Well and truly, our mate was extraordinary. She had done so well for her first time—
I blinked a dash of the lovestruck fog away as she cuddled into my chest.
Wasit her first time?
To take two demonic leviathan hybrids like this, in so short a time, with no tears save those of protest at the start—
No.
How could she smell so deliciously untouched if she wasn’t a virgin? Her purity saturated the air the moment she appeared in the doorway; I’d smell it a mile away. In my profession outside of the dark legion, outside of cavorting with Aedan and Cato—I steered clear of that scent. Those with it didn’t deserve my malice, my savagery, no matter how high my client bid to coax my hand.
Instinct had never led me astray before. Not with my blood brothers, my eternal bonds. Not with my work as an assassin. Not in my choice to reject the romantic advances of females who came before her.
And it surely hadn’t done me wrong with Ileana.
So, eyes closed, lost in the oblivion of her body, I caressed and cradled what I could, obsessed with her smooth skin and her curves, her muscular tone paired with soft womanhood. As soon as Cato ground down, I bucked up, our magpie caged between us, trapped in a prison of pleasure as we worked her nerves, determined not only to mark her with our scent and seed, our possessive bites destined for another night, but to ensure she plunged into the abyss at least once more before this was over.
An ivory hand suddenly delved between us, and Aedan steered her up. Not jerked or ripped or yanked. Gently, he guided Ileana upright, and Cato eased back to allow her the movement—just enough space for my blood brother to stand over me and thrust into her moaning, whimpering, whining mouth.
There.
Pleasure tightened in my core.
Fully claimed, every hole taken, our scent and our bruises all over her flesh, soon to be filled with our seed—
“Three minutes, inmates,” came the most unwelcome crackly reminder from some hidden speaker. “Don’t nut inside her.”
Fuckers. Snarls filled the room, indignance and rage blazing like an inferno with poor Ileana caught in its flames. We’d heard through the grapevine that no demon from the legion had been permitted to empty himself inside a magpie, these humans so utterly terrified of monstrous hybrids.
Or, perhaps, should a magpie fall pregnant, they lost their worth for nine long months, unable to be traded and used and bought—
I gritted my teeth, driving into her that much harder, determined to make her mine—ours—so deeply in the next three minutes that no man or beast could contest our mated bond. Cato responded in kind, grinding and grinding, as if mindful that his usual rough thrusts and brutal pumps might be too much for our Ileana. Above, Aedan’s hips jerked in sharper bursts, his ass flexed and clenched, until finally he pulled her back by her hair and spilled his seed across her bouncing breasts.
Better this way, actually, to paint her with his most intimate scent right out in the open so the rest of the legion could smell it on her when we strolled out of this place.
As soon as he stepped away, sauntering around behind Cato to block us from the windows, I locked eyes with my shadow-crowned brother. He gripped our magpie by the shoulder, really bucking into her as I rocked up to meet him, cocks sliding over one another inside her, Ileana’s eyes rolled back and her mouth hanging open, cheeks flushed and nipples so damn tempting.
But there was a more pressing matter at hand.
Do we follow the rules?
I arched an eyebrow and jutted my chin toward the door. With a gravelly hum, Cato smirked and shook his head.
Nay, then.
My lips matched his, quirked and defiant. It ended today, both our imprisonment in this tedious facility and Ileana’s captivity within her order. Rules no longer applied. No one, human nor god nor Lord Lucifer himself, could tell us how we were to mark our mate. When it was done, when we breezed through the moonlight, carrying her exhausted body over the stony paths to the waterfront, we would take her away from all this.
Allow her time to heal from whatever horrors her sad little order had inflicted on her.
Champion her ascension from magpie to queen.
It is decided.
And only a fool with a death wish would stand in our way.
We moved faster and faster, riding our darling until Cato’s rhythm faltered, bliss twisting his features and choking her name from his lips. She shuddered and flailed between us, that telltale flush streaking her chest, her cheeks, her cries squeaky and her eyes wide—and that was my undoing. Feeling her come around my cock one final time before the clock expired… Gone.
Body pulsing, I filled her with my seed, with pleasure and promise, the mating bond throttling my heart and leaving a lump the size of Purgatory in my throat.