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Wolf makes the decision for me. He pulls a knife from somewhere and slices a long line down the length of his neck. Blood gushes and I’m closing the distance to press my mouth to the wound before I have a chance to reconsider.

Fucking Wolf is amazing.

Fucking Wolf while drinking his blood is like going from 2D to 3D. Every nerve ending lights up, even ones I’m pretty sure don’t actually exist in the physical world. His power surges into me even as he grabs my hips and fucks up into me. It’s so good. Too good. I try to hold out, to make this last, but my control is less than nothing when it comes to these men. I orgasm hard, crying out against his skin, his blood on my tongue.

He follows me over the edge, his fingers pressing so hard into my skin that I know I’ll have bruises…at least for a few minutes before my increased healing abilities take care of them.

It’s only when I’m being lifted off Wolf’s cock that I realize Malachi stopped fucking his mouth a few moments ago. And then he’s inside me, wedging his cock into me. Malachi doesn’t give me time to recover, to move, to do anything but take him. He braces one hand on my hip and one on the couch next to Wolf’s shoulder, and then he fucks me against the other man’s chest.

Wolf grabs my hair and uses his hold to maneuver my head to the side, baring my neck. It’s all the warning I get before he bites me. I orgasm instantly, already primed from everything we’ve been doing up to this point. The bastard doesn’t stop, though. He keeps sucking, timing it with Malachi’s thrusts, driving my orgasm higher and higher.

My body gives out before they do.

I collapse, held in place between them as they finish. Wolf licks my neck, a sizzling feeling there telling me that he used his own blood to heal the bite. Malachi grinds deep into me and curses, filling me up.

Maybe this will be the time I get pregnant.

I know that’s the goal, but part of me can’t help hoping that it takes a little longer. Selfish. So fucking selfish of me. I’ll feel bad about the thought later. Right now, I don’t have the energy to do more than lay against Wolf’s chest and relearn how to breathe.

This should be enough.

I have two sexy as hell vampires who have just fucked me within an inch of my life. The echoes of that last orgasm is still settling in my bones. Wanting more, craving more, is even so beyond selfish.

Wanting Rylan is the height of foolishness.

I close my eyes, and even without trying, I can feel him down the length of the bond. He’s miles away now, winging a circle with the house at the center. I might loathe the man, but my magic—my body—craves him with an unholy strength.

I wish there was someone I could talk to about seraphim. I didn’t even know they existed until a month ago, and the only one of the three vampires that seems to know anything is Rylan. Unfortunately, he isn’t talking. Or, rather, if it involves anything but icy silence or cold comments, he’s not interested. He hates the seraphim, which means any information he has will be tainted by that emotion. It might be justified—hard to argue that it isn’t—but that doesn’t mean it’s helpful.

But if there’s a seraph left alive, they’re deep in hiding. I can’t pin my hopes on finding that needle in a haystack; especially when I’m not even certain it exists. No, there’s no easy solution for me. I’m going to have to muddle through as best I can.

Malachi eases out of me and drops down on the couch next to us. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his skin, and even as exhausted as I am, I want to lick him. Gods, I can’t get enough of either of them.

He looks at us and gives that slow smile of his. “You’re both a mess.”

“It’s your fault.” I leverage myself up enough to press my fingers to the blood coating my chest from where I was rubbing against Wolf. It’s already going tacky. “Both your fault.”

“Guilty.” Wolf stretches beneath me, lifting us a few inches off the couch. “I’d say I meant to be more careful with the knife, but—”

“You’d be lying.” Despite everything, I find myself smiling at him.

“Yep.” He drags his pale gaze over me. “Besides, you look good in my blood. You should wear it more often.”

I blink. I’d say he’s joking, but the way he’s looking at me isn’t amused at all. We just fucked, and he’s staring at my body like he wants to clean me up with his mouth. “Wolf?” I don’t mean for his name to come out as a question, but it happens anyways.

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