“I-I can’t stop,” he said harshly against my cheek. “Oh fuck, kitten, I c-can’t stop.”
Lothar was talking to me while the beast claimed me for the both of them. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck and pressed my mouth to his ear. “You don’t have to stop. I don’t want you to stop, my love,” I rasped as more tears slid down my face. “Everything will be okay,” I said, desperately trying to reassure him, to get him through this, to get us both through this, but not knowing if what I said was true.
He lifted his head, and his red eyes hit mine. “Mate,” the beast said, but it was softer. “My mate.”
“Yes,” I said and took hold of his face again. “I’m yours.”
He rubbed his face against the side of mine, marking me with his scent, and eased up the intensity of his thrusts. “We don’t want to hurt our mate,” he said and slid his thumb over my cheek.
Lothar was getting through to the beast, somehow, they were communicating.
“Your mate appreciates that,” I said. “This feels much better.” And as fucked up as this whole thing was, it did feel better. The pain of his initial intrusion was gone, and in its place a warmth slowly unfurled, spreading through my belly and between my thighs. It was pleasure, steadily building inside me. I gasped, but this time, I didn’t choke it down, because it was the good kind.
The beast groaned. “Mate feels good. Smells good.” He slid deep and ground his hips, his panted breaths quickening. “We want mate to come,” he said and ground his hips against me again. “We want mate to come with us.”
We. That had to mean they were both here now, even if the beast was still dominant.
Heat washed through me—despite my wounds and barely healed body, despite this being the very last way I would have wanted to mate with Lothar in truth—and pleasure built, swirling low in my belly. My thighs trembled as Lothar began to thicken inside me, stretching me to my limits. I clung to his shoulders as he thrust deep over and over again.
When he tried to slide out next, my hips were tugged forward with him. He instantly stopped trying and instead pushed back in, rolling his hips against mine while he panted.
“Feel us,” he said roughly. “Feel our knot.”
“I f-feel it.” I groaned. Oh gods, we were locked together.
He ground against me more forcefully, and hot seed jetted into me, filling me up. I cried out, hooking my arms and legs more fiercely around him, giving both the beast and Lothar what they wanted, what they needed, and came hard with him. I gasped, and he groaned as we ground against each other, locked in place, our orgasms seemingly never-ending. He dragged his mouth over my shoulder, sucking, kissing, licking my skin. I knew what was coming, and there was no stopping it.
He sank his fangs into me and exploded into a wild frenzy. His jaws sunk deeper into my flesh, and he tore into my shoulder in his excitement. I bit back my cry of pain, not wanting to make this worse for Lothar. When he finally released me, he licked his bite, stopping the bleeding, but this wound was different, this was the only wound his saliva couldn’t heal. I’d wear it for an eternity, so everyone knew I was his.
He stayed where he was, holding me tight, a low rumbling sound rolling from him while we were still interlocked.
Several minutes passed before his knot finally released me, before he could slide his cock free.
He didn’t move, though, even as seconds ticked by. He didn’t speak, either, he just stood there panting, large body trembling, every muscle hard as granite.
“Lothar?” I whispered.
He jumped, like I’d yelled his name, then finally, he lifted his head. I could feel his struggle He was barely holding on, he was still fighting back the beast, but his eyes were burning bright gold now, and they bored into mine.
“Lothar?” I said again.
His chest heaved, that golden gaze searching mine. “What did you do, Roxy? What the fuck did you do to me?”
Then the gold was flooded with red, and he was gone.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Roxy
* * *
One of the wheels on the cage dropped into a pothole, jerking it to a stop. I tumbled to the side, my shoulder glancing the silver bars, burning my skin. Pain rolled through my body instantly, and I jerked away, wrapping my arms around my knees. The silver was angel blessed, and given that I was spawned in the depths of Hell, prolonged contact would turn me to ash. The demons pulling the cart heaved, and the cage finally bounced free with such force, I left the floor, then crashed back down, narrowly missing the bars a second time.
The silver not only kept us caged, it smothered our powers, making us almost as helpless as humans, and slowed my healing even more. My hand and scar on my side were the worst. My shoulder throbbed from Lothar’s bite, but I tried not to touch it. If Lothar was in there, watching, I didn’t want him to know it was bothering me.
He sat a couple feet away, his gaze trained on me. He seemed to have moments of lucidity, moments when the wild obsession left his red gaze and instead shone gold—and were full of anger, but worst of all horror.
