Chapter Twenty-Seven

A Perfect Heat

 

Himself had lent Rhys some power so he’d be able to carry out his tasks before the battle. Maybe that transference allowed Rhys’s own mighty sexual power to peek out and allowed him to give us a taste.

Because there wasn’t a person in that room that didn’t shiver when Rhys turned it on. His voice, touch, and even the look in his eyes made me cold and hot at the same time. My stomach tightened, my mouth dried up, and I clenched my thighs against the heavy, throbbing need between my legs.

“You’re good,” I murmured.

He smiled. “I don’t mean to brag, but you have no idea.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

He turned me so my back pressed against the front of his body. “Sweetheart, you are not the only one.”

“Are you some kind of sex god or something?” Leo asked, then redness climbed his neck when we all looked at him.

“Something,” Rhys said, smiling.

Leo hurried toward the kitchen door. “I’m going to see to the…” But he couldn’t seem to find a word for what it was he was going to “see to.” He yanked open the door and hurried out into a night that was much less awkward for him than my kitchen.

“What did you mean,” I asked Rhys, “get me ready for them?”

He didn’t answer. He moved his hands over my breasts and my stomach, then grasped the hem of my shirt. Without a word, he ripped my shirt open, exposing me to my watching men.

My entire body tightened when he cupped my breasts and slid his thumbs over my stiffening nipples.

No one said a word as Rhys touched me, just watched with heat and hunger and an almost feral need. I shivered and let my head fall back against his shoulder.

“Isn’t this difficult for you?” I asked weakly. I didn’t want him to stop, difficult or not.

“Oh yes,” he answered. “But I am sick to death of being left out of the fun stuff.” His eyes darkened further as he gave me a hint of a sexy smile. “I can handle it. I’m feeling a little more controlled tonight.”

I started to answer, but he pinched my nipples hard enough to shock me, and I gasped instead. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier and thicker, and made it a little hard to breathe. It seemed alive, almost.

And my men watched.

That fact made me hotter.

Angus stood with his arms folded, eyes heavily lidded, expression stern. I couldn’t read his face, but the look in his eyes was dark and dangerous and fierce.

Rhys tugged at my short hair and when I tilted my head back to look at him, he wrapped his dark hand around my pale throat, and I had the vision of it in my mind.

Oh, that’s hot. So hot.

Then he lowered his full lips to mine. He stroked my tongue with his, his fingers still around my throat, then began to slip his other hand down my body.

He unzipped my jeans, then pushed his fingers into my underwear. One of his fingertips dipped inside, brushing my clit, and the touch was like a zing of electricity.

I cried out into his mouth and heard Shane mutter fuck, gravelly and rough, like he was angry, like he was raging, like he was ready to beat the hell out of someone. But I knew him, and I knew how his voice sounded when he was turned on. Shane didn’t want to fight. He wanted to fuck.

I inhaled Rhys’s scent and his fingers tightened around my throat, holding the air in, causing me to throb painfully against his searching fingers. He loosened his grip on my throat at the exact moment he slipped a finger into my wet heat. His finger felt hot, and cold, and teasing and almost enough, almost, but I needed something more, and I knew he was aware of exactly what he was doing as I teetered on the edge of a climax he was not ready to let me have.

He shoved another finger inside me.

I clenched my thighs, holding him in, then wrenched my mouth from his because I needed to breathe, needed to cry out, maybe so I could beg him to finish me, to give me more, to never stop…

To stop.

The intensity of his touch was too much. The feeling of his body against my back, his lips against my temple, his hand around my throat, his fingers between my legs. It was too much.

My body was bursting with a need I hadn’t felt before. My skin, wherever he touched, even where he didn’t, was too hot, too rough with gooseflesh, too sensitive. My orgasm was right there, but it was also far away. I could feel it. I couldn’t fall into it. Not with Rhys. Not yet.

Because even though he wasn’t doing more than touching me with lips and fingers, he was maybe a little too close to freeing whatever it was inside him. Whatever it was that needed to stay restrained until I was ready for it.

But Rhys was close to losing control.

I felt it. I felt him.

And I was not ready.

I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell anyone. I was caught in a place of pleasure too extreme to really care if it killed me.

Whatever Himself had lent Rhys was making it so Rhys could do what he was doing, but I knew as well as I knew anything that I wasn’t the only one it would hurt. It was going to escape him. He was going to lose control.

He ground his cock against my backside, fucking me with his fingers, and he knew. He knew.

“Angus,” he ground out, his breath hot like fire against my face. “Take her.”

I smelled smoke. It drifted into my nostrils, into my brain, through my veins, and formed into a hand that cupped my sex.

Then I was being ripped away from him. I felt him stumble away, and Angus was there, his fingers replacing Rhys’s, holding me against him as Shane, Clayton, and Amias caught me in a circle of lust, familiar lust that I could handle. Familiar lust that would send me over the edge but wouldn’t kick my ass into oblivion.

They lay me down and crawled over me, and there wasn’t a place on my body they didn’t touch, kiss, lick, or bruise.

I wasn’t the only one who’d been nearly consumed by Rhys’s overpowering sex.

Clayton kissed me, and it was the kiss of a hunter, a freed hunter, and then Shane’s lips were there, his tongue tangled with ours, his fingers laced with Clayton’s as they ran them over my body.

Amias flashed his fangs, his eyes black, his fingertips pressing against the ghost wound on my thigh, making me climax with the memory of it. He bit the side of my neck, and as he pulled my blood into his mouth, it was one of the greatest pleasures I’d ever felt.

And Angus. Oh, my werebull.

I wrapped my fingers around his huge, hard cock, crying out at the perfect heat of it in my hand, wanting it inside me more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

“Angus,” I cried. “Please.”

Clayton stretched out between my legs and I closed my eyes in anticipation. My back bowed and I reflexively tightened my grip on Angus’s dick as I felt the first warm, wet strokes of my hunter’s tongue.

He held me open and slid his tongue inside me, sucked my clit into his mouth, nipped my flesh, made me come. Made me come hard.

I bucked so violently I nearly dislodged Shane’s mouth from my breast, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth so deeply that the pain mixed with the pleasure from the orgasm Clayton gave me and I came again, almost before the throbbing vibrations from the first orgasm ended.

Then Angus stood and yanked me off the floor, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, shuddering as he positioned his cock, probing my opening, and I squirmed eagerly, crying out as I sank onto his hardness.

Someone slipped his fingers between us and squeezed my clit, and Amias pressed his bare body against the back of me. He rubbed my asshole, then slid a finger inside, oily and slick, and I caught the subtle scent of olive oil.

“Trinity,” he whispered, questioning.

“Yes,” I hissed, as I moved in little circles on Angus’s cock. “Do it.”

I wrapped my arms around Angus’s neck and buried my mouth against his warm flesh as the vampire master began to slowly push his cock into my ass.

He grasped my hips, carefully teasing the tip of himself in, biting my shoulder blade when I tried to shove back against him.

Angus began to move, adding to the pleasure pain of Amias’s slow entry, going a little harder, a little deeper with each wet thrust. Shane pulled my head back and kissed me, dragging my hand to his dick, squeezing hard and running my closed fingers up and down his length. Clayton came to the other side and took my free hand, and I hung there, impaled by Angus and Amias, my hands caught by my hunters, filled up, pain becoming pleasure becoming pain, and I drowned in it.

Amias teased his way inside me, and both cocks thrust together, a rhythmic aching unfamiliar feeling I wasn’t sure of, until they made me climax.

Then those two cocks, almost rubbing against each other, splitting me, widening me, plunging into me…

There were no words, just feelings.

Just full body, mind blowing ecstasy.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

They both cried out and Amias came, his body jerking against me, and Angus, his teeth clenched, sweat slick on his face, held himself back.

When Amias pulled himself from me Angus lowered me once more to the floor, and then he thrust into me, hard, fast, deep, until once again I neared the edge. Sensing it, he pulled out, crawled to my face, and rubbed his hard, wet dick against my lips.

I opened up for him, and the very second he pushed his hardness into my mouth, Shane slid between my legs.

I sucked Angus, reaching up to squeeze his firm balls as he fucked my mouth, and still, he didn’t come.

Shane did, though, his fingers hard on my thighs, his voice a whispered moan, and then Clayton took his place.

I wasn’t sure I could come again.

But then, I did.

Clayton shoved his hands under my ass and tilted my pelvis, and fucked me so hard his body slammed against my clit, and I cried out around Angus’s cock as Clayton forced my climax from deep inside me, shocking me with its suddenness. Its viciousness.

“Now,” Angus said, from between clenched teeth. “Now I will come inside you.”

He took himself from my mouth, climbed once more between my legs, then flipped me to my belly. He slid his hands under my pelvis, yanked my ass into the air, and shoved himself inside me.

He’d wanted to be the first cock inside me, and the last. He got what he wanted. He slammed into me, holding me still, pounding into me like the alpha he was. And for that time, there was no dark Angus. There was only my Angus, and he fucked me like he might never fuck me again, and I screamed as he shattered me with his need, his lust, his love.

Afterward, we all lay in a tangled, sweaty, messy heap on the floor, and my men held me, and each other.

I’d found a perfect place, and I would have been happy to stay there forever.

But I couldn’t, because the rifters were coming.