Chapter 41 Mina
Mina
Ziggy and Leander have me pinned between them, thrusting their lengths deep within me, the slick sounds of our mating echoing off the stone walls of the hot spring chamber.
The push and pull of them in my core is a tidal wave of sensations, like lightning striking repeatedly, each bolt more intense than the last. How they both fit amazes the hell out of me, the stretch bordering on pain but never quite crossing that threshold.
My back is pressed against Leander’s chest, his skin slick with sweat and steam from the springs, his heartbeat a frantic drumming I can feel through my spine.
My chest is against Ziggy’s, our skin sliding together with each movement, the friction creating a delicious heat between us.
I feel like every single nerve is set on fire, receptors overloaded with stimulation, sending sparks dancing along my limbs.
The constant friction and building of pressure is driving me insane, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of my spine like a spring ready to snap.
“Please...” I gasp out, holding onto Ziggy’s shoulders to keep myself balanced, my nails digging into his flesh, leaving crescent-shaped indents in his tanned skin. The taste of desperation is metallic on my tongue, mingling with the sulfuric tang of the hot springs.
“Not yet, beautiful...” Ziggy whispers against my lips, his breath hot and tasting of cinnamon, the stubble on his chin rasping against my sensitive skin.
His pupils are fully dilated, only a thin ring of malevolent green remaining, reflecting the dim lantern light like a predator’s eyes in darkness.
“When everyone has a chance, we need to figure out dinner...” Callan says, as he walks into the chamber, looking at the family day planner.
His voice, normally musical and controlled, echoes off the stone walls, breaking the rhythm of our movement momentarily.
He pauses when he finally realizes he walked in on something.
The planner slips from his suddenly limp fingers, landing on the stone floor with a dull thud that vibrates through the ground.
His eye goes wide like a saucer as he stares, his pupil expanding so rapidly it’s almost comical, the scent of his instant arousal filling the already heavy air.
“There’s room for one more,” Leander says before he smacks my ass, the sharp crack of palm against flesh reverberating through the chamber. The sting blooms across my skin, a counterpoint to the deeper pleasure building within.
Callan’s eyebrows shoot up and he strips as he heads to the little stand we have in here for just such occasions, his clothes landing in damp heaps on the stone floor.
The rustle of fabric and clink of his belt buckle punctuates the sound of heavy breathing and wet skin sliding against skin.
“Why didn’t anyone call me?” he asks as he jumps up and down on one foot, trying to get out of his slacks, his movements almost comical.
His normally graceful movements are clumsy with haste, betraying his eagerness.
“It was supposed to be just me and Mina,” Ziggy says as he and Leander adjust where they are and how they’re holding me, their muscles flexing beneath my fingers as they shift positions.
The movement sends a fresh wave of sensation through my core, making me bite my lip to stifle a moan, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the salt of sweat.
Ziggy pulls out for a moment, the sudden emptiness making me whimper, my inner walls clenching around Leander, seeking to reclaim the fullness from the two of them.
They turn me sideways so my thighs are pressed against them, the heat of their bodies scorching against my cooler skin.
Ziggy slides his cock along Leander’s in my pussy before they move again.
The dual sensation making my entire body tremble, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out across my skin despite the humid air.
Callan slips up behind me, his skin cooler than the others, not yet heated by the steam of the springs.
I feel him massaging my rosette, the slickness of lube on his fingers making the sensitive nerves there sing with anticipation.
His touch is gentle but insistent, the pressure slowly building as he loosens me up, each circular motion sending shivers up my spine.
Leander and Ziggy stop moving long enough for Callan to inch his way inside me, the burn of the stretch making my breath catch in my throat.
Every inch has me feeling like I’m over full, like I may explode, my body somehow accommodating all three of them despite the impossibility of it.
The pressure is intense, bordering on too much, yet still not enough.
The guys somehow get coordinated, finding a rhythm that builds and builds until I’m hovering on the precipice of something enormous.
I scream as my orgasm crashes over me. The sound tearing from my throat raw and primal, bouncing off the stone walls and echoing back to us.
My core pulses erratically as every nerve ending feels like it was set on fire, wave after wave of pleasure radiating outward from my center to the very tips of my fingers and toes.
My skin is so sensitive to their touch, even the brush of Ziggy’s hair against my collarbone feeling like the drag of silk across exposed nerves.
Every breath they take moves their chests against me, making me coil tighter again, building toward another peak before the first has fully subsided.
The scent of our mating—musk and salt and something deeper, more primal—mingles with the mineral aroma of the hot springs, creating an intoxicating perfume that fills my nostrils with each gasping breath.
Their hands grip me everywhere, leaving trails of heat in their wake, fingerprints of fire that mark me as theirs.
Through half-lidded eyes, I catch glimpses of their faces—Callan’s eye rolled back in ecstasy, Leander’s jaw clenched in concentration, Ziggy’s lips parted as he watches me come apart in their arms.
We lay in a tangle of limbs for who knows how long when Klauth and Balor find us.
It must have been several hours later, and I can’t move.
Muscles ache in all the best places, a delicious soreness that reminds me of the passionate frenzy we shared.
All three of my mates are asleep, their chests rising and falling in steady rhythm, and I’m using Ziggy as a pillow, his skin warm against my cheek, the faint thrum of his heart a soothing cadence beneath my ear.
Balor shakes his head, looking down at the four of us, his mouth quirking upward in one corner.
The scent of his amusement tinges the air like honey and spice.
“This is what I get for being the responsible one.” He smirks and waves his hand playfully in our direction, the movement disturbing the steam that still rises from the hot springs in lazy, ghostly tendrils.
Klauth crouches down close to us, his knees popping slightly, and smiles.
The heat radiating from his body is like standing near a furnace, warming my skin even from several feet away.
“Balor, it takes three of them to accomplish what either a single basilisk or a dragon can do. Let them have their time.” He smiles so sweetly, the expression transforming his usually severe features, then scoops me up out of the tangle of limbs.
His arms slide beneath me, strong and sure, lifting me as though I weigh nothing at all.
My arms circle around his neck as he carries me out of the hot spring room, my body still damp and leaving wet patches on his expensive shirt.
Looking over his shoulder, the guys are still right where I left them, their limbs sprawled in abandonment, skin flushed from exertion and the mineral heat.
I wonder when they may wake up and notice me gone.
Klauth carries me back to my room, his footsteps sure and steady despite the burden, and walks straight into the bathroom with me.
The cool air raises goosebumps along my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the humid heat of the springs.
He sits me down on the bench, the cold marble a shock against my bare thighs, and leans over to run water in the tub for my bath.
The rushing sound fills the tiled room, steam already beginning to rise from the hot water, carrying the faint scent of the lavender bath salts he’s added.
“You don’t have to run my bath,” I say, walking over and resting my hand on his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath the fine fabric of his shirt.
“I want to.” He lowers his eyes, thick lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, and I hear him exhale, the sound carrying a weight of emotion.
“We almost lost you.” When he looks up, the devastation in his eyes makes my chest ache, as though someone has reached in and squeezed my heart with an icy hand.
“I felt you when you pushed yourself too far.” His hand holds his chest as he looks at me as if his heart is going to come out of his body, knuckles white with tension.
“It felt like I was right there with you.” He lowers his head and draws in a deep breath that expands his chest, the scent of brimstone intensifying with his emotion.
“Just because you can do something doesn’t always mean that you should. ”