26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Iris

I crane my neck slightly, careful of the blade still resting against my own throat. Mason is just behind Elijah, fully dressed in his impeccable suit. The missing knife from earlier is clutched in his hand, its razor-sharp edge pressed firmly against Elijah's carotid artery.

Mason's voice remains calm and steady as he speaks, the knife at Elijah's throat never wavering. "I must admit, I'm quite impressed, Elijah. Not many could break free from those restraints, let alone while under the influence of such a potent aphrodisiac. You continue to surprise us at every turn."

His eyes flick to me, taking in my disheveled state and the knife Elijah still holds against my throat. A muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice betrays no emotion when he asks, "So tell me, pretty boy. Do you plan to kill my wife, or fuck her?"

Elijah's body trembles above me, fine tremors running through his muscles as he fights against the drug's effects. His pupils are still blown wide, leaving only a thin ring of icy blue around the edges. When he speaks, his voice is rough, strained.

"You said I was going to be killed," he growls, pressing the knife a fraction harder against my throat. A bead of blood wells up, trickling down my neck. "So tell me, why shouldn't I kill her? Why shouldn't I take you both out and be done with this whole fucked up situation?"

Mason's grip on his own knife tightens imperceptibly. "Ah, but you misunderstood, Elijah," he says smoothly. "I told you we had killed our previous guests. I never said we planned to kill you."

Elijah goes very still at this, his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. "What?" he breathes, disbelief coloring his tone.

"You heard me correctly," Mason continues. "The truth is, Elijah, you were right… I've grown... attached. And I know my wife. I can see she's attached to you too."

My breath catches in my throat at Mason's admission. He's right, of course. There's something about Elijah that draws us both in, something that sets him apart from everyone else.

Mason's voice drops lower, taking on a seductive purr. "And I make it a point of letting Iris have what she wants. Within reason, of course. And what she wants is you."

Elijah's grip on the knife falters slightly, confusion warring with the drug-induced lust in his eyes.

"So you see," Mason continues, "we find ourselves at an impasse. You have a knife to my wife's throat. I have a knife to yours. But we don’t want to kill you. The question is, where do we go from here?"

Elijah is silent for a moment, his icy blue eyes locked onto mine. I can see the war raging behind them - lust and longing battling against suspicion and self-preservation. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving with each labored inhale. A bead of sweat trickles down his temple, catching the soft morning light.

Finally, he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper, "I want to fuck you. God, I want to be between you both like I was that first night. I want it so badly it hurts." His hips roll, his rock-hard cock grinding against my stomach. "But I don't know if I can trust you. Either of you."

Mason's voice is smooth as silk when he replies, "Then fuck her. Show us what you really want, Elijah."

Elijah's movements are slow, careful, as he reaches between our bodies. His eyes never leaving mine, searching for any sign of deception or trickery. I hold his gaze steadily, letting him see the raw need burning within me.

I feel the cool metal of the knife slide along my skin as he shifts his grip, never fully removing the blade from my throat. His other hand finds the delicate lace of my panties. With a sudden, sharp motion, he rips the fabric away, the sound of tearing lace loud in the tense silence.

The movement causes Elijah's body to jerk slightly. A drop of blood wells up where Mason's knife presses against his throat, trickling down to land on my collarbone. The warm, crimson droplet slides down between my breasts, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Elijah's eyes follow its path, his pupils dilating even further with arousal until there is barely any blue left. His cock, already painfully hard from the drug, twitches against my bare skin. I can feel the heat of him, the desperation rolling off him in waves.

He shifts his weight, carefully maneuvering his body without disturbing the precarious balance of blades at our throats. I part my legs, allowing him to settle between them. The cool air kisses my heated flesh, sending a shiver through my body that has nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with anticipation. Elijah's skin burns like a furnace against mine, his body radiating a heat that seems to burn my very soul.

His free hand moves between us, his touch searing against my heated flesh. His fingers find my entrance. A low groan escapes him as he feels how wet I am, how ready I am for him.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice rough with need.

The knife at my throat never wavers as Elijah uses his free hand to position himself at my entrance. Despite the danger, or perhaps because of it, I'm embarrassingly wet. I feel the head of his cock brush against my clit before he shifts and then pushes into me slowly.

A low, guttural moan escapes Elijah's lips as he sinks deeper. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation. I gasp at the delicious stretch. Inch by exquisite inch, he fills me completely until I feel the press of his hips against mine.

For a heartbeat, we're both still, savoring the moment. I can feel every throb of his cock inside me, every twitch and pulse. My pussy clenches around him, drawing a sharp hiss from between his clenched teeth.

Elijah begins to move, his thrusts slow and measured. Each roll of his hips sends sparks of pleasure racing up my spine. The knife at my throat slides against my skin with each movement, the cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat building within me. It's exhilarating, terrifying, and arousing beyond measure.

After what feels like an eternity of slow, torturous thrusts, Mason finally speaks. "Good boy," he purrs, his voice low and rich with approval. The knife at Elijah's throat disappears, and I watch as some of the tension leaves Elijah's body.

With the immediate threat gone, Elijah's movements become more fluid, more confident. He picks up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. The knife at my own throat disappears as well, clattering to the floor beside us.

Mason moves to the side, his eyes dark with desire as he watches Elijah fuck me. With deft fingers, he undoes his belt and unzips his pants, freeing his own hard cock.

"I don't have any lube close by," Mason says, his voice husky. "So you're going to suck me while you fuck my wife. Show me how talented that mouth of yours really is."

I know we have lube stashed in nearly every room of the house—a necessity given our proclivities. But I understand what Mason is doing. This is a show of trust, an olive branch extended to Elijah.

We shift and reposition ourselves, a tangle of limbs and heated skin. Elijah pulls out of me momentarily, eliciting a whimper of loss from my lips. He helps me onto my hands and knees, then kneels behind me.

In one smooth motion, he sheaths himself inside me once more. I gasp at the new angle, feeling him even deeper than before. I watch over my shoulder as Mason positions himself in front of Elijah, his hard cock level with Elijah's face.

"Open up, pretty boy," Mason growls.

For a moment, everything is still. Then Elijah leans forward, his tongue darting out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of Mason's cock. Mason hisses in pleasure, his hand coming to rest on the back of Elijah's head.

Elijah takes Mason into his mouth, his lips stretching around Mason's length. At the same time, he resumes his thrusts into me, setting a steady rhythm that has me moaning in ecstasy.

The room fills with a symphony of moans, gasps, and the slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Elijah sets a punishing rhythm, his hips snapping forward with each thrust into me while he takes Mason deeper into his mouth.

I can feel every inch of Elijah's cock as he moves in and out of me, the delicious drag of him against my walls sending sparks of pleasure racing up my spine. Each thrust hits that perfect spot deep inside me, drawing breathless whimpers from my lips. My fingers scrabble for purchase against the marble floor, nails scraping against the polished surface as I struggle to brace myself against Elijah's relentless pace.

Behind me, I hear Mason's low groans of pleasure. I crane my neck to watch as Elijah works Mason's cock with his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. Mason's fingers tangle in Elijah's hair, guiding his movements. The sight is intoxicating - Elijah caught between us, giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure.

Elijah's hands grip my hips tightly, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. The pain mingles with the pleasure, heightening every sensation. I can feel the tremors running through his body, the drug still raging through his system and pushing him to new heights of arousal.

Mason's breathing grows ragged as Elijah works him with his mouth. "Fuck," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "You're so good at this, pretty boy. Such a talented mouth."

My own orgasm builds rapidly, a coiling tension in my lower belly that grows tighter with each thrust. I reach between my legs, my fingers finding my clit and circling it frantically. The added stimulation sends jolts of electricity through my body, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh god," I gasp, my voice breaking on a particularly deep thrust. "Elijah, fuck, don't stop!"

Elijah responds by redoubling his efforts, his movements becoming more frenzied. I can feel his cock swelling inside me, throbbing with each pulse of his heartbeat.

With a keening cry, I come undone. Waves of ecstasy crash over me as my pussy clenches rhythmically around Elijah's cock. Stars explode behind my eyelids, my entire body shaking with the force of my release.

Elijah fucks me through it, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own orgasm. Mason's grip on his hair tightens, holding Elijah in place as he starts to thrust into his mouth.

"Fuck," Mason groans, his voice strained. "I'm close, pretty boy. You gonna swallow it all for me?"

Elijah moans around Mason's cock, the vibrations pushing Mason over the edge. With a deep guttural groan, Mason comes, emptying himself down Elijah's throat. Elijah swallows greedily, not letting a single drop escape.

The sight and sound of Mason's release triggers Elijah's own climax. With a muffled groan, he buries himself deep inside me, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. The warmth of his cum fills me, triggering another smaller orgasm that has me crying out and clenching around him

For a long moment, we stay frozen in place, our bodies trembling with aftershocks. The only sounds are our ragged breathing and the pounding of my heart in my ears. Slowly, carefully, we disentangle ourselves. Elijah pulls out of me with a soft groan, his half hard cock slipping free. I feel his cum trickling down my thighs as I collapse onto the cool marble floor.

Mason sinks down beside us, his usual composure slightly ruffled. His hair is mussed, tie askew, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. Elijah sprawls out between us, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His golden skin is flushed.

Elijah narrows his eyes at Mason, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought you were going in to lodge an appeal," he says, his voice still rough from exertion.

Mason shrugs without a hint of embarrassment, his lips quirking into a wry smile. "I forgot my client's file," he admits. "Got distracted thinking about you, pretty boy. Didn't want to be away from you for too long."

Elijah snorts, a sound caught between disbelief and amusement. His golden skin is flushed, a rosy hue that spreads from his cheeks down his neck and across his chest. The drug is still evident in his system - his pupils remain dilated, and fine tremors run through his muscles. But there's a clarity in his gaze now that wasn't there before, as if our encounter has burned away some of the drug-induced haze.

"So, what now?" Elijah drawls, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Are you going to leave again?"

There's something vulnerable in his voice, a hint of uncertainty that belies his casual tone. His eyes flick between Mason and me, searching for... something. Reassurance, perhaps? Or signs of deception?

Mason's grin widens, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. It's a look I know well, one that never fails to send a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "Fuck the appeal," he purrs, voice filled with promise. "I'll lodge it tomorrow."

The tension in the air shifts, crackling with renewed energy. Mason's hand trails lazily up Elijah's thigh, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin. I watch, mesmerized, as goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.

"After all," Mason continues, his gaze locked onto Elijah's, "we have much more pressing matters to attend to here, don't we?"

Elijah's breath hitches, his cock twitching with interest despite his recent release. The drug is still clearly at work in his system, keeping him in a constant state of arousal. "And what matters might those be?" he asks, his voice dropping low and husky.

I shift closer, pressing my body against Elijah's side. My hand joins Mason's on Elijah's thigh, our fingers intertwining as we explore his heated skin together. "Well," I purr, nipping gently at Elijah's earlobe, "we still have several hours before that drug wears off. It would be a shame to waste it, don't you think?"