“Tell me what you want next,” Dastian says.
“Everything,” I manage.
Voren pulls his thumb free and replaces it with his mouth, kissing me slowly and deeply. I hold his wrist and bite down when Dreven hits a spot that makes my vision spark. Voren groans into my mouth and presses his palm to my chest, rightover the Crown’s seam. My pulse thunders under his hand, steadying. He pulls back.
I grab Dastian by the nape and drag him down for a kiss. He smiles against my lips and then slides his hand over my nipple as he rubs small, precise circles until I’m arching. Dreven adjusts his angle, bracing one hand beside my head, driving in harder. I lock my ankles at his back and take it, everything tight and perfect and mine.
I tip over with a cry, clenching around Dreven as heat races through me in waves. He follows quickly with a rough sound, burying himself, shuddering. Dastian barely gives him time to move out of the way before he flips me over and presses his hand to the small of my back. His cock is inside me in the next breath, and I cry out as he sinks into my cum-soaked pussy.
Dastian fills me with a smooth, relentless rhythm, one hand on my hip, the other splayed between my shoulders to keep me right where he wants me. I push back, meeting him, needy and greedy, and he laughs under his breath in that way that makes my skin prickle.
“Take him,” Voren murmurs in my ear.
Heat climbs again, sharp and fast. Dastian grinds deeper, angling just right. I curse, loud and unashamed.
“Harder,” I manage.
He gives it to me. The bed knocks the wall with each thrust, steady and ruthless. Dreven’s hand wraps around mine, his thumb tracing the pulse at my wrist as if he’s keeping count. The pressure builds and snaps; I come with a gasp I can’t swallow. Dastian doesn’t stop until I shudder apart, and then he drives in again, deeper, harder.
I whimper as I drench his cock, needing more. Needing everything.
“Don’t stop,” I pant.
Voren’s hand slides down my spine. “We won’t.”
Dastian changes his rhythm, deeper, slower, and lifts me up enough for Voren to slide underneath me, and I straddle him.
Voren enters me carefully, pushing his cock in alongside Dastian’s.
“Yes,” I whisper, the stretch burning in a good way. “More.”
He gives me more, measured, deliberate, and Dastian matches him. They find a pace together that makes my head spin.
“Beautiful,” Dreven says, voice thick.
I’m braced, greedy for it. Dastian’s hand slides around, pressing on my clit when Voren pushes all the way in. My vision goes white around the edges. I break with a hard cry and shake through it, clenching around both of them. Dastian curses and pounds through the clench, rough and perfect. Voren holds me still and gives me slow, ruthless thrusts that wring aftershocks out of me until I’m gasping.
“Come all over us again,” Dastian growls.
A sharp snap of pleasure jolts through me at his words.
Dastian groans and follows me over the edge, spilling, and then stays buried, pulsing. Voren is nowhere near done yet. Dastian withdraws, and Voren flips me over so that I’m underneath him. He pounds into me. Hard. Fast. Wet. Hot.
I rake my nails down his back. He thrusts deeper, steadier, and I break again, everything tight and shaking. He follows me with a rough sound that goes straight through me, pulse after pulse, until he stills.
For a long moment, none of us moves. My heart hammers. My body hums. I am warm and wrung out and, for the first time since the beige nightmare knocked on my door, quiet in my own head.
We breathe. The world doesn’t end. The cottage doesn’t shake. It’s ridiculous that the answer to an existential crisis is a slayer, three gods and a bed, but here we are.
I open my eyes and find Dreven watching me. “Still here,” I say.
“Good,” he replies, and kisses my temple. “Don’t disappear without telling me again.”
“I’ll pencil it into my apocalypse calendar.”
Voren’s fingers trace idle circles near my navel. “The dead are murmuring again.”
I go still. “Now?”
