Prying my fingers loose from his, I thread my fingers through his hair, urging him downward at the same time as I arch my back, presenting my breast to him like an offering.
“Fuck,” is all he says before his lips close around my nipple again, and this time he doesn’t hold back at all, sucking and biting softly and circling it with his tongue.
Before Remi can say anything to object, I yank my hand from his and pull him back down to kiss me again. The moment his lips meet mine, a little sound of surrender resonates in the back of his throat, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever heard. His hand goes to my other breast, squeezing and massaging it, making it feel heavy and full.
Beckett’s tongue on my sex is driving me closer and closer to another orgasm, and I shift my hips against his face, getting him right where I need him, pressing upward into his touch.
I’m close.
I’m so close.
But I need…
“Please,” I pant out, breaking away from Remi’s kiss long enough to speak. “I need… I’m so… empty…”
“I’m not going to fuck you, angel.”
It sounds like each one of those words costs Beckett something, and when I look down the line of my body, past the place where Nix is teasing the swell of my breast with the tip of his tongue, I can see Beck staring at me.
“But I told you,” he adds. “I’ll take care of you.”
The words make me whimper. His nostrils flare at the sound, and he looks almost feral as he releases his grip on my leg with one hand. He slides a finger into his mouth, and my breath hitches at the sight, my stomach clenching before turning to a pool of molten lava.
With the same slow deliberation, Beck withdraws his finger from between his lips. Then his tongue finds my clit again as his large finger slides inside me.
Yes. Please.
My legs lock up, my breath freezing in my lungs as my inner walls squeeze hard against the delicious intrusion. He begins to move it in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue, and then he—he curls it or something, finding a place inside me that I never, ever knew existed.
And I come again.
Now Nix is the one who kisses me, devouring the moans and cries that fall from my lips. At the same time, Remi’s mouth tastes the skin of my neck, my shoulder, and my chest as his hands roam over me with the same impunity as Nix’s do. My wings are tucked beneath my body, but the men stroke them too, their fingertips grazing over the sensitive feathers.
I feel like I’m being touched everywhere.
Like I’m being enveloped.
Consumed.
My body thrashes in their grasp, but they help me through it, holding me and moving with me as I shudder and jerk. The aftershocks seem to go on forever, and they ride me through those too, their movements slowing and gentling as my body finally starts to come down from the peak of the high.
Holy…
Whoa.
I blink up at the men with dazed eyes as they slowly sit back, all three of them watching me intently.
Wow. I’ve never felt anything like that before. It was… pure ecstasy.
Almost better than the incredible orgasm is the fact that I can feel the needy heat draining out of me. The potion or mist or whatever it was has run its course.
The world starts to come into focus again, and I don’t feel all woozy like I did before. My body’s thrumming with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and the images and feelings of the three men surrounding me are burned into me.
I won’t ever be able to stop thinking about this moment, no matter how hard I try. I can already tell.
But at least I’m starting to feel more like myself. My brain is no longer filled with pure, unabated need. I was only able to think about one thing while in the grip of that lust dust: sex. Now I can focus on—
Before I can finish the thought, the door bursts open.
Ford strides in with an irritated growl, dragging some guy behind him, but he goes stock still when he sees the four of us on the bed.
“What,” he says slowly, “in the ever-lovin’ fuck is going on here?”
Chapter Nineteen
Trinity
Ford’s sudden intrusion breaks the moment. The loaded tension that was hovering around the four of us like air in a balloon pops in an instant.
I sit up quickly, not missing the fact that each of the men around me are obviously still… well, hard. Visible bulges strain at their clothes, and my stomach dips and flutters at the sight, my insides going all hot and melty again.
Beckett, ever the businessman, gets up and calmly explains what happened, giving me a chance to scramble off the bed and retrieve my discarded clothing.
I retract my wings, then pull on my clothes so fast I end up putting my shirt on backward twice before I get it right.
Ford, meanwhile, glowers at all three of his brothers as Beckett speaks. I blush as I hear the dark-haired sin recount what just happened, but I also feel a spike of heat that I know has nothing to do with the lust dust.
The potion is out of my system now; I can feel it. Beckett was right about it disappearing once it was… er, sated. But that means the part of me that still heats up when I look at these men, that wants them to do what they did all over again—that’s all me.
I want them.
With or without lust dust.
I’ve been refusing to admit that since the second I met them, but I don’t think I can anymore. Something has changed between us, and I don’t know if it can ever go back to how it was.
How can it, now that I know what Beckett’s tongue feels like on me? What Remington’s fingers can do, and the way Phoenix kisses so languid and slow?
“Well,” Ford snaps, his icy eyes flashing, “while you three were playing at knocking your fuckin’ boots together, I actually did the job we came here for.”
He yanks the guy he’s been holding onto forward and dumps him on the floor in a heap. As I stare at the man in shock, I realize that of course he isn’t just a guy. He’s a demon. The one we came here to find.
He’s not the disgusting kind of corrupted that crawled out of the portal. This guy is higher up in the food chain. His skin has small cracks in it with black and orange colors pulsing out from underneath. His eyes are glowing a sickly yellow color, his teeth are a little too sharp, and bones protrude from his shoulders and forehead. Not quite horns, exactly; more like parts of his skeleton that grew the wrong way.
But the rest of him looks human. The stronger a corrupted is, the more normal they can make themselves appear. It allows them to blend in better with humanity and, well, live up to their name by corrupting souls.
The demon also looks incredibly beat up. He’s got bruises all over, and one eye has swollen until it’s nearly shut.
“You can’t do this,” he spits. “I been good, I been good to the community, I been good to you, Ford—”
“Yeah, and you’re not telling me about the demon portal, so.” Ford shrugs, then slams his foot down onto the guy’s face.
The demon goes out like a light as his head smacks the floor, and I jump, my heart thudding against my ribs.
Unruffled, Ford picks the guy up, hefting him over his shoulder. “Okay, now can we fuckin’ go? Or do you all want to spit-roast her again?”