Reaper’s fingers slip from my mouth, and then he cups my jaw, guiding my mouth to his cock. He fists the base, fingers slick from my spit, dragging the head across my mouth. I open, greedy, needy, and he slides in, just barely. My tongue skates across his slit, and the taste of him rips a groan from my throat. Smoke and cedar and dark earth. I suck the tip, then let him push deeper. The muffled, fractured sound he makes is half relief, half resentment, as he drives in roughly. I gag, tears pricking my eyes. He shudders as he forces himself into my throat, and sparks shoot down my spine.
“Come on, Kitten, let me in deeper. I know you can take it.” He’s still caressing my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek as he feeds himself slowly into my throat. It’s hard to take him deep at this angle, but he drives in, blocking my airway. I look up, hoping to see something, vulnerability or need, but the meltingskull mask hides every feature, leaving only black starless night eyes drinking me in.
“Good girl,” he rasps, then pulls out. I cough, gasping for air right before he shoves his cock back in. Then they’re all moving again as he thrusts forward with an even rhythm, controlling my mouth with a deft, possessive hunger. I suck him harder, desperate to obey, nails digging into the cold earth as I brace myself.
“Her pussy is squeezing me so tight.” Breaker’s cock pistons in and out, Viper’s finger sinks into my ass.
“Take him deeper, Princess.”
I obey, swallowing him down.
“Good girl,” Striker’s gentle praise and grip in my hair sends me higher, pleasure snapping along my spine like fireworks. Reaper’s hand tightens along my jaw when I gag, flaming that carnal desire hotter.
“You’re taking us so well,” Breaker grates, words choppy. “Your little pussy is sucking my cock in so deep, taking every inch.”
He thrusts forward, pinning his hips to my ass. Pain sears through me as he seats himself deeply, but he eases up, fucking me again, and it’s replaced with white-hot pleasure.
With my hands in the dirt, rocks and sticks scraping my knees, being fucked brutally, my throat used, awakens that feral feeling inside me. I careen toward it, open, ready, and land, cracking open with a feral groan.
The world shatters. Every sense blurs, and I’m only faintly aware of Reaper’s splintered moan as I break apart. Barely aware of Breaker’s wild, guttural groan. His cock pulsing, and the heat spilling inside me, a full-body shudder moving through him into me.
Reaper withdraws from my throat, and I suck in air, my arms giving as my release fades. He eases his hold on me, andStriker’s nails rake across my scalp as his grip tightens, keeping me upright.
“Oh, fuck,yes.” Breaker’s wild, guttural groan fractures in his throat. His movements ease to a slow, steady thrust. “Fucking perfect, Delilah, you’re perfect.”
Striker’s other hand palms the side of my neck, bringing me back to center. My eyes clear, pleasure fading as Breaker pulls out. I wince, wet heat trailing between my thighs.
“God, look at you. So devastatingly beautiful. So perfectly ours,” Striker says, each word raw. Wrecked. Like he just confessed his worst sin. “Come here and let me have you.”
Chapter 51
Striker
Theysaythatfallingin love is like falling off a cliff. Some people tumble over the edge headfirst, and when they land, they crack open so brutally they never recover. Some jump cleanly, feet first, crashing to the bottom only to be left broken and mangled, alive but so damaged that recovery seems impossible. Others sort of trip and fall delicately, hitting the water safely just as the tide comes in. Then there are those unfortunate ones who dive cleanly over, but hit every single rock jutting from the cliff face on the way down until they’re so battered and bruised there’s no hope for them.
I fell before I even knew I was falling.
It was a slow-motion careen more than a fall or tumble. I fell backward, looking up at where I’d come from, my hands outstretched, longing for the safety of where I’d come from, terrified because I couldn’t see where I’d land.
Then suddenly I hit.
And I knew the second the air was knocked from my lungs my heart no longer belonged to me.
It was theirs.
Hers.
I drag Delilah closer, capturing her mouth, savoring the heat of her, ravenous for her sweet taste. Her soft moan batters at my glass-thin control, every sound creating more fissures. My fingers tighten in her hair, needing the reminder that she’s mine, all of ours, no matter how much it feels like this blooming thing might be ripped from my hands at any moment.
The weight of what we did to her sits heavy in my chest. Her trust, now, feels like a gift we never deserved.
Fallon was cruel.Weare cruel, and everything in me screams to take back all the wrongs we’ve done.
“You’re mine,” I whisper against her lips, the words inadequate against the weight of our sins.
A small, choked sound slips out of her, and I eat it up, desperate for any taste of redemption. Breaking the kiss, I drag my lips along her jawline, trailing my other hand under her sweater, feeling her hips, her ribs. Pinching her hard nipple over her bra. Like I can imprint her with how much I crave her. Want her.
Needher.
