Page 47

Balkazar’s bleary, icy blue eyes were fixed to Sinadim’s face as the war chief stroked life back into his cock.

Grinning at his rival—his brother—Sinadim pressed his lips to the shell of one fuzzy ear without breaking eye contact, and asked, “Can you take another, brave girl?”

She mewled, arching her back beneath him. Tilting her hips up, back, eager to make room for more.

A sound the prince took as permission.

Going to his knees, pinning her back to his chest, he lifted his prize from her soiled nest with one arm looped beneath her hips. Let Balkazar look at where the lips of her cunt had gone bloodless and pale as they stretched to swallow his girth.

“Insatiable little slut,” Balkazar rasped, and his knuckles went white when he squeezed the flare of his mushroom crown. Forcing a pearlescent drop to bead at his slit.

Sinadim nodded. “She needs more,” he returned, setting his lips to her nape. Playing at the sinew where she’d one day be marked by a male of her species. Breeding a new generation of pure-blooded Hathorians to serve the Anhur.

“Can’t imagine her taking much more than that knot,” the war chief returned, gazing at the spot where the prince was locked behind her pelvic bone. At the bulge sitting just above her swollen, pulsing clit.

Sinadim’s grin grew feral, and without another word, he shuffled between Balkazar’s spread thighs. Nudging them further apart to make room for the perversion he meant to enact.

Arranging slender thighs across Balkazar’s belly, high above his hips, Sinadim set her down. Careful not to disturb her orgasmic stupor before he’d pushed her back to the peak.

“Brother, what⁠—”

Sinadim snarled low in his throat, mane flaring to silence the war chief without bothering to speak.

And then, fingers circling his knot at the base, he worked himself back. Breaking the seal that kept her corked with his royal essence, the prince let his seed gush from overwrought depths.

Soaking Balkazar’s cock and balls with a gush of sperm and slick.

“She needs more,” Sinadim droned, quiet as he worked. Eyes fixed to the sight unfolding beneath him. And, without a second thought, he reached between Balkazar’s thighs and took obscene liberties. Seizing the other male in his palm, he guided the war chief’s angry prick to the seam already stuffed and overflowing. “Let’s see how much my brave girl can take.”

“By the Nine—” Breath catching, Balkazar’s head arched back as he struggled to crush a moan between his molars. Teeth clenched. Cock flexing where it sat in the heat of Sinadim’s palm.

“Hold her arms,” Sinadim commanded. “At the elbow. Yes, just like that,” he murmured. “Keep them pinned behind her back.”

Sweating, his every muscle flexed, Balkazar squeezed his eyes shut and said, “D’you really think”—a groan broke through the war chief’s composure—“b-both of us?” Shuddering as Sinadim set Balkazar’s tip beneath his own, Balkazar gushed as his prince set him in place. “Can she take t-two knots?”

Sinadim shrugged. “She can take one.”

“But—” Balkazar hissed, claws extending to dimple her elbows when Sinadim eased back far enough to leave her gaping where he wasn’t. Enough to tuck the head of Balkazar’s weeping prick into that void. “But d’you think she can handle us b-both?”

For a moment, Sinadim ignored the question he had no answer for. Focused instead, on pressing her hips down, impaling her onto the war chief’s engorged pole as his own dick held her open.

And then, simply, “Let’s find out.”

14

The Razie weren’t the first to know the answer to such a taboo question, but when they dug through the sands to find where their prince was ensconced in a nest, they came upon a scene not even the Nine might describe.

Sweat gleaming across broad shoulders, muscles working in a seamless glide as he indulged the last of his rut, the prince was wild. Unhinged. Tail a bristling banner of pure, Anhur dominance, he fucked his girl with reckless abandon.

But he wasn’t alone.

His was not the only cock crammed inside that sacred sheath meant to birth armies.

Stretched wide as she might go, elbows pinned behind her back, her tongue lolled from slack jaws while a steady stream of creamy juices squirted from her depths. Worked free with every plunge Sinadim forced inside.

Beneath them both, a rigid pillar of straining muscle, Balkazar was buried to the hilt. Clinging to control with the tips of his claws as sweat poured freely from reddened skin.

The war chief seemed almost… pained as Sinadim’s girth pummeled in next to his. Driving Balkazar to complete stillness, even as his knot began to swell and the tide of the battle turned against the war chief.