Aengus remained inside me, his forehead pressed to my collarbone, his breath coming in short, hot bursts against my skin. But I could sense him deflating, which filled me with a raw panic.
“More,” I cried out, whiny with need. “Please more!”
Aengus withdrew, and the loss of him made me gasp—actually gasp, like someone had pulled a warm blanket off me in a blizzard. But before the desperation could fully set in, Diarmuid was there.
Flipping me over. Face pressed into the furs. He fell over me like another blanket—thick, heavily weighted, and pinning me down.
Like sparring. But not like sparring at all.
Instead of silently cursing his name, my wolf whimpered beneath him, loving that I couldn’t move, loving his absolute domination.
One of his large legs moved under my right thigh, lifting it into a 90-degree angle.
Opening my dripping core to the room’s crisp air. Above me, he let out a series of those rattling Predator clicks before thrusting into me with one hard stroke that rocked my body up on the bed.
Diarmuid didn’t start off slow. There was no gentle reassurance.
Pinning me down on the bed with his full crushing weight—a weight I’d cursed during every drill, every sparring match, every time he’d knocked me flat. But now he was taking me with silent, precise, and relentless strokes, each thrust hitting exactly where the heat demanded.
I screamed soundlessly into the fur as the pleasure racked through me.
His hands gripped my hips hard enough that I knew I’d see the marks later, and I didn’t care. My eyes rolled, both my human and wolf awash in the euphoria of being held and taken in the most primal way.
His second, thinner length joined his first, pressing its way into my hungry core and stretching me even wider—with a pulsing action that reached my clit. The combination of fullness and direct stimulation was so intense, my vision actually whited out around the edges.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, not caring if I passed out. “Diarmuid, please don’t stop.”
“We will not stop,” he vowed, his pace turning punishing, his weight bearing down on me until I could feel his heartbeat—or whatever dragons had—pounding against my spine. “We will give you whatever you want. Whatever you need. Always. Stay with us, Reverence. Please.”
My drill sergeant. My tormentor. His desperate plea undid me.
This time the orgasm didn’t fry my brain. It cracked me open.
I came so hard, tears streamed down my face. I was making sounds that weren’t words, weren’t even language, just raw animal noise.
Diarmuid followed me over the edge. I felt the sizzling hot flood of his release inside me, felt his entire body shudder, felt his forehead drop to the space above where my hand was fisting the furs as he made that same half-chuff, half-Predator rattle sound from somewhere deep in his chest.
For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Just our breathing. Just the furs beneath me and Diarmuid’s weight on my back.
“Give her to us. We would not have you crush her.”
Diarmuid lifted off of me, giving me enough room to turn my head in the direction of the voice.
I found Aengus lying there on the bed next to us, head braced on one hand. His second dick writhed underneath his main one. Which was hard again.
“May we kiss you?”
I nodded, and he tugged me over to his side of the bed with only the strength of one arm.
“Are you happy with us?” His lips found my face, and his tongue flicked over the tears I’d sobbed while underneath Diarmuid.
“Five stars!” I somehow managed to choke out. “You guys are, um… insanely good at sex.”
“We had the most amazing teacher.” Diarmuid came up behind me to kiss my neck, sending shivers through me.
Still, a weird jealousy hit at the thought of them with another woman. “Who…?” I started to demand. Before my brain caught up. “Wait, it was past me, wasn’t it?”
“Past yous,” Aengus corrected. His hand delved down to play in the mess they’d made of my sex. “We needed much teaching.”
