Three groans sound from behind me.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Luca says. “I didn’t want to come and ruin your talk.” His fingers trail down my back. “Can I play with your pussy while Malach talks dirty to you in that language?”
I gasp, hear myself say yes, and then I’m tossed headfirst back into the river. Except there’s nothing lazy about it now. Luca buries two fingers inside me, curling them.
“I don’t know how to talk dirty,” Malach says, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Ali and I will help you,” Luca says, his breath catching. “Ciprian’s mouth is busy.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Malach kisses me again. “Okay.”
I arch my back as Luca strokes my inner thigh and glides his fingers over the globes of my ass. “You’re so soft, Celine. I could touch you all day.”
Malach strokes his fingertips over my cheek and rasps thethatshaequivalent.
I shiver. There’s something about the contrast of their voices and Malach’s willingness to play along. I’m immediately soaked.
Luca grazes my clit but doesn’t give me the pressure I want.
I choke on a groan.
“The sounds you make,” Alistair says. “They’re delicious. When you gasp and moan and scream, we burn for you.”
Malach translates, his voice curling around each syllable like acaress as he strokes my face and neck. I want his hands everywhere.
Luca dips his fingers back inside me. “So wet,” he gasps. “Soak my hand.”
As if I have a choice. I’m dripping down my thighs, each word turning me inside out. After all the stress and fear, the victory of getting them back is enough to make my toes curl. Hearing them work together...
Malach kisses me again, and I taste his growing confidence as he catalogs every shift of pleasure on my face.
“Your lips are a dream, my truth,” Malach purrs, deepening the kiss.
“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” Luca growls.
He slips a third finger inside me. The angle isn’t quite right. Gasping, I drag my leg over Malach’s hip, opening myself up wider. His eyes coast down my body, pupils dominating the green of his eyes.
Luca stiffens as he comes in Ciprian’s mouth.
Ciprian licks his lips and stares directly at me. “Split yourself open and beg for it, Celine. Make the view worth his wait.”
I bury my face in Malach’s neck, panting loudly. The corded muscle there is begging for me to sink my teeth into it. When Luca pinches my clit, I can’t resist, biting Malach as the orgasm crashes over me.
He rumbles low in his throat, and I tremble from the aftershocks.
“I’m sorry I bit?—”
“No,” Malach says in our language. “Never apologize for marking me. I’m yours, and I’ll wear your claim with pride and honor. When it fades, I’ll ask for another.”
I relax into the bed, my mind clear for the first time in days.
“We’re going to get out of here,” I say. “I’ll figure it out, I promise you.”
“We’llfigure it out,” Alistair says, his tone firm. “Together.”
No one comes to our birdcage prison except to drop off food.
Not the day after the fight, or the next.
