Page 51 of Wicked Chains
Soren grins wickedly, and whispers in my ear, “You think we’re done? Not even close, witch.” He grabs me, lifts me up like I weigh nothing, and tosses me belly-down onto the bed, then he drags me up on all fours. I hear him behind me, and it makes my pussy clench.
He spreads my thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh at the top of my legs, and lines himself up behind me. There’s a second where I feel nothing but anticipation, and then he pushes inside, hard, deep, no hesitation, just the thick stretch of his cock filling me up from behind, gliding in easily with how wet I am. I gasp, pushing back onto him, because it’s perfect, exactly what I wanted, maybe more than I wanted, and he knows it.
“That’s it,” he says, voice a little wrecked. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect. So fucking greedy for it, Rose. Don’t stop, give it to me.”
The demon is right. I don’t stop. I can’t. All I want is more, more pressure, more stretch, more friction, more hands gripping and holding me in place as I fuck myself back onto him, my body moving on instinct and pure need. His cock fills me so deep my vision goes white at the edges.
My body is on fire, but then I feel an icy chill, like a winter wind blowing through the room.
My eyes fly open.
Drake.
He’s standing by the bed, just a little more than a shadow at first.
For a second I panic. He’s going to be pissed, I think. I’m not even sure why, it’s not like we’re exclusive, he’s a ghost, and I’m not. Still, I feel a flood of guilt.
Soren notices the change before he sees Drake. He tenses, hands locking down on my waist.
I look at Drake, trying to figure out if he’s about to storm out or attack Soren or what. He doesn’t do either. Instead, he moves his face close to mine.
His thumb brushes my cheek, gentle as anything.
Drake’s eyes flick to Soren. Then he grips my chin, and turns my face fully toward his mouth and kisses me, gently at first, then harder, as if he needs to remind me, and himself, that I’m his, too.
I open for him, letting him take.
Drake pulls back, gaze locked on mine, searching for any sign of no.
Soren’s still inside me, but now I’m hyperaware of both of them, of what could happen next. There’s a look in Drake’s eyes, a question he’s not asking out loud.
I turn my head just enough to see Soren’s face. He’s smirking, but there’s a dare in it. “Well?” he asks. “You up for it, Rose?”
I’m not even sure what “it” is, but something primal in me answers, “Yes.”
Drake’s mouth splits in a crooked smile, and I feel a little jolt of adrenaline.
He stands, unfastens his buttons on the fly of his trousers, and lets the thick, perfect length of his cock spring forward.
Drake steps forward, guiding my head with his hand, and brings himself to my lips.
I open for him, and his hand strokes my face. Soren is fire and smoke, all wild energy. Drake is ice and snow, cool and deep and endlessly patient. He slides into my mouth, slow at first, then deeper, fingers threading into my hair.
“Christ,” Soren says, sounding breathless. “You’re going to kill me.”
With Soren fucking me from behind, and Drake in my mouth, I am completely full, overwhelmed in the best way. Every sense is on high alert, every nerve ending tuned to the two of them and the way they move me, use me, adore me.
Soren leans forward, hand fisting in my hair next to Drake’s, and for a second their fingers overlap, tangling together. Soren leans in, mouth at my ear. “You look so fucking good like this. Who knew you were such a greedy little witch?”
Drake groans, the sound vibrating through my jaw. “She’s perfect,” he says, and my heart flip flops.
They set a rhythm, both working me, alternating in and out, the push-pull making me dizzy with pleasure.
I come again, moan around Drake, choking a little as he hits the back of my throat. He shudders, but doesn’t come, just pulls out and strokes my hair while Soren slams into me harder, using me like he’s trying to fuck me through to the next room.
“Are you close?” Soren growls.
“Yes,” I whimper, desperate.
