my heart squeezed when they dripped tears over his cheeks.
I scrambled for something comforting to say, something the past version of me might have said, but there was nothing as powerful as arching over his bare body and gracing his mouth with a slow, tender kiss.
“You were gone,” he rasped, the words seemingly hooked from deep within him, hoarse and ragged at the edges. Words thrown about so often inside him that the edges were scuffed, broken. “You were dead.”
“I know,” I breathed, tracing my fingertips over the sharp line of his cheek, his jaw, his mouth that pressed thin as if to ward off a calamitous tremble. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” he said, husky, thick. “You have nothing to apologise for. You were torn from us against your will. You never chose to leave us. And I swear to you, I will rip that monster into pieces. We,” he amended before I could even part my lips, “will rip him into pieces. Bludgeon him to death. Brand his crimes into his skin. Bury him alive. I don’t care what method you choose, my universe, I am there with you. I’m right there with you.”
My hand cupped to fit the curve of his cheek, so natural and familiar that I knew I’d done it a hundred times.
This conversation, this vow, was so similar to earlier in the valley but right now my head was clear, and possessive violence didn’t roar within me.
Instead I saw it for what it was: grief distilled into vengeance, and love so pure it would never rest until I was safe.
So I brought my mouth to his, the sharp lines of Miz’s body meeting the cushioned softness of mine as I settled my weight over him, stealing a deeper taste and groaning with a dark thrill when his cock jolted between us.
It was weeping, dark with flushed need, and I drew my mouth from Misery’s only so I could watch his expression the moment I wrapped my hand around his length and stroked.
His head fell back into the grass, his graceful neck arched, eyes wide on the sky above.
“I like the idea of branding him with his crimes,” I said in a bedroom-soft voice probably not suited for such gruesome plans.
“We can do it together. All of us,” I added, turning my face to catch Tor’s stare and finding naked emotion in his light brown eyes. It cut into my heart, making the cello string I’d first felt in that blank place vibrate to life. It hummed, louder than ever. Trust your bonds.
I stroked my thumb over the head of Miz’s cock and a whine strangled in his throat. I looked from him to Tor and said, “I was listening. Earlier. You uh, you said you’d give him your cock.”
Tor’s reply was guttural. Quiet. “Yes. You wanna watch me fuck him senseless, beautiful?”
Every time he called me that—beautiful—it soaked my soul in warmth. I could almost feel his arms around me, his embrace tight and passionate, even though he knelt a few paces away, watching my hand on Miz’s cock.
“Could you—” My nerve faltered, but I reminded myself I was a god, I was Judgement herself, and I could be brave. “Could you fuck him like this?” I whispered. “With me on top, touching him?”
“Oh, fuck yes,” Miz groaned, his eyes screwed shut, breath sawing from his lungs. “Tor, get the fuck in me right now.”
Tor just smiled, slow and devious. “I can do that.” His hands found my shoulders as he moved behind me, sending a cold rush of prickles down my spine.
His hands seemed to know their exact path, and followed them down the arch of my back to fan over my hips, fingers digging deep.
Imprinting the feeling of their grip on my skin, my muscles, my soul, until I’d never forget it.
I gasped when Tor’s mouth brushed the sensitive shell of my ear. “You take those pants off and I could fuck your pretty pussy like this, too.”
His words were a match thrown in a barrel of fuel, and every line of my body tightened, a frantic throb within me.
“I don’t remember when we—everything’s new for me,” I blurted, fixing my eyes on the sensual line of Miz’s throat as I tightened my grip, squeezing his base before I stroked all the way up, fisted the tip, and back down again.
“I’ll go slow, be gentle,” Tor promised. “Or I can just fuck Miz while you sit astride him. Whatever you want is what I want, too.”
“I want everything,” Miz said in a voice rough with need. “Please. Please just—”
I twisted my hand, swirling my grip, and a possessive thrill expanded through my chest when his back arched off the ground. I loved him. Loved having him at my mercy. I wanted him gasping and squirming and pleading. I wanted him to beg.
“Oh fuck, oh god, don’t look at me like that,” he moaned.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I leaned over him again, stealing a deep and thorough kiss. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
“Every last breath, every beat of my heart, everything I’m made of belongs to you.”
A smile tugged at my lips as I kissed him again. “You sound like that disguised version of you that was obsessed with me.”
“Was?” Miz’s hands sank into my hair, holding me captive for a possessive kiss. “I never stopped being obsessed with you, Cat. Not for a second. I am completely, unapologetically fixated. Consumed. Enthralled. Maniacal.”
“At least you’re self aware,” Tor laughed, grazing his hands down my hips to clasp Miz’s legs, making space for himself between them. “Are you ready for me?”
“I was ready a fucking hour ago,” Miz hissed.
“It’s been ten minutes,” Tor drawled, sweeping my hair away from my neck to lay a kiss against my pulse at the same time he did something that made Miz gasp. “Misery. Breathe.”
Miz whined, so soft and needy that it tugged at my heart.
I kissed the arch of his cheekbone, then the other, feathering kisses over each closed eyelid before the beautiful ink decorating his body called to me.
It was done in delicate linework, so graceful that it clearly belonged on his body.
One by one, I kissed each mark and understood, a hum of magic in each tattoo whispering to me.
This was the story of Misery, every miserable moment he’d lived or inflicted on others, every major pain that tortured him, haunted him, given physical form.
“Fuck,” Tor grunted, his face resting against my back. “Miz, you feel insane. So fucking good for me.”
The words made Miz tremble, made his hands shoot out, one grasping my hip, the other grabbing Tor’s bicep. “I can’t take much more.”
I bit my lip, his words scorching through my blood until my hips shifted against his, unconsciously seeking friction on my hard clit.
I should have known Tor would miss nothing.
As he moved slowly in Miz, his hand came to rest on the soft pants I’d borrowed earlier, lingering on the waistband in a clear question.