Page 88 of Poison Ivy
My body trembles uncontrollably as they continue to use me, pleasure and overstimulation blurring together into an overwhelming haze. I’m vaguely aware that I’m babbling and begging, but I’m not sure if I’m asking them to stop or keep going.
“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Bram growls, his fingers still pumping inside me relentlessly.
“Such a good little princess,” Tate murmurs, pinching and tugging at my nipples. “Taking everything we give you.”
Torin’s fangs graze my inner thigh. “One more, little killer. I know you have it in you.”
I whimper, shaking my head. “I can’t... it’s too much...”
“Yes, you can,” Bram states. “Come for us, Ivy. Show us how greedy that pussy is.”
His thumb presses hard against my clit as Torin sinks his fangs into my inner thigh. The sharp pain and the pleasure finally pushes me over the edge. I scream as the most intense orgasm yet crashes over me, my vision going white as my body convulses violently.
When I come back to myself, I’m trembling and gasping for breath. The magical bonds have disappeared, and strong arms are cradling me gently.
“Shh, we’ve got you,” Tate murmurs, stroking my hair soothingly.
I manage to open my eyes, blinking groggily at the three men surrounding me.
“You okay, little mouse?” Bram asks softly, his hand caressing my cheek.
I try to speak, but my throat is raw from screaming. I settle for a weak nod instead.
“You were incredible,” Torin murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. “So perfect for us.”
Tate’s arms tighten around me. “Let’s get you cleaned up and hydrated.”
Before I can protest, he scoops me up and carries me to the bathroom. The others follow. With his warlock magick, he fills the large tub with warm water and fragrant bath oils.
Tate lowers me gently into the water.
I lean back, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water soothes my aching muscles.
“Drink,” Bram murmurs, holding a glass of water to my lips that has magickly appeared. I obey gratefully, gulping down the cool liquid.
As they tend to me, murmuring praise and endearments, I feel a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the bathwater. This is more than just mind-blowing sex. There’s a tenderness, a connection I never expected from the Kings of Thornfield who treated Poison so roughly. It makes me doubt this is real. But when I look up at Tate, kneeling next to the bath, leaning his chin on his arms on the side, watching me with love in his gaze, the doubt melts away.
“We need to talk about what we’re going to do,” I mutter.
“Not yet. Get cleaned up and sleep on it. We can talk about it in the morning,” Torin replies.
I nod and close my eyes as Tate starts to wash me down. My limbs are limp, and I can’t help at all, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Soon, I’m cleaned up and carried back to the bed in a warm, fluffy towel. Tate whisks the damp covers off with a flick of his wrist and lies me down, drying me off before throwing clean blankets over me.
He kisses my forehead. “Rest now, princess. We won’t be far.”
I drift in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of the men moving around the room. Their quiet voices and gentle touches soothe me as I hover on the edge of sleep.
At some point, I feel the bed dip as they join me. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against a warm chest. I burrow into the embrace instinctively, feeling safe and protected.
“Sleep, little mouse,” Bram murmurs, his breath tickling my ear. “We’ve got you.”
I want to stay awake, to bask in this intimacy, but exhaustion pulls me under. My last conscious thought is how right this feels, surrounded by my Kings.
I wake to a dark, crushing pain on my chest. My eyes snap open, and I’m lost in an abyss of nothingness. The air is stagnant, mouldy and hard to take into my lungs. I sit up, wondering what the fuck has happened to me. Last I remember, I was in Tate’s bed.
“Miss Hammond.”
