I grabbed Pain’s arm, dug into his skin.
“Too much?” he asked against my neck.
“She can take more,” Miz disagreed, kissing the back of my neck, pulling me closer until I was flush between them both. “Can’t you, Cat?”
I nodded.
“The words, my universe,” he prompted in a voice like steel.
“I can take more,” I breathed, my eyes widening when both shadows surged deeper inside me, the one in my ass stretching, growing.
“That’s our good girl,” Death praised, clasping my hand and feathering kisses over my knuckles, my fingertips. “You look so beautiful stretched around Pain’s shadows. Tell me how it feels.”
“Good,” I breathed as his shadows swelled, pressing on a spot that made my eyes roll back. “So good. I can—I can feel—” A whimper bit off the rest of my words.
Madde smiled as he completed my thought. “They’re cold, so she can feel everywhere they touch. It’s driving her insane. But,” he added significantly, “she wants your cocks instead. And mine.” He tacked on the last part rather smugly. “But today, I think I’ll use my cum to pain your body instead of the prettiest pussy in the world.”
His words were undoing me. He spoke my thought before I could voice it.
“If you don’t get inside her soon, she’s going to kill all of us.”
Pain laughed, taunting me with another deep swirl of both shadows before they withdrew. He didn’t make me wait, even though I could sense his desire to draw this out until I really was provoked to murder.
“Miz, I need—”
A moment, I was going to say. He grazed his teeth across the nape of my neck and sank them deep, distracting me for a moment as every sense in my body overloaded. Of course, he didn’t give me a moment. He was my obsessive, impatient, all-consuming, possessive husband. I should have known he’d stretch me around his cock at the first chance, working his length into my ass with shallow, sanity-shredding thrusts the second the tip was sucked inside.
“You don’t need to talk, my universe,” he said with sugar-coated wickedness. “Just take what your husbands give you.”
“I wish I was a painter,” Madde sighed. “This would make such a pretty, debauched renaissance painting.”
I would have loved to reply to that, but I didn’t have a brain anymore. Miz and Pain fucked it out of me, until I was a writhing, moaning, overstimulated creature of instinct.
Pleasure gathered like an earthquake, first in warning tremors through my inner muscles, then a snap of sensation that made my hips buck, until finally every part of me quaked. My hands tightened on the skin they grasped, fingernails scoring marks as both holes bore down on my husbands’ cocks, every throb sending a burst of pleasure to collapse what remained of my thought power, and when they followed me over the edge, their groans were so hot I thought I would fly out of my skin.
“I’m not moving,” Pain panted, his head on my shoulder, his cock softening within me. “I don’t think Icanmove.”
“That’s what I said,” I groaned, nuzzling my face against his hair, a deep sigh billowing from me when Miz’s arms slipped between us, cuddling me close.
“Hey, move your ass, pretty boy,” Madde said, shoving at Pain. “I have a masterpiece to make.”
Pain reluctantly withdrew and rolled off me, but he huddled close until his front pressed to my side, our breaths sharing space.
And Madness, my beloved, utterly insane mate didn’t simply ‘paint’ me with his cum, the tendons in his neck strained, his body a carnal masterpiece in its own right. Lithe and freckled, slender and full of beautiful lines as his neck arched, his eyes heavy lidded, lips parted on a chorus of moans.
He gripped his cock, stroking as he came, moving his tip in patterns over my skin.
Writing his name.
CHAPTER 12
CAT
Ibarely noticed the journey from Bridestones Moor to Ford. Mist engulfed the rock-strewn hill around the house and from that plume emerged five enormous shadow shire horses. Their eyes shone crimson, casting a bloodied glow through the fog, and shadows scattered around their hooves with every step. They stood far taller than me, taller even than Death, and it should have been impossible to mount them, but like everything else with my death gods, magic made it possible. The scent of blood and brimstone thickened when I was mounted, the horse beneath me both solid and insubstantial. A gift from my husbands, my mates.
After hours of nightmares—Madde’s plan to knock me out with orgasms only worked for an hour—the gesture made me weepy. So did the way the sweet girl bumped her nose against my hand, instantly accepting me as her rider. Even though I was human, mortal, and a mess, she didn’t hesitate to nibble my palm or butt her head against my side.
I named her Fuzzball, to the complaints of every one of my men. But I’d tossed and turned all night, my head full of everything that happened in Cruelty’s manor, and everything that had happened at Ford before it. I spenthoursthinking about Honey and Byron and the gory wound their loss had left in my chest, so it was only natural to name this new friend something that made me remember my old friends. Woven among the memories of their fear, their secrets, and their lies were countless sleepovers watching the Cornetto Trilogy, making god-awful smoothies in the blender, and daring each other to drink them. A Hot Fuzz related name was necessary. And anyway, she seemed to like it.
