Page 82 of Peacemaker

The intensity of his touch was too much. The feeling of his body against my back, his lips against my temple, his hand around my throat, his fingers between my legs. It was too much.

My body was bursting with a need I hadn’t felt before. My skin, wherever he touched, even where he didn’t, was too hot, too rough with gooseflesh, too sensitive. My orgasm was right there, but it was also far away. I could feel it. I couldn’t fall into it. Not with Rhys. Not yet.

Because even though he wasn’t doing more than touching me with lips and fingers, he was maybe a little too close to freeing whatever it was inside him. Whatever it was that needed to stay restrained until I was ready for it.

But Rhys was close to losing control.

I felt it. I felt him.

And I was not ready.

I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell anyone. I was caught in a place of pleasure too extreme to really care if it killed me.

Whatever Himself had lent Rhys was making it so Rhys could do what he was doing, but I knew as well as I knew anything that I wasn’t the only one it would hurt. It was going to escape him. He was going to lose control.

He ground his cock against my backside, fucking me with his fingers, and he knew. He knew.

“Angus,”he ground out, his breath hot like fire against my face. “Take her.”

I smelled smoke. It drifted into my nostrils, into my brain, through my veins, and formed into a hand that cupped my sex.

Then I was being ripped away from him. I felt him stumble away, and Angus was there, his fingers replacing Rhys’s, holding me against him as Shane, Clayton, and Amias caught me in a circle of lust, familiar lust that I could handle. Familiar lust that would send me over the edge but wouldn’t kick my ass into oblivion.

They lay me down and crawled over me, and there wasn’t a place on my body they didn’t touch, kiss, lick, or bruise.

I wasn’t the only one who’d been nearly consumed by Rhys’s overpowering sex.

Clayton kissed me, and it was the kiss of a hunter, a freed hunter, and then Shane’s lips were there, his tongue tangled with ours, his fingers laced with Clayton’s as they ran them over my body.

Amias flashed his fangs, his eyes black, his fingertips pressing against the ghost wound on my thigh, making me climax with the memory of it. He bit the side of my neck, and as he pulled my blood into his mouth, it was one of the greatest pleasures I’d ever felt.

And Angus. Oh, my werebull.

I wrapped my fingers around his huge, hard cock, crying out at the perfect heat of it in my hand, wanting it inside me more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

“Angus,” I cried. “Please.”

Clayton stretched out between my legs and I closed my eyes in anticipation. My back bowed and I reflexively tightened my grip on Angus’s dick as I felt the first warm, wet strokes of my hunter’s tongue.

He held me open and slid his tongue inside me, sucked my clit into his mouth, nipped my flesh, made me come. Made me come hard.

I bucked so violently I nearly dislodged Shane’s mouth from my breast, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth so deeply that the pain mixed with the pleasure from the orgasm Clayton gave me and I came again, almost before the throbbing vibrations from the first orgasm ended.

Then Angus stood and yanked me off the floor, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, shuddering as he positioned his cock, probing my opening, and I squirmed eagerly, crying out as I sank onto his hardness.

Someone slipped his fingers between us and squeezed my clit, and Amias pressed his bare body against the back of me. He rubbed my asshole, then slid a finger inside, oily and slick, and I caught the subtle scent of olive oil.

“Trinity,” he whispered, questioning.

“Yes,” I hissed, as I moved in little circles on Angus’s cock. “Do it.”

I wrapped my arms around Angus’s neck and buried my mouth against his warm flesh as the vampire master began to slowly push his cock into my ass.

He grasped my hips, carefully teasing the tip of himself in, biting my shoulder blade when I tried to shove back against him.

Angus began to move, adding to the pleasure pain of Amias’s slow entry, going a little harder, a little deeper with each wet thrust. Shane pulled my head back and kissed me, dragging my hand to his dick, squeezing hard and running my closed fingers up and down his length. Clayton came to the other side and took my free hand, and I hung there, impaled by Angus and Amias, my hands caught by my hunters, filled up, pain becoming pleasure becoming pain, and I drowned in it.

Amias teased his way inside me, and both cocks thrust together, a rhythmic aching unfamiliar feeling I wasn’t sure of, until they made me climax.