My heart pounds as my mind reels.
I’m a human girl in the presence of immortal men. What could I possibly offer them?
Seven’s steady hands push up and down my hips, his touch comforting, but he doesn’t offer me more. It feels a little like a pass-or-fail moment. If I pass, I’ll forever have three beautifully powerful men in a ruthless kingdom where I desperately need allies.
If I fail... I’ll die.
Rorrick’s heavy gait comes forward like he can’t stand to see me squirm anymore. He takes my hand.
“Come on. You don’t have to prove anything. Let’s get you inside and clean you up.” His rumbling tone holds an exhausted air about it.
I feel that feeling deep in my chest too.
But I can’t look away from the challenge glinting in Christian’s wicked gaze.
And so, with Seven holding my hips, I lean forward. My hands plant on Rorrick’s lean hips. I look up at him, and there’s a flaring wildness in his deep-green eyes.
“Take off your shirt,” I command, but it comes out hoarse and quiet.
Rorrick doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t say a word. A heated tension sparks but he’s not sure. As for Seven, his fingers tense into my hips so hard, it hurts. I shift only once, and a hardness forms ever so slowly against my ass. His groan is the only sound. The tension in his hands is even firmer as he rocks my hips back and forth against himself. The memory of his hungry mouth against my sex flits through my mind and tingles over every inch of my skin as a gasp tears from my throat. He doesn’t stop until my heat is fully grinding over the hard outline of his cock.
Rorrick might overthink and hesitate every moment of his life, but Seven won’t.
He knows how easily life can be ripped away. And he’s clearly not going to waste a single second.
The gasp that shudders over my lips when Seven thrusts his hips up hard is what sets Rorrick into motion. That single sound of erotic desperation does it in for him. He doesn’t waste time with the shining buttons that line his shirt. His big arms lift, and he grips the collar at the back of his thick neck. The hem rises little by little, revealing smooth, solid muscle and jagged scars across his golden skin. Every part of his body is big with a strength that could crush bones if he’s not careful.
Or gentle. Tender. Like he is with me.
My thumbs sweep back and forth across the hard veering lines that disappear beneath his black pants. And just there is a deep healing wound, pink with a freshness that hurts to look at. I lean into him even more, and the smooth muscles of his abs jump beneath my palms as I press a slow kiss to the jagged scar there.
I lean forward even more and kiss slow open-mouthed kisses down the hard lines of his body. Seven’s fingers splay across my curves as my ass lifts higher, and my head dips lower. The smooth button at the top of Rorrick’s pants is pushed aside. A bulge presses beneath my palm as I feel him growing impatient despite how controlled he always seems. I tease him through the thin material, pushing across the thickness of his shaft before skimming over the head of his cock. A slight dampness forms against the black cloth, and my sex throbs at the thought of it.
When his fingers push through my hair, I lower for him. The fabric separating us is pushed down, and when the head of his cock bobs free, I can’t help the surprised sigh that slips from my lips. Veins pulse across his shaft, his size throbbing even larger when my lips graze the very tip.
I pause only for a second at the impossible size of him. I grip him lightly, but my fingers don’t even come close to meeting when I stroke down his thickness ever so slowly.
I swallow only once, and I know I won’t be able to take all of it, but I want him even more now that I have him in the palm of my hand. My lips part, my tongue swirling over the drop of wetness at his tip before sliding down as far as I can. When he hits the back of my throat, a hissing groan rumbles through his chest, the rough sound pulsing through my sex and straight to my clit.
Rough fabric pushes up over my hips, inch by inch exposing more and more of myself until nothing at all covers my sex from the hot evening air.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Crymson,” Seven whispers, his words fanning across my curves as his long fingers dig into the very lowest part of my ass, spreading me open for him and sending a spiral of energy all through my core. “Fuck, you smell good.”
And then sharp teeth graze over sensitive skin before the flat of his tongue slides fully across my sex.
An uncontrollable sound hums through me and around Rorrick’s cock before he shoves the back of my head down even more, gagging me and making me crazy all at the same time. When I slide down his length once more, and he shoves down hard again, tears stream down my face, and I greedily milk the base of his shaft with my hand to make up for what my mouth can’t have.
“Fucckk.” His curse bites through the air, fading away the violent sounds of screams and growls. All I feel is them. All I hear is them. They’re all that I want too. And I didn’t even realize it until I had them.
Something slithers down my arms, wrapping round and round. They pull tight, and my arms are flung backward. With my arms pulled wide at both sides, I’m strung up like a cross but still mostly seated on Seven’s lap. Fear stings up my throat, and I look around for only a second. By just my wrists, I hang suspended between Seven and Rorrick, long, weaving vines holding my weight where I’m leaned out into thin air.
It’s a magic that’s woven into nature. And that sure as hell can’t be a vampire’s magic. My hooded eyes narrow on the Blood Prince.
Christian stands suddenly at my side, appearing as if from thin air. Those inky veins crawl out from the blood-red darkness in his eyes again. He looks down on me with a sinister smile. With one long finger, he trails down the length of the vine that he somehow created. His fingers toy with mine.
When he speaks, his voice is heady but commanding.
“Don’t stop, Pretty Pet.”