They both growl.
“We love when you’re bold,Morta. You truly are going to be the death of us, aren’t you?”
He lowers the hand he used to play with my pierced peaks, exchanging it for one of the thick, French braids that drapes above my clavicle bone. He slowly glides his fingers down the braid, just like he did moments before to my nipples, stopping at the elastic that secures my hair. Tugging down on the bottom of the braid, he secures it in his palm before wrapping it around his hand, trapping it in his demanding grasp. Once it is secured, he yanks it in a downward motion before moving it across my neck, where it adds constrained pressure to my airway.
“And would you look at that,” he begins in a breathy groan, “you wore our favorite.” Tugging on my ebony locks once more, he increases his hold so the braid is not just resting over my neck but begins to choke me. “Such a shame, Cil and I love to rein you in with these.”
“So do it,” I mutter through the pressure he maintains on my windpipe.
“Last time we checked, you are with Roberto, per Papa Reaper’s request, remember?” he says.
I try to shake my head against the wood in the hopes it will loosen the blindfold so I can see his face while he is choking me with my hair, but it doesn’t work. Instead, it only morphs my need for them into an anger-fueled desperation.
“I’m not with him. I’m only arranged to be, according to my father’s plan. But that’s not our plan,” I remind him.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he removes the gathered hair by my neck as I take in a deep breath, trying to regain focus.
I gasp when the cool brass of his rings meets the warmth of my cheeks while he gently strokes them. He continues to run his rough fingers on my face, until he slowly curls them by my eyes, finally loosening the blindfold. As the silk escapes my face, the first thing I see is his striking teal irises.
Eyes locked on mine, his jaw tenses, still not saying a word. He looks down to Cillian who, unlike Paxton, has not lessened his hold on me.
“I guess one kiss won’t kill us, right, Cil?” he asks through a seductive smirk.
A sinister expression breaks from Cillian’s stoic face. He pokes out his tongue, folding it back so the steel of his piercing is exposed. Playing with the barbell, he brings the fleshy, wet tip of his tongue inches from the lace of my thong. The heat and moisture melt off his tongue, teasing me into oblivion.
“Hmm,” he purrs, slowly retracting his tongue so that the last thing I see is the ball of his piercing go back into his mouth. Directing his response to Paxton, who still hovers my upper body, he peers into my eyes. “You’re right, one kiss won’t kill us. It may kill her, though. I don’t think ourdiosacan handle just one kiss.”
Pax unclasps the hand that has been acting as a handcuff on my wrists. Before I can move, the brass of his rings flashes before my eyes just as he wraps his large hand around my throat. The contact of his calloused skin against the delicate flesh of my neck only adds to my desire. Digging his long fingers all the way around to the back side of my neck.
I flutter my eyelashes up at his frame that towers over me with his dominant touch. With his increasing pressure, my air begins to lessen, making my vision grainy, but the deep teal of his eyes are still focused, feeling like they are searing into my soul.
“Please,” I whimper, stifling a cough. “Just. Do. It,” I beg as I try to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling at what should be an alarming rate, but I am no stranger to playing this game with him.
The way he wraps his dominant touch around me is like a collar. Thick, secure, demanding. He methodically robs me of my air, bringing me to the brink of demise and ecstasy all at once, and I live for every second of it.
He is so close that his leather vest feels like ice against the sliver of my torso peeking through my crop top. Leaning toward the shell of my ear, he gently nibbles it with his teeth before clamping down on the lobe. He applies just enough force that I whine from the rush of pain but not too hard that it takes away from the bliss of his chokehold on me.
He yanks my earlobe down between his teeth, before releasing it, bringing his lips right above my eardrum. “We are many things, sweet Lola. Depraved, sure. Criminals, hell yea. Degenerates, as some like to call us. We are all of those things and fucking more. But the one thing we are not is cheaters. I refuse to cheat my way into claiming what should have been ours, what has always been ours. Our time will come again, but visits like this, well, they jeopardize the plan,” he hisses into my ear.
“Spare me your morality. Both of you,” I say, unimpressed with the high ground they want to take, even if it’s for my own good.
Paxton increases the space between us, and for the first time since they took me to wherever we are, his hands aren’t glued to me in some way, shape, or form. He begins to lower to his knees, meeting Cillian, who has been perched by my hips, waiting patiently for Paxton to be finished dragging the inevitable out.
“Nothing about any of us, including yourself, is moral. And spare you? Hell no, not when you disobeyed us,” Paxton says, now kneeling next to Cillian, looking up at me.
“So, which set of lips do you want to spare for your one kiss?” Cillian purrs. “The ones that spew out all those smart-ass comments or the ones that have been dripping the moment we got near you?”
I don’t have a moment to answer when Cillian slips a finger past the lace of my already-soaked thong. He doesn’t need to make it far past the skimpy fabric to realize how fucking wet I am right now. The fact that he is even inspecting my arousal only increases it.
“If I were a betting man, I’d say it’s these lips.” Cillian observes as he retracts his hand from my warmth. Keeping his eyes on me, he brings his now damp finger by his mouth, sucking my gleam off.
“Fucking Christ, the two of you,” I pant.
“Shh, Lo. Now, be a good girl and shut the fuck up so we can kiss you,” Paxton says as he turns to Cillian, who slowly removes his fingers from his mouth.
Cillian lowers himself to where his lips were stationed before on the lace above my now throbbing pussy. In unison, they lean forward, extending their tongues out and keeping their eyes on me, while at the same time, they unleash a slow kiss to my clit over my thong.
I close my eyes, hoping that having a taste of me will be enough for them to throw their faux moral code aside and just fuck me like I know they want to. The heat of their mouths still by my slit makes me feel confident that they will continue, but suddenly, it stops. I look down as they still peer at me with devilish expressions painted across both of their faces.
