Thorne’s laugh is low, mocking, still his eyes burn with the same hunger that devours me. “Careful., you almost sound like me.”
Croía is trembling, but not from fear, from surrender. Her chest heaves against me, and I feel the faintest tremor ripple through her as Thorne presses closer from the other side. For a heartbeat, the three of us are still, the air so heavy it feels as if the walls might crack from it. Then she tilts her head back, exposing her throat and that’s all it takes.
My mouth crashes against hers, my tongue claiming. Thorne grips her chin between his claws, forcing her to take his kiss the instant I pull away. She moans, a desperate, broken sound, and it snaps something loose inside me. I should hate it, seeing him devour what’s mine. Instead, the fire in my blood roars hotter. Her nails rake down my chest, then into Thorne’s arm. She’s caught between us, and she loves it. I can feel her body yielding, arching, begging for more.
Thorne’s voice is rough when it breaks through. “She was made for this. For us.”
“Not us,” I growl, my hand fisting in her hair as I yank her head back, forcing her eyes on me. “For me. Always me.”
Even as I say it, I don’t stop him.I can’t.The sight of her giving in, trembling with want, with both of us on her. It’s intoxicating. The power inside me hums in approval. Croía… she’s not choosing between us; she's taking us both.
Croía gasps as my hand tangles in her hair, pulling her back against my chest. Thorne’s lips claim the soft curve of her throat, his teeth grazing, as her cry vibrates straight into my bones. I press harder into her hips, forcing her to feel how desperate I am. While Thorne’s claws roam her bare skin, mapping every inch as though he has a right to it. She writhes between us, a desperate little whimper spilling from her lips and God help me, the sound makes me harder.
“You’re mine,” I snarl into her ear, dragging my teeth along her skin.
“And mine,” Thorne adds, his voice like dark velvet, his mouth now trailing down her collarbone.
Croía trembles, her fingers clutching at me, then at him, her nails scraping at us both, unable to choose. She doesn’t want to. She’s caught between the fire of my need and the shadow of his control.
For a heartbeat, I hate it, sharing her, letting his mouth devour what’s mine but then she moans, and the sound breaks me. I grip her harder, shove her tighter between us, and give in to the madness.
Her lips crash to mine, her tongue fierce, while Thorne drags his mouth lower, staking his own claim. All I can think, all I can feel, is that I’ll burn the world to keep her like this. Her body is fire between us, every gasp and tremor feeding the hunger chewing through my veins. I grip Croía’s hips and press her tighter against me, grinding until her whimpers split the air. Thorne’sclaws trail lower, spreading heat across her thighs, his mouth never leaving her skin.
She’s moaning louder now, and it drives me insane. The need takes over, and I pull her off Thorne, pressing her back against the cold wall. Her legs are already parting to welcome me. Thorne doesn’t step away. Instead, he cages her from the side, his chest flush to her shoulder, one of his claws sliding between her thighs. He strokes her clit and Croía cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders as she arches into his touch while still reaching for me.
“Greedy little banshee,” Thorne murmurs, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. “You want us both.”
“Yes,” she gasps, and the sound shatters whatever restraint I had left.
With a desperate need clawing through me, I shove her leg over my hip and thrust into her, the heat of her wrapping me so tight it has me seeing stars. She screams and clings to me as if I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
Thorne is still there. His mouth claiming hers as I pound into her, his claws stroking where we’re joined, every touch making her cry louder. I can feel her body clench around me as if she never wants to let go.
Her lips break from his with a sob, her head falling back, and I bury my mouth in her throat, biting hard. She comes undone, screaming my name. I lose myself in the heat of her, in the way Thorne holds her steady, in the madness of all three of us.
When I finally spill into her, it’s with a growl, my body trembling, my power burning so bright it feels as though the room itself shudders. Thorne’s flaming eyes are on me the whole time, hungry, and when I collapse against Croía, she’s clinging to us both.
Her body is still trembling, my come dripping down her thighs when Thorne moves. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate. He pulls her from my arms as if she belongs to him, and a twisted part of me lets him, because I want to see it. I want to see her taken, undone again.
Croía whimpers my name, reaching for me even as Thorne bends her over the back of the old musty chair. “You’re not losing me,” I growl, pressing my palm to her back, kissing the sweat-slick curve of her spine. “This is me too. Always me.”
Thorne chuckles low, his claws gripping her hips possessively. “Then watch.”
And I do. I watch as he unzips his pants, letting them drop as his large red cock springs free. I stare in disbelief, my mouth going dry, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. I’ve never seen anything like it. A veiny mahogany red, streaked with black, the ridges beneath twisting like a living Jacobs ladder. With horns arching from either side of his balls, it frames him in a way that’s both terrifying and arousing.
He pushes into Croía in one brutal stroke, her cry muffled against the fabric of the chair. My cock jerks hard at the sight, already aching for her again. I move to her side, stroking herhair back, letting her see the hunger in my eyes as she’s filled by another.
“You’re taking him so well,” I whisper against her lips before kissing her hard, swallowing her moans. She’s clenching around him, her body already spiraling again, and I can feel her desperate need through the way she kisses me.
Thorne pounds into her mercilessly, and I slide my hand between her thighs, rubbing where she’s stretched open for him. I stroke her clit, fast, working her closer to the edge. “That’s it, scream for us,” I growl, my own voice ragged with want.
Her scream breaks through the room when she comes again, her body jerking violently. Thorne snarls, his hips slamming deep, as he empties himself inside her with a guttural curse.
She collapses forward, shaking, gasping for breath. However I’m not done, and by the look on Thorne’s face neither is he.
Déanaimid malartú cuma, comhaontú gan labhairt. Is linne í. Agus táimid i bhfad ó bheith críochnaithe.(We exchange a look, an unspoken agreement. She’s ours, and we’re far from finished.)
She’s still trembling, sweat slick on her skin, when Thorne pulls her up against him, one claw wrapped around her throat, holding her upright. Her body is flushed, but her eyes burn, daring us for more.
