Chapter 52
Chapter fifty-two
The air pressed down on her, heavy and bright.
Rynna slowly opened her eyes, forcing her gaze across the ring. Fenn crouched before her, the obsidian tips at his hands biting into the stone. Kaelith loomed at her back, heat radiating off his body like a second sun.
Blazing overhead, the actual sun was high and merciless. Midafternoon, judging by the angle of the shadows. They were trapped here for hours yet.
Her headache was gone. Just... gone. Burned off in the wake of sensation. Mouth dry, her pulse started to climb, too fast, too tight, as blood rushed in her ears and the last waves of orgasm faded through her limbs. She tilted her head back, eyes slitting against the sun's glare.
“You’re sure?” Her voice was thick with heat and the strain of want.
Fenn moved. One hand braced between her knees.
Then the other, as he crawled forward, inch by fucking inch, until his knees wedged between her thighs, pressing her open.
He cupped her face in both hands. The claws didn’t cut, but they pressed, piercing along the bend of her jaw, the line of her cheekbones. A controlled threat. A perfect tension.
He looked once over her shoulder at Kaelith, who was silent behind her. Then his attention locked on her again, silver eyes lit from within. The edges of them had darkened, shadows gathering like storm clouds just beneath the glow.
“How do you want us?” he growled as Kaelith’s tongue flicked past her ear, quick and teasing.
Her body jolted in response, sending a shiver shooting down her body. Tiny aftershocks rolled through her muscles, coaxed alive again by that single, wicked touch.
“Holy fuck.” Her mouth opened, then closed. Useless.
If she didn’t get her shit together, they’d take her apart without even trying.
And stars help her, she wanted it. Wanted them.
She wanted hands, wanted mouths biting across her skin.
Hips grinding into hers. Kaelith’s precision.
Fenn’s relentless weight. She wanted to feel them on her, over her, inside her. At the same time. Everywhere.
The thought came unbidden: This might be the only time…
No. She shoved it aside, refusing to let the coming grief steal even one second of this.
“You.” Her hand reached back, fingers diving into Kaelith’s hair and fisting tight. She tugged, yanking his face down until his chin met her shoulder.
“In the shade. By the gate. Before you burn.” She tilted her head, letting her lips touch his cheek as she smiled. “On your knees. It’s my turn to devour you.”
“As you wish.” Kaelith’s breath skimmed her neck.
Then he vanished—weight gone, heat gone, leaving a rush of displaced air and absence. Eyelashes fluttering, her lips parted, tasting him in the space he’d left behind.
Her gaze moved to Fenn, then, and she leaned in, dragging her nose up the center of his chest, inhaling deep—salt, sweat, something wild threaded beneath.
He smelled like fire and hunger and home.
Her hands found the sides of his face, guiding him down until their mouths hovered just short of contact.
“And you,” she whispered into him, voice rough, “are going to take me from behind.”
She bit his bottom lip, hard enough to break the skin, trembling at the tang of blood splashing over her tongue. Chasing the taste with her mouth, licking it clean, she murmured, “I want to feel all of you. I want you to leave marks.”
His only answer was a sound too primal to be human—a bottomless growl that vibrated straight through her core as she slid past him on her hands and knees.
Stone biting into her knees, she crawled toward Kaelith, swaying with each movement.
Behind her, Fenn followed, close enough for the warmth of him to seep into her skin.
Kaelith watched her approach, darkness clouding every jagged line of his face. He moved with a studied grace—thumbs sliding under the band of his pants, easing them down just enough. She watched the flex of his stomach as he stroked himself once, twice, jaw clenched.
“I love you.” She reached for him, one hand closing over his wrist, guiding him away from himself. “I think I always have.” Her other palm traced up the hard planes of his body, over the swell of his shoulder. “Even before I came to this world. Both of you.”
“Rynna…” Sunlight hit the points of his canines as his mouth parted.
She knelt before him, goosebumps prickling as claws trailed down the small of her back—Fenn’s possessive hands. A shudder passed through her, and she dropped forward again on all fours.
Kaelith's hand tangled in her hair, and she welcomed the pressure. Behind her, Fenn’s grip found her thighs, and the hot length of him slid between her legs, teasing but not yet pushing in.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” The words were a sigh.
Then a pause.
“You want the wolf?” He yanked her hips higher. “You’ll get him.”
Yes! She panted, canting her hips, chasing the friction in the back as Kaelith filled her mouth.
Stars! The taste of him alone nearly sent her over again. She eased back just enough to swirl her tongue around the broad, soft tip, gaze flicking up through her lashes to catch the strain in his jaw.
Then—
It looked like ink rising from his chest, two black serpents forming like smoke solidifying into scale.
Rynna’s eyes widened, and they moved, lifting off the skin, glistening, and alive.
Kaelith didn’t give her time to speak. He pushed forward, cock filling her again, silencing her as the world tilted—just as Fenn slid in from behind.
He eased into her with a tortuously slow, grinding pressure, each inch sending bliss spiraling through her belly. She swore he felt thicker—too much—but her body opened anyway, muscles stretching, wrapping around him, taking every inch.
“So fucking tight.” Fenn moaned something behind her. “You feel like you were made for this.”
Her knees dug into the stone.
Fuck. It was like drowning between them. She’d never breathe again.
Rough scales moved over her. One of the serpents coiled around her hip, sliding between her thighs with a wet, sinuous flick. The other moved higher, winding around her ribs, then her neck, tongue flicking just beneath her ear, teasing the underside of her chin.
“Empty night—” The words caught in her throat, crushed by the tightening grip of the serpent around her windpipe.
Fenn’s rhythm built behind her. His hands clamped on her thighs, nails breaking skin as he jerked her back into each thrust.
Harder. She didn’t say it aloud, just flung the word down the tether between them.
There was no yes in answer. Or no. Just a feral agreement in a dark rumbling growl and the next thrust crashing through her, filling her completely. Her head spun, vision blurring as the serpent at her throat flexed tighter with the same rhythm.
Air vanished. Time unraveled. And all she could think was more.
More. She cried to both of them.
And then she felt him there. Low, deep, in the back, where her body had always struggled to take him.
Another memory or fantasy. Kaelith, threading himself into her in a way that bypassed every limit they’d ever run up against. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t name how, but her body knew.
The stretch, the pressure, the throb—it was him.
Like he’d finally claimed a place that had been just out of reach. And stars, she felt it.
Next time, pet, his voice whispered inside her. I’ll have you here, too, like this…
They’d tried it before, back in the Hearth, pushing and exploring the limits of her body. But Kaelith had always been too much. No matter how gentle or patient, her body refused to take all of him there. Not like that.
But now? Now she swore she could feel him there, so deep, even if it was only in her mind. Even if it was some trick of connection or memory or Kaelith himself, weaving something gloriously filthy into her thoughts. He knew how to twist the limit of sensation until it tipped into belief.
I will have you here, he repeated with a flex of his hips, while the wolf takes his favorite place.
Her whole body tensed, heat blooming fast and ragged. She could feel them both, every inch of them, claiming space inside her, around her, through her. As the pressure built with terrifying speed, her muscles fluttered and clenched down in an instinctive, frantic cadence.
And Fenn—stars, Fenn—was growing inside her with each stroke, stretching her further, anchoring her in something brutal and beautiful. She could barely hold on, barely stay upright. Every thrust sent her crashing forward, throat full, body catching fire in too many places at once.
She wasn’t going to last.
She looked up, vision swimming, and met Kaelith’s eyes.
He was watching her—still, focused, devouring.
Her fingers curled into his thigh for balance, the taste of him thick on her tongue, the press of her lips slick and hungry.
Her head bobbed once, twice, dragging her mouth back and down in measured worship as her body shuddered around Fenn’s next push.
His tongue flicked out over his lips.
“Do you want to come, pet?” he whispered. Blink once for yes.
She couldn’t answer. Her throat worked uselessly, air shuddering around everything she couldn’t say. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing against the inevitable—feeling them both, feeling all of it, the ragged limit where her control was already unraveling.
Then she opened them.
She caught the curl of his mouth—just the barest hint of a smirk—before memory rose fast and unbidden. The cloth in his mouth. That first demand, barked across a stretcher, when she'd ordered him to show her the way to the Hearth or die.
Kaelith had been smirking then, too. But now his jaw went rigid, and the corded muscles winding over his stomach rippled before her.
Then the serpent at her hip moved.