Solomon’s hand traveled from the corset panel to her hip, gripping through the layers of fabric, pulling her back against his body. His mouth moved from her neck to the claiming mark on the left side of her throat.
Her knees buckled.
I caught her. One arm around her waist, the other braced against the mirror’s frame, holding her upright while Solomon took her apart from behind.
I turned her. Positioned her facing the full-length glass, my chest against her back, Solomon stepping to the side to work the corset lacing free with urgency that bordered on violent. The gown loosened and he pushed it off her shoulders, the midnight fabric sliding down her arms, pooling at her waist.
Her reflection stared back at us. Copper hair falling loose. Bare from the waist up except for the obsidian pendant between herbreasts. The swell of her belly, undeniably present. Solomon’s hands on her ribs from behind me. My mouth on her shoulder.
“Look at you,” I murmured against her skin. “Look at what’s mine.”
“Ours,” Solomon corrected. His voice was wrecked, barely above a whisper, and his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs dragging across her nipples, and she arched into the touch with a moan that I felt in my spine.
“Ours,” I conceded.
Mira watched in the mirror as Solomon’s hands moved down her body. His fingers hooked the gown at her waist and pushed it lower, past her hips, until it pooled at her feet and she stood in nothing but the pendant and the claiming mark on her throat.
My mouth pressed to the mark. My tongue traced the scar and she shuddered, her ass pressing back against my cock.
“Lucian.” My name, breathless.
Solomon dropped to his knees behind her. His mouth found the small of her back, tracing down her spine while his hands gripped her thighs, spreading them. In the mirror, I watched his silver head descend, watched Mira’s lips part, watched her hand fly back to grip his hair as his mouth found her from behind.
“Oh God.” Her voice cracked. “Sol...”
His tongue moved through her folds from behind, devastatingly thorough, and I held her upright because her legs were shaking. My hand found her jaw, tilting her face to mine, and kissed herwhile Solomon worked her open with his mouth. She moaned into my kiss, the sound vibrating through my chest, and I swallowed it whole.
My free hand reached down, fingers finding her clit from the front while Solomon’s tongue pushed inside her from behind.
I rubbed slow circles over that swollen nub, feeling it throb under my touch as Mira broke the kiss to cry out. Her body stayed trapped between us, my fingers working her clit with steady pressure and Solomon’s mouth devouring her from behind, his tongue thrusting deep into her dripping pussy.
“Watch,” I told her. “The mirror.”
Her eyes opened. In the glass, she saw herself. Flushed, trembling, held upright by a king’s arm while his enforcer knelt behind her with his face between her legs. Three claiming mark visible on her throat. The pendant swinging with each gasp.
“You see that?” I grazed my mouth to her ear. “That’s my queen.”
Solomon pulled back just long enough to say, “Our queen,” before his mouth returned to her folds. He sucked on her clit now, his tongue flicking fast and Mira’s knees gave out entirely. She sagged against me, her cries turning into desperate moans that echoed off the walls.
My fingers sped up on her clit, pinching lightly then soothing with firm strokes, drawing out more of those sweet sounds from her. “Your Majesty-”
Solomon’s hands gripped her ass cheeks, spreading them wider as he licked a long stripe from her entrance to her clit, thenplunged his tongue back inside. He hummed against her, the vibration making her buck wildly.
In the mirror, I watched her face contort in bliss, her lips parted, eyes locked on the reflection of us claiming her.
“Mira,” Solomon rasped when he came up for air, his chin slick with her arousal. “You taste like heaven.” He dove back in, two fingers joining his tongue now, curling inside her to hit that spot that made her scream.
Her body shook between us, pleasure building fast. I held her tight, my other arm banded across her chest, thumb brushing one hardened nipple through her thin gown.
“You’re doing so well,” I praised, kissing down her neck. “Look at yourself in that mirror. See how we pleasure you. I want you to come for us.”
She shattered then, her pussy clenching around Solomon’s fingers as waves of ecstasy ripped through her. Her cries filled the room, raw and uninhibited, and I watched every second in the mirror: her head thrown back against my shoulder, thighs quivering, the three of us connected in this heated bond.
I caught her as she slumped, lifting her effortlessly into my arms. She was light, precious, her swollen belly a reminder of the life we protected even in this frenzy. I carried her to the chaise beside the mirror, laying her on her back with care, positioning her at the edge so her legs dangled, giving us full access to her glistening core.
Solomon was already unfastening his trousers, his movements urgent. His cock sprang free, veins pulsing along its length.Mira’s hand reached for him on instinct, wrapping around his shaft with a firm grip that made his jaw clench tight.
She stroked him slow at first, then faster, her thumb circling the head to spread that slickness, and Solomon’s silver eyes blazed with gold at the edges, his breath coming in harsh pants.
