“Fuck,” I hiss, feeling sweat break out across my forehead as I sink deeper.
The dual sensations threaten to unravel my composure. Keira’s slick walls stretching impossibly to accommodate both of us, and the unmistakable friction of his cock sliding against mine inside her—both sensations amplified by Keira’s confession, by the weight of her gaze as she watches me.
I lean forward, capturing Keira’s mouth with mine. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue, claiming rather than caressing. When she gasps, opening wider for me, I pull back enough to gather saliva in my mouth. Without warning, I spit directly into her parted lips, watching as her eyes widen then darken with arousal.
“That’s it, take it like the filthy little slut you are,” I growl, watching her swallow without hesitation. “You’re nothing but a hole for us to use, aren’t you?”
Instead of being offended, Keira moans, her pussy clenching around both our cocks like a vise. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice wrecked with need. “I’m yours to use however you want.”
“Listen carefully,” I command, gripping her chin with one hand. “We’re both going to breed this tight pussy together once you come. Fill you up so full of our cum you’ll be dripping for days.”
My free hand moves to her breast, fingers finding her nipple and pinching hard enough to make her back arch. Cyrus mirrors my action on her other breast, the synchronized assault overwhelming her.
“Fuck!” Keira screams, her entire body going rigid between us. Her pussy constricts violently around our cocks, the pressure so intense it feels like she might actually snap us in half. Her orgasm ripples through her in violent waves, each contraction milking us for all we’re worth.
The dual sensations—Keira’s pulsing heat and Cyrus’s rigid length sliding against mine—hurtle me toward release. I lock eyes with Cyrus over her shoulder, both of us recognizing the exact moment the other crosses that threshold.
We come together, our timing perfect as always, pumping our seed deep inside her stretched pussy. Our cocks pulse in unison, filling her with wave after wave of cum while she continues to shudder.
We remain locked together for several moments, our breathing ragged and synchronized. Finally, I pull out first, watching our combined release seep from her stretched opening.
“Time to get you cleaned up, little dancer,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.
Cyrus withdraws next, steadying Keira as she wobbles slightly. “And then packed.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Packed?”
“You’re coming home with us,” I state matter-of-factly, tucking myself away. “Where you will stay for the next year.”
Cyrus’s hand slides possessively around her waist. “The Hunt’s rules are clear. We claimed you, which means you belong to us until the next Hunt begins.”
I watch her process this information. According to the contract she signed, this is expected—the claiming period extends beyond the three-day Hunt at the hunter’s discretion if they stake their claim at the claiming ceremony.
“A year,” I repeat, tasting the word. It should feel like an eternity—we’ve never kept anyone beyond a week or two after the Hunt before. Yet as I look at Keira, standing there with our release still glistening on her thighs, her eyes both defiant and aroused, I’m struck by the sudden, unsettling realization that a year won’t be nearly enough.
The thought ambushes me. A year of having her in our home, in our bed. A year of watching her move, hearing her voice, feeling her body respond to our touch. And then what? She walks away? Returns to her life as if nothing happened?
Something cold and hard settles in my chest at the thought.
17
CYRUS
Icarry Keira into our penthouse, her body cradled against my chest. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sleek, open-concept space, but I don’t give her time to explore. Not yet.
“Later,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple. “First, bed.”
Ace walks ahead, pushing open the double doors to our bedroom. The massive California king dominates the space, black sheets already turned down. I place Keira in the center, watching as she sinks into the mattress, her dark hair fanning out across our pillows. Something primal roars to life in my chest at the sight.
“Stay,” I command, my voice rough with need. “We’ll be back.”
In the kitchen, I pull ingredients from the refrigerator and set water to boil. Ace leans against the counter, watching me with that infuriating smirk of his.
“What are you doing?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone.
I crack eggs into a bowl. “Making breakfast.”
“Since when do you cook for our conquests?”
