Jonathan relaxed in his cocoon of arms and legs. His men breathed deep, setting the perfect tone to lull Jonathan into dreamland, but his mind raced. Ever since they’d moved to New Orleans, Jonathan couldn’t shake the voice in the back of his mind, whispering they were close. They stood on the precipice of something huge. Jonathan just didn’t know what. To keep from going insane, he researched. He read every myth and lore about the area, and there was a lot. New Orleans was a hot bed of supernatural phenomena. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell what was truth and what business owners had created to sell bullshit items to tourists. Of course, Jonathan also couldn’t pretend he didn’t need to keep his mind busy for other reasons as well. Learning he was Celeste’s great-grandson was a huge pill to swallow. He hadn’t even known who Celeste was until days before learning of his ties to her. Now, here he was—a Nephilim. He’d had to Google that too.

Several times he’d wondered if his connection to Celeste was the reason he’d trusted the demon, Lire, for no other reason than his gut had told him to. As the seventh son of a seventh son, even an evil father couldn’t squelch the blessings of Lire’s birth. Plus, Lire had chosen Celeste’s side. He fought against his dark nature at every turn. That didn’t mean they’d seen Dougal once Lire had claimed the warrior as his. Once Dougal had traded his life for Jonathan’s, Lire had swept Dougal away. The guilt was massive.

“What are you doing?” Cin’s tired-sounding whisper pulled at the corners of Jonathan’s mouth. He couldn’t help but smile when his men were around.

“Research,” Jonathan whispered back. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What are you researching?” Cin’s hand slipped up Jonathan’s inner thigh as he asked the question, distracting Jonathan.

For a moment, Jonathan scrambled to recall their topic. “Um, the area, I guess. I’m looking at local lore and whatnot.”

Cin came up onto his elbow and eyed the screen of Jonathan’s laptop. “What do you want to know? I probably lived through most of it.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “Everything,” Jonathan answered honestly. “Do your people have their own set of history books? Because that would make my life so much easier.”

Cin scratched his chin. Damn, everything about the man from his soft hair to his blue eyes aroused Jonathan’s senses. “My people are your people too now, but yeah, we do. They’re kept safe by appointed guardians. The only set I’ve ever seen personally are back in Scotland. I imagine there is an American version, but this area hasn’t had a king since the early 1800s when its last one was burned alive by religious zealots. So I wouldn’t know who to ask about their whereabouts.”

Jonathan was fascinated. “There’s more than one king?”

Cin nodded. “Sure. Niall’s father rules Scotland, England, and Wales. The rest of the world is similarly divided. Canada, the US, and Mexico is another section carved off for one ruler. Being without a king has made this area a bit like the Wild West for supernatural beings.”

“I have so much to learn—”

“You should ask Faolan,” Niall said, cutting Jonathan off and proving he’d been awake and listening. “He’s a history buff.”

Jonathan switched his attention Niall’s way. His dark hair stood in every direction, looking like he’d been tossing and turning all night rather than sleeping soundly as he had. Jonathan’s palms itched to run his fingers through the man’s soft locks. “I’m sorry. No one’s getting any sleep because of me.”

Niall shifted onto his knees and snagged Jonathan’s laptop. After setting it aside, he forced Jonathan onto his back before scooching over until he had Jonathan squished between Cin and him. “Never apologize for giving me a reason to hold my sexy men, but you can’t keep staying up to sift through whatever it is you’re finding on the internet. You need sleep.”

“And more than half the stuff you find online isn’t true,” Cin said, adding his opinion on the matter.

“I—” A massive weight landed on Jonathan, cutting him off and forcing the air from his lungs. Unnatural light gray eyes focused on him from inches away. His men shouted. Jonathan didn’t have enough oxygen left to draw a big enough breath to protest.

“I’m calling in a favor.” Lire’s words were the only warning Jonathan got before the world spun so fast he couldn’t breathe. A sharp pain stabbed him in the brain. Everything went dark around the edges. For a moment, Jonathan wondered if his head would explode. As quickly as it happened, it was over. Jonathan stood in the center of an unfamiliar bedroom. Dougal was sprawled spread eagle across the top of a massive bed. He was nude. Jonathan wanted to look away, but there wasn’t much else to focus upon. He chose to hold Lire’s stare. The demon looked panicked. That fact stopped Jonathan’s protests over being abducted before they ever left his lips. “Help him.”

Jonathan’s gaze slid Dougal’s way once more. Against his will, he dropped his chin and focused on his own less than dressed state. Lire growled. A black pair of workout shorts appeared on Jonathan’s skin, hiding his nudity. Jonathan’s mind was a mess. He was having a hard time gripping reality. Only moments earlier, he’d been squashed between his men. Now, he was inside Lire’s lair with no clue how he’d come to be there. He cleared his throat, trying to come to terms.

“What’s wrong?”

Lire shoved him toward Dougal. “He’s been refusing to feed. I think he’s dying.”

The alarm in Lire’s voice got Jonathan moving. Without another thought, he scrambled onto the bed with Dougal. This man had traded his life for Jonathan’s. He couldn’t let Dougal down. The huge vamp’s skin was like ice to the touch. Jonathan patted his cheek, trying to wake him. A slice of dark blue eyes peeked out at him. Jonathan wasn’t sure if Dougal was lucid. His heartbeat was weak—like he was barely hanging on.

“Do you know who I am?” Jonathan asked, trying to get a grasp on how bad things were.

“My king,” Dougal whispered, sounding as if he’d been existing on a diet of nails since he’d disappeared with Lire.

“Close enough,” Jonathan said, lifting Dougal’s head and pressing the man’s face against the crook of his neck. “Take my blood.”

“Can’t,” Dougal whispered against Jonathan’s skin.

Terror choked Jonathan. He could feel Dougal slipping further away by the second. Jonathan dug deep for courage and hardened his voice. “I’m ordering you to take my blood.” He had no idea if Dougal would obey. Since mating with the prince, Jonathan hadn’t tried taking any sort of control of the clan. They were his friends, not his slaves.

Tell me where you are. Niall’s panicked demand rang out loudly inside Jonathan’s head as Dougal’s fangs pierced his vein.

I’m fine. It’s fine. Jonathan kept his thoughts calm for anyone listening. He knew Cin and Niall would hear, but he wasn’t sure if Dougal could hear his thoughts while taking his blood. Jonathan never drank from anyone other than his mates. He had no reference point here. Dougal needs me, but everything is okay.

I’ll fucking kill Lire. Niall’s thoughts weren’t reassuring Jonathan.

We owe him this. Jonathan hoped his reminder would calm Niall. Plus, I’m here for Dougal. I’ll explain later. Just breathe. Jonathan wasn’t sure if that last part had been for his mates or himself. He wasn’t used to having anyone’s mouth on his skin other than Niall’s and Cin’s. It wasn’t uncomfortable or sexual in the least. That part surprised him. Each and every time one of his men took his blood, it came with a happy ending. He was getting light-headed. Dougal was taking too much, but Jonathan didn’t know how to stop it without risking ripping open his throat by pushing Dougal away.

He gently pressed his hands against Dougal’s chest. “Don’t kill me, okay?” Jonathan whispered, hoping not to spook him. Dougal seemed a bit out of his head and Jonathan wasn’t sure what to expect. The huge vamp didn’t pull away right away. Jonathan swayed. Dougal jerked back, pressing into the bed as if trying to get as far away from Jonathan as possible. Jonathan tried moving away. It didn’t happen. Dougal’s chest came rushing up to meet him as Jonathan fell forward.

“Holy shit.” Jonathan tried breathing through his nose. His limbs felt heavy.

“Shit,” Lire spat, sounding more pissed off than Jonathan had ever heard him. He sought the demon with his gaze. Instead of finding Lire, Jonathan spotted a red-haired girl sitting on the end of the bed. He hadn’t noticed her before.

“Lire.” Even to his own ears, Jonathan’s voice sounded slurred and weak.

“I’m here,” Lire said, tugging at him and pulling Jonathan into a sitting position.

“Why do you have a girl sitting on your bed?”

“It’s a damn good thing I do,” Lire said instead of answering. “You need her blood.”

In spite of his weakened state and thirst, Jonathan winced. He hated the idea of sinking his fangs into anyone other than one of his mates. “No, thank you. Send me home and Niall or Cin will take care of me.”

Lire snapped his fingers, and the girl moved to the edge of the bed next to Jonathan. “Drink. You’re not going home just yet.”

Jonathan was so tired. He wanted to rage against Lire’s claim but didn’t have the energy. “Fuck,” he grumbled as he scooched closer to the woman who was there only in body. Even from the very first time he’d drunk anyone’s blood, Jonathan had never been disgusted over the matter. It had been Cin and Niall beneath his fangs. This was gross. He didn’t want to do it. Jonathan pushed the woman aside with the last of his strength. He fell backward, sprawling across Dougal’s chest again. “I need Niall.”

“Goddamn it,” Lire growled. “What the fuck is wrong with both of you? Even on the verge of death, you’re fucking picky. What sort of bullshit is that?”

Lire’s anger was evident. Despite his exhaustion, Jonathan’s interest was piqued. His clan had kept Lire prisoner for months and Jonathan hadn’t once seen Lire lose his temper. Now, Lire was furious. Jonathan could only watch with a detached sort of interest.

Lire glanced at his feet and put his hands on his hips before straightening again. With a snap of his fingers, the woman disappeared.

“Did you just kill an innocent woman?” Jonathan was hitting the loopy stage. He fought the urge to laugh even though it wasn’t funny.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lire said, not answering Jonathan’s question. “I’ll bring your blue-eyed beauty but not your prince.”

The chuckle he’d been suppressing sneaked out. “In spite of our unique relationship dynamics, Cin is the jealous one, and as much as he cares for his clansman, he won’t understand me being in bed with a naked Dougal.”

“Cin?”

Shit. Jonathan was out of his head. He hadn’t realized he’d been handing a demon his mates’ names. Names were power. “Never mind,” Jonathan grumbled. Jonathan closed his eyes and gathered his strength.

I need you. Follow my voice.

“What the fuck?” Lire said, jumping out of the way as Niall appeared at the edge of the bed. He eyed Niall. “How did you do that? This house is warded against vampires. You shouldn’t be able to breach my wards without me leading you inside.”

Niall didn’t bother sparing a glance for Lire. “I didn’t do it. Jonathan did.” Without a word, he climbed into the bed and offered his vein to Jonathan. An inner sigh of relief poured through Jonathan as Niall’s blood filled his mouth. He intentionally didn’t take enough to satisfy him. Jonathan wouldn’t weaken Niall. It was a true testament to how close he was to death that his body didn’t stir while drinking from his mate. The instant Jonathan was taken care of, Niall turned his fury on Lire. A silver knife appeared in his hand and against Lire’s throat too fast to anticipate it. “If you ever pull that shit again, putting my mate’s life in danger, I’ll—”

“What?” Lire said, interrupting Niall and taunting him. Jonathan didn’t like Lire’s tone or the direction things were headed. “Without me, your mate would be dead.”

“As much as I love watching alpha men swing their dicks around, I think I’m gonna pass out soon if I don’t get some more blood. I imagine Dougal would say the same if he wasn’t already out cold.”

Niall released a litany of curse words, impressing Jonathan. “Since I can’t zap you back home, the same way this douche zapped you here, I’ll give Dougal my blood.”

A loud growl—like an angry wolf’s—reverberated off the walls. It took Jonathan a second to realize the sound came from Lire. Lire bared his teeth at Niall. “You’ll not touch him.”

“Then take Jonathan home,” Niall said, not hesitating to go nose to nose with Lire no matter how enraged the demon seemed to be.

“No. He’s still needed.”

Jonathan was so tired. He wasn’t sure if he cared. After rolling to his side and cuddling up to Dougal, Jonathan let out a loud sigh. “It’s okay. Dougal’s so warm. I’ll sleep while you figure it out.” Jonathan rubbed his cheek against Dougal’s chest. Without warning, Dougal’s swirling emotions invaded Jonathan’s brain. He cringed against the sudden onslaught. “Oh no,” Jonathan cooed. “It’s so dark inside his head. This seems familiar. Where have I seen this before?” Jonathan asked more for himself than anyone. He pressed his ear to Dougal’s chest, listening to the vamp’s heartbeat. Jonathan hadn’t felt this drunk since the night he’d turned twenty-one and he’d almost died from alcohol poisoning. “Poor Lire,” Jonathan mused aloud. “You’re always breaking your toys.”

“I’ll get Cin,” Niall said, sounding almost sad. “Don’t close your thoughts to me, baby,” Niall added, reminding Jonathan he wouldn’t be able to return if he didn’t lead Niall back.

Jonathan nodded. His face squished against Dougal’s chest with each motion. When Niall disappeared, Jonathan reached for Lire’s hand. He’d done so without thought and was more than a little surprised when Lire accepted. Their palms met. Jonathan had forgotten how hot Lire’s touch was. He dragged Lire closer, ignoring the man’s closed features. The demon couldn’t hide anything from Jonathan.

Jonathan flattened Lire’s hand to Dougal’s chest and held it there. “If you love him as the warrior you first met, you’ll have to heal the damage you’ve done to his mind.”

Lire’s expression never changed. “I’m a demon. I love nothing.”

Since Jonathan was too tired to argue, and it didn’t matter if Lire admitted what Jonathan could see in his mind, he shrugged. “Heal him anyway.”

“My powers don’t work that way,” Lire argued, but he didn’t pull away.

A smile pulled at the corners of Jonathan’s mouth. “Sure they do, seventh son of a seventh son. You healed me when I was dying. It’s Dougal’s turn.”

Cin and Niall appeared at the edge of the bed. They both wore only jeans and looked so fucking delicious. Jonathan wondered how he’d been in bed with both men only minutes earlier and had been using his time for research. He wouldn’t make that mistake again once they got back home.

“Fuck me,” Cin growled as he pushed Lire out of the way and scrambled onto the bed. “Niall hadn’t been lying. You’re a fucked up mess, baby. You need to take my blood.” Jonathan tried sitting up, but nothing happened. Cin smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll come to you,” Cin said as he pulled Jonathan off Dougal before straddling his hips and leaning down so Jonathan could sink his fangs into his neck.

The instant Cin’s blood filled his mouth, Cin’s voice filled his head. Why are you in bed with a nude Dougal?

I was helping. Looks like I’m not finished yet.

A loud sigh rang through Jonathan’s mind and it wasn’t his. At least the beast clothed you before forcing you to give away all your blood.

He needs more. Niall and you will have to stock up. I have a feeling I’ll need you again tonight. Jonathan licked Cin’s neck, sealing the puncture marks with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. He loved the way Cin tasted. Plus, you’ll need your strength.

Evil man. “On it,” Cin said aloud before focusing on Niall. “We need to find somewhere else to feed. We need to stock up.” He switched his gaze to Lire. “The fact that you once saved my mate is the only reason I’m sparing your life. That, and you’re doing this for my clansman.”

“He wouldn’t be in this position if not for you, though,” Niall grumbled.

Jonathan was feeling stronger. His head didn’t spin as much. He rolled onto his knees and tried again to wake Dougal, but his words were for his mates. “Stop it. This isn’t helping anything. He could’ve let Dougal die.” Jonathan glanced over his shoulder. “Dougal did this to himself. Any other demon would’ve let him starve. Celeste trusts Lire and so do I.”

With a curse in a foreign language, Cin and Niall disappeared.

Dougal’s eyes finally peeked open. “My king,” Dougal said, sounding drowsy.

“Still close enough,” Jonathan said, trying to keep Dougal awake. “You need to take more of my blood.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Sheesh, you’re in rough shape,” Jonathan muttered. He held his wrist over Dougal’s mouth. “Take my blood, babe. Niall and Cin are getting more for me.” While holding his gaze, Dougal gently bit down on his wrist. Jonathan’s head spun. Dougal tried pulling away. With a pat on the man’s chest, Jonathan settled him back down. “Nope. Don’t worry over me. I’ll be fine. Take what you need.” The second Dougal licked the wound closed, Jonathan found himself using Dougal’s chest as his pillow once more. He felt like shit all the way to his bones. Still, he couldn’t give up on Lire. He held out his hand for Lire once more, half expecting Lire wouldn’t accept. To his surprise, the demon rushed to hold his hand again.

Jonathan flattened the man’s hand to Lire’s chest once more. “It’s easy,” Jonathan assured him. “However you healed me, heal your man the same way. Close your eyes, reach inside, and see his sickness. Then, take it away.” Jonathan moved over, giving Lire room to work. He was too tired to watch the show. Instead, he closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into the bed.

“I didn’t heal you. Celeste did.”

Jonathan wasn’t listening. His brain wouldn’t work right. Lire had a damn comfy mattress for a demon. Decadence in all things, he guessed. Damn, he was cold. Lire needed to turn up the heat if he expected Jonathan to give away all his blood. A soothing warmth overcame him—like the breeze coming off the ocean in the summertime. Jonathan smiled at the sensation. Even though he recognized he was out of his head, Jonathan still couldn’t pull it together. He was so tired.

“Ooh, thank you,” Jonathan cooed as the heat from the vent helped warm him a hair.

“Um, Jonathan. Your skin is glowing.”

Jonathan didn’t bother opening his eyes. “That’s a sweet thing to say.” It was too, since Jonathan had been nearly sucked dry by Dougal. He probably looked a pale mess with panda eyes. Lire should be complimenting him, though, since Jonathan had been saving his man. The funny thing was, he didn’t feel like he was low on blood—just cold and exhausted. “I wish I had a blanket,” Jonathan said more for himself as he waited for Lire to figure out how to heal Dougal. A soft weight landed on him, engulfing him in heat. Jonathan released a happy sigh. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you.” He snuggled deeper beneath the soft cover.

“Um, darling,” Niall said, obviously having returned from his hunt. “You might want to wake up and deal with the fact you’re glowing like the sun and you’ve sprouted wings.”

Okay. That was an odd thing to say. Jonathan peeked one eye open. A large feathery blanket covered him from shoulder to foot. The soft-looking cover moved. Jonathan felt it happen behind his shoulders. Panic shot through him. He sprang upward. His face hit the ceiling with enough force to knock him back to the bed with a bounce. Jonathan cupped his soon to be black eye and assessed his situation.

“I had better not have just flown,” he said. His voice came out muffled around him nursing his injured face.

Three shocked stares faced him, including Dougal, who’d obviously awoken for the show. Niall cleared his throat. “You flew.”

Goddamn it. “I flew,” Jonathan agreed, incapable of softening his dry tone or denying what had just taken place. “Now I’m sitting on my wings,” Jonathan added, trying not to flip out. “I shouldn’t know that, but it hurts. Would someone like to explain why I have wings to sit on?”

“You’re a Nephilim,” Lire supplied unhelpfully.

Lire shouldn’t have spoken. He really shouldn’t have. Rage hit Jonathan. He dropped his hand and glared at Lire. “You. I don’t know how or why, but this is all on you.”

“Me?”

“You,” Jonathan repeated. “I was in bed, wrapped in my men’s arms without any fucking wings before you showed up. Now I’m a goddamn bird.”

“Nephilim,” Lire repeated, as if reminding Jonathan of the truth.

Jonathan slashed his hand through the air. “What the fuck ever. I want these wings gone.” In spite of his best efforts, Jonathan roared the final word, making everyone jump as his voice echoed off the walls, sounding unnatural. The wings shrank and disappeared. Jonathan watched it happen, still trying to fight back his panic. Once they were gone, he twisted, trying to see his back. There were black markings on his shoulders, but that was all he could see without a mirror. Niall circled the bed and inspected Jonathan’s back.

“Whoa, baby. That’s incredibly sexy.”

Jonathan kept twisting at different angles. “What?”

“Come on,” Niall said, helping him from the bed and heading for the dresser. There was a huge mirror above it. Jonathan turned and looked over his shoulder. He had wings tattooed on his back. They covered the entire surface, even disappearing beneath the back of his shorts. “We should go home. I’m verra interested in inspecting all of this,” Niall said. Heat dripped from every word. Their gazes met and Jonathan didn’t doubt his power to command everything in the universe. With a snap of his fingers, they were back home and in bed. The fake shorts Lire created were gone. Niall glanced around the room. “You did this?”

Jonathan didn’t look away. He craved his mate. “Yes. I wanted to be home with you and knew I could have it, so I made it happen.”

Niall shook his head. “I’ll never stop being blown away by you.”

Jonathan’s mouth turned up in one corner. “The only thing stopping me from a total meltdown right now is this,” Jonathan admitted, reaching out and stroking Niall’s chest. Jonathan sent out a mental call for Cin, needing to complete their soul.

Cin, come home.

His sexy mate appeared like dust gathering in one spot until it formed the shape of Cin. He stared down at Jonathan and Niall from the edge of the bed. His gaze moved over Jonathan’s face. Jonathan could feel the tickle of him probing his mind. Cin’s eyes widened as Jonathan let him see as much as he liked. He climbed on the bed and inspected Jonathan’s body. “Holy hell. That’s hot,” Cin said, tracing the lines of Jonathan’s ink wings. The odd thing was, he felt it as if the man had touched the actual wings and not just a drawing.

“Fuck me,” Jonathan moaned against his will. “Do that again.”

At his demand, Cin traced the same line. A cry escaped Jonathan. Cin’s sexy blue eyes lit. “You have a new hot spot. I wonder what happens if I lick it.”

Jonathan pushed at Niall’s chest, forcing him onto his back. He straddled Niall’s hips, even as he begged Cin not to stop. “There’s only one way to find out.” The final word left Jonathan’s lips on a strangled cry as Cin’s tongue stroked his spine. “Damn, I want you both inside me.” These men—these sexy as sin otherworldly beasts—were his. Sometimes it struck Jonathan at the oddest times. Like now. He should be terrified and freaking the fuck out, but neither emotion took hold. Jonathan already knew—no matter what—he wasn’t alone. As always, with every new power he randomly had thrust upon him, Jonathan turned to the pieces of his soul to remind him he was still just a man.

Cin stripped as Jonathan claimed Niall’s mouth. Impatience roared through him as he shredded Niall’s clothes, leaving the man nude. Cin’s palm slid down Jonathan’s spine. He lifted into the man’s touch while never breaking Niall’s kiss. Niall was dark. Inky blackness always brewed inside him just beneath the surface, but his kiss never showed it. His lips were soft and his tongue sweetly searching. Cin was the opposite. While Niall’s kiss showed the man’s gentle side—a side only Jonathan and Cin saw—Cin’s lube-coated fingers stretched Jonathan’s asshole, preparing him for the rough fucking he was about to receive.

Niall hissed as Cin took control and oiled up his cock. Their mouths moved over every inch of one another’s bodies they could reach as Cin helped guide Niall’s dick inside Jonathan. Niall moaned. Jonathan gasped. He wanted everything they did to him. Jonathan couldn’t pretend he wasn’t kinky as fuck. Vampires’ bodies were constantly repairing themselves, making moments such as these always feel like the first time. The idea of both his mates pushing their way inside him at the same time, finding his limits and pushing him over, had Jonathan’s dick dripping pre-cum all over Niall’s abs. They didn’t need to touch his cock. His mind was fucked every bit as much as his ass and Jonathan was a mess.

He sank down on Niall’s erection even as Cin fingered his hole, making room to guide his cock inside. Jonathan pushed back, needing the pain and the pleasure.

“Goddamn, baby,” Cin hissed as he filled Jonathan past completion. “I don’t know if I can move. Between this tight arse and Niall’s sexy dick rubbing mine, I’m too close. Fook, you both slay me.” Jonathan panted out each breath. Their cocks, Cin’s words, and Niall’s lips against his throat had Jonathan on the verge of flying apart. Then, Niall rotated his hips, pumping inside him. Jonathan saw stars. Cin cursed in three languages. “Oh, god. My babies,” Cin hissed. He pivoted his hips, going deep and wiping Jonathan’s mind clean. The way his men handled his body was the only thing Jonathan knew. “You make me want to bind you both and take my pleasure,” Cin said, keeping up the torture. “The things I could do to you both, damn.” His fangs sank into Jonathan’s shoulder and all the images inside Cin’s head filled Jonathan’s mind. Cin’s fantasies had Niall and Cin ass to ass, fucking a double-sided dildo while Jonathan held their dicks upright and sank down onto them over and over. The vision changed and Jonathan clung to the headboard while straddling Cin’s head and balls deep down the man’s throat while Niall fucked Cin’s ass. They had forever—literally. There was nothing they weren’t willing to try. In his human years, Jonathan had always been a bottom and nothing more. Eternity had expanded his willingness to try new things. Cin’s fantasies had him wanting everything right now. Niall’s fangs pierced his chest. The sudden pain combined with his mates holding him in place as they took their pleasure, making Jonathan’s mind reel. Two dicks moved inside him, pulling him in every direction and hitting all the spots he loved. Cin’s dirty thoughts kept overtaking him, moving from getting sucked off to him gagging on Cin’s dick and hours of edging. Jonathan couldn’t take any more. He fisted his cock and tugged. Release was right there just out of his reach. Still, Jonathan teased himself, toying with his crown and making his nerve endings sing before fucking his fist. In two short strokes, an explosion roared through him, tearing a shout from his throat. Everything went black as Niall moaned against his chest and Cin’s cries vibrated against his neck. They collapsed into a heap.