Page 192 of Unmarked
“You’re walking a very fine line,” he warns.
I smile, tilting my head like a challenge.
“Then catch me crossing it.”
He strokes himself, slow and theatrical, while Ash - still very much inside me - lets out a noise that might qualify as a warning, or maybe a sigh ofwhy is this my life.
“This is about balance,” he says, like he’s giving a lesson. “You gave them everything else, so I’ll take what’s left. And I’ll make sure you rememberexactlywhere it went
“Dibs on my mouth?” I deadpan. “Classy.”
But I part my lips anyway.
Because I want this too. I want all of it.
He slides in slowly - just the head, just enough to press past my open mouth and rest on my tongue.
Not deep. Not brutal.
Not yet.
But every inch is a message. A reminder.
“Don’t even fuckingthinkabout looking away.”
Like I could. I’m currently the human version of a traffic accident: stunned, pinned, overwhelmed, and full of opinions I don’t have time to voice because my mouth isveryfull.
Ash growls low. His knot pulses again, and I just stay there, frozen with one cock in my mouth, and another cock in my cunt.
God.This is going to besohard to explain to Lexi.
Lucian's hand cups my jaw, thumb under my chin as his other hand rests against my cheek, all possessive stillness andI run the worldenergy. Which would be easier to roll my eyes at if, you know, his cock weren’t currently pressed against the back of my throat like I’m the final level boss of a power struggle he intends to win.
He pushes forward another inch, until I feel the stretch at the corners of my mouth, the heat of his skin, the steady, punishing pressure of his cock against the back of my throat.
“You look like you were made for this,” he says, sounding way too pleased for someone who hasn’t even bought me dinner. “Big eyes. Pretty mouth. A little too curious for your own good.”
It’s the kind of thing that should make me furious. And maybe it would, if I weren’t also dripping wet, fully stuffed, and mentally screaming into the void like a broken fire alarm.
My tongue swirls around him involuntarily, because apparently I’m a disaster gremlin who likes her problems delivered in hot, angry alpha form.
Lucian's breath hitches. Just a little. One cracked pixel in his otherwise 4K intimidation screen. Which is honestly... gratifying.
He starts moving. Slowly. Shallowly.
Testing me like I’m a weapon he’s trying to figure out how to disarm or accidentally detonate.
Meanwhile, Ash’s knot is still locked in me like the world’s most aggressive plug. His hands are on my waist like he’s trying to hold onto sanity while someone else flosses my tonsils with entitlement.
“You hate this, don’t you?” Lucian murmurs to him. “All that control and nowhere to put it.”
He looks back down at me.
“But she doesn’t hate it. Do you, Rhea?”
I can’t answer. Not with my mouth full of his cock.
But I don’t need to. Not when my eyes speak for me.
