Chapter 15

Kai’s kissing me before I even enter the throne room. Behind him, Bronson releases a growl of irritation, but he doesn’t protest as I’m led through the doors and onto the rough stone floor. There’s a bed in a tiny room located behind Kai’s makeshift throne, but we’re too eager to explore each other’s bodies to use it. No, this is going to be raw and dirty.

“You lost, wolf.” Damien’s voice is almost taunting as he strolls up behind me and pushes my dress down. His hands immediately move to my breasts, kneading the heavy flesh and plucking my nipples.

“Because you cheated,” Bron snarls, though the noise sounds more lust filled than anything. “Oh…fuck.”

I don’t bother submerging myself in any of their minds. I want to focus on the sensations their touches evoke, their unique scents, their hushed praises and whispered reverence.

I feel Kai move to his knees to kiss my stomach as he lowers my dress down farther. His tongue enters my belly button before he licks a path down to the waistband of my panties and then to my core. Embers of need burn hotly inside of me as he kisses my mound through the lacy material.

I whimper, arching my back, as Kai continues his ruthless assault. Damien’s lips move to my neck, and I feel overwhelmed. By sensations. By the feelings they bring out of me. By love.

Kai pushes my panties to the side, and his tongue spears my pussy lips, running up and down the length of me. I moan, throwing my head back against Damien’s chest as my silent assassin continues his assault on my aching breasts. I can hear rather than see Bronson pacing, his footsteps brisk as he releases low growl after low growl. The sound is rough and primal, shooting liquid heat straight to my center.

My orgasm comes hard and fast, but it doesn’t take me by surprise. I was balancing on that precipice for quite some time, and Bronson’s lust filled snarl only forced me over the edge, tumbling head over feet until I crashed at the rocky, beautiful bottom.

But my guys aren’t done. Not even close.

I’m dimly aware of being pushed onto my hands and knees, my position changing so that I’m now facing Damien. I blindly place my hands on his thighs, loving the way his muscles clench beneath my touch, before fumbling for his zipper. His cock hits my face, and it takes considerable effort to feed it into my mouth. I run my tongue over his slit, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, as his hands tangle in my thick black hair.

I can feel Kai line up at my entrance, his cock prodding my already soaked pussy, and he doesn’t waste any time thrusting into me. The force pushes my mouth farther down Damien’s cock, and I remember to hollow my cheeks like they taught me. He’s so deep inside of me that I want to gag, but I resist the urge and take him even deeper.

I fist Damien’s pants as Kai makes love to me from behind. Damien’s cock slides in and out of my mouth, and I feel a trail of saliva dripping down my chin from the force of his brutal thrusts.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Bronson murmurs, and I half wonder if he’s fisting himself. If his eyes are trained on the way Kai destroys my pussy and Damien claims my mouth like it’s his and his alone. Or maybe he’s staring at my tits swaying with every forward thrust of Kai’s hips.

Kai’s hand lowers to my clit, even as his punishing pace increases.

I’m so close…

The door to the throne room is pushed open, and all three of us freeze.

Before I can even catch my bearings, I’m on my feet and pushed behind two strong bodies. Another large figure comes up beside me and places a hand on my waist, holding me still. Bronson, if his pine tree scent is any indication.

I slide easily into Kai’s head to face the intruders, my smile growing when I spot the twins. But that smile fades when I notice the man standing between them, his mouth agape and his eyes swimming with deep and undiluted lust. He quickly tries to clear his expression, adopting a nonchalant frown, but that doesn’t stop the threatening growls pouring from my men. Even Abel and Cain, the two who brought him into our throne room, appear pissed as all can be, their eyes brimming red as their demons make appearances.

The first thing I notice is that the man is beautiful. That might be a strange thing to say about a guy, especially one in prison, but there’s no denying that he has the face of an angel. His blond hair, so light it’s almost white, frames a decidedly cherubic, innocent face—high cheekbones, thick lips, golden skin, long, sooty lashes. I spot tattoos on his arms and chest that give him a rough vibe, directly at odds with his angelic appearance.

There’s something in his eyes that gives me a pause, something hard and cold and not entirely unlike Damien’s.

“Kill him,” Kai says instantly, taking a threatening step closer, and the man’s face pales significantly, though he continues to offer us that bored, almost lazy expression.

“He says he has information,” Cain sneers as he pushes the man a few steps forward, towards the group of monsters just waiting to unleash all of their pent-up anger onto their prey. A sliver of fear snakes down my spine as I stare at the man. It’s not the fear one would expect. I don’t believe he’s going to hurt me. No, if anything, I’m afraid he’s going to hurt one of my men.

Or one of my men is going to hurt him.

I feel something touch my head, but I don’t protest as Bronson dresses me in a baggy shirt, the smell revealing it to be Kai’s. It reaches my knees, the fabric swishing around me when I move. Through Kai’s eyes, I watch as Damien calmly walks forward, shoving his dick back into his pants in an almost lackadaisical way, as if it’s an inconvenience for him to not be flashing the world.

“What is your name, runt?” A knife appears in Damien’s hand as he tilts his head curiously to the side. His gaze is cold. Icy. Emotionless.

And I know that I’m not looking at Damien the lover, but Damien the killer.

“Logan,” the man replies without preamble, flashing my assassin a charming smile, one that makes two dimples pop out.

I swear if it was even possible, Damien looks more murderous, his icy blue eyes flashing. Logan’s smile wavers slightly, even as confusion creases his features. He glances from Damien to the twins before finally settling his attention on me over Kai’s shoulder. That confusion is replaced by curiosity and lingering lust. I want to tell him to look away, that he’ll only make things worse, but Logan is either an idiot or he has a death wish.

“Don’t look at her,” Bronson growls out, moving to stand in front of me. When Kai turns away from Logan and focuses on me once more, I pull out of his head and into Bron’s. Of course, my broody, overprotective shifter is glaring at the new prisoner as if he’s mentally planning to rip his head off his body.

I stumble forward until my cheek is against Bron’s back and then wrap both of my arms around his waist. I physically feel the tension drain from his rigid body at my touch, and his gaze lowers to where my hands touch his abs. He’s too large for me to connect them, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he places his large paws over mine.

“You okay, Goddess?” he whispers, too low for anyone but me to hear.

“Of course.”

I know what he’s asking and why he’s asking. There’s no doubt that this Logan person saw me in a compromising position with two of my men. But instead of the self-consciousness I thought I would feel, I am…

Calm? Is that the right word?

Maybe I don’t know how I feel necessarily, but it’s not anger or hurt.

“What did you have to tell us?” My soft voice has everyone turning to face me, but I focus my white gaze in the general direction Bronson was looking earlier. At Logan.

“Maybe if the information is good enough, we’ll let you live,” Kai snarls, and I just barely contain my eye roll. I love all of my guys, but sometimes they can be a teeny tiny bit…psychotic? Murderous? Overprotective?

“It’s about the list.” Logan doesn’t beat around the bush, and Bronson reluctantly turns away from me to face the blond-haired man once more. “The hit list. And the dead pool.”

Logan is across the room in a span of seconds, his back against the wall and Damien’s knife at the hollow of his throat. I take an automatic step forward, but both Kai and Bronson reach out to stop me.

“How do you know this?” Damien presses the knife in just enough to draw blood, and I watch as it travels down Logan’s creamy skin, marring the colorful tattoos already present there. Logan doesn’t even flinch, which is more than I can say for most men who face Damien’s wrath.

“Because,” Logan lifts his head to meet Damien’s ice-blue gaze defiantly, “I was sent to kill her.”