And then lips are skimming along my collarbone again. A slight roughness of a beard grazes my flesh. At the back of mymind, I know it’s Rorrick, but I can’t process anything. He trails slow, open-mouthed kisses down my chest, and he slides down the soft fabric for more. Cool air pebbles my mounds. My breasts are covered by cold, calloused hands. He teases my nipples with the lightest touch... before the flat of his tongue circles there slowly. Those slow kisses trail just slightly higher...
And then a sharp pain punctures the curve of my breast.
My hips jerk, but firm hands spread me from behind, and he sucks me deeper into his mouth. My cries carry through the room that I can no longer see. I can’t see anything. But I can feeleverything.
The pulsing through my veins travels through every nerve in my body before diving down right to my clit. My thighs shake but a steady hand keeps me bent forward for him.
I come in bursting visions of lapping waves and the sound of my pounding heartbeat. It’s a spiral of emotions that collide through my body, and I find myself grinding down until his tongue flicks over the wound on my thigh, and he covers my pussy fully with the heat of his mouth. With a tear of fabric, the lace of my panties is ripped away, and the slickness of his tongue meets my wetness with demanding hunger. Big hands grip my ass, and he spreads me open even more for him as he devours me from behind.
My hips jerk but he pulls me back to him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Seven murmurs before rolling his tongue fully across my clit at the same time as sharp teeth sink deep into my breast all over again.
My gasp is lost in the intense, consuming pleasure that overtakes me.
Long fingers grasp my jaw, and my neck is jerked to the side. Christian’s name circles my thoughts in an obsessive, whispering tone.
Anticipation thrums through me.
I want him.
I want all of them.
But only rumbling words are breathed along my throat.
“If I took you, Pretty Pet, I’d never give you back.” Christian’s voice hums across my neck before he kisses there ever so lightly, sharp teeth scratching my flesh as gentle lips press sweetly. A gasp tears from my lips when Seven’s tongue slides over my clit once more, and he sucks so hard, I tremble uncontrollably in Rorrick’s arms. “I’ll watch them eat the sweetest parts of you, Pet. But I’ll never taste you.Never.”
And with that demented promise, I come all over again.
SEVENTEEN
Rorrick
Every timeI lick my lips, the memory of how she tasted has my fangs slipping back out. I swallow hard and try to calm the racing thoughts in my head.
But I can’t.
Boris will find my greedy mark on her fantastic fucking tits, and when he sees where Seven had her...
He’ll kill us.
And her.
My entire body is on high alert when Christian takes her hand and guides her patiently through the castle halls. Everywhere we look is a threat. Any one person could ruin us. We’ve royally fucked up, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. Not when the taste of her is still on my lips, my tongue. Not when her steps start to slow, exhaustion overcoming her until she wobbles on her heels.
“I’ve got ya,” I murmur, immediately lifting her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She immediately slumps closer, her lashes flickering as she tries to fight it. The wayher hand smooths over my shirt before slipping in between the buttons to touch my flesh makes some deep primal beast inside me roar.
I want her to look this peaceful forever.
I don’ want to see the fear in her eyes when she’s around the King. I don’t want the knowledge of her looming death in those green depths. I just want this: the lazy slight curl of her lips as her eyes slide shut, the look of a well-loved woman.
And we haven’t even fucked her yet.
Yet. As if we’re going to get the opportunity to do anything else. Our deaths are on the horizon. For fuck’s sake, mine’s been looming over my head since I was seven. I’m not afraid of it. I’ve never been afraid of it. But Crymson’s death? For the first time in too long, I know fear again.
“Don’t look so conflicted,” Christian commands as we trail through the castle toward his room. “She’s one woman.”
The coldness in his tone tells me he’s trying too hard. He’s a cold bastard alright, but I’d seen the longing in his gaze as we’d tasted her, as she’d shattered for us and begged him to join in. He may think he’s made of stone, but I can see his cracks.
