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“Add another finger,” Taj instructs. “And another. As many as she can take.”
Oh Goddess…
Two more fingers slide into me, stretching me, and at any other time it would be painful but after taking the others’ cocks in me, it’s just right. When I clench around his fingers, Finnen bares his teeth, body arching, his cock twitching and jerking against my belly.
He’s so beautiful.
And I cry out as my entire body tightens at the sight and feel of him, at this vulnerable side of him, his desire to pleasure me, the way it feeds into his own.
I don’t even react when Taj and Kiaran move behind me and come all over my back with loud grunts, painting it with their cum, because all I can see right now, riding the waves of my orgasm, is Finnen finding his own pleasure.
He’s still thrusting his fingers inside me, but the movement has become jerky and jagged, his cock thick and hot against my belly. Arching up, he rubs it up and down, eyes shut, lips parted, his other hand a fist in the bedcovers. Back and forth, rubbing his swollen erection over my slick skin, groans rumbling from his chest, pale hair spread around his head, glinting like silver in the flickering light of the oil lamp.
Suddenly, he lets out a long moan, like a wounded animal, and his cock spasms, spewing cum all over my breasts, my neck, even my chin. His gaze follows the trail and he comes again, another spurt that crisscrosses over the first one.
“Gods,” he pants, his powerful body relaxing finally against the mattress, his head rolling back, his fingers slipping out of me, his cock shrinking between our bodies. “Oh Gods…”
If he was beautiful before, now he’s breathtaking.
I hope the gods are watching.
15
FINNEN
The evening passes in lapses of time, scenes as if described in a book. It’s as if it’s someone else’s life I’m observing, not mine. I feel detached, floating somewhere in a corner of the ceiling, looking down at this group of people in the small, poorly lit room. Three men, one of them looking like me lying on his back on the bed, a pretty girl over him, and his face rapt as he comes, losing all control, all sense of propriety, breaking all vows.
The relief is indescribable.
The shame hasn’t left me entirely—I’m not the kind of man to change his views in the blink of an eye—but the doubts have retreated to another corner, far from me.
My omega, I think. She’s mine. They are all mine, these people in the room.
My mind is starting to harmonize with my body. All that rigid discipline is mostly physical, tactile memory, and now I’m replacing it with pleasure, with real human touch, and I could fucking cry at how good it feels.
Snap, snap.
I’m lying on the bed, staring blindly up at the ceiling, tears in my eyes I fucking refuse to let fall.
Her scent is all over me, everywhere, warm and sweet, and now I’ve found my release… comforting.
But then the scene snaps to the guys pulling me off the bed and back to the bath. The water is tepid but as Taj pushes me to sit down in it, Kiaran is lowering Ariadne across from me, her scent giving her away, and I’m confused as to what they might want.
I can’t see her anymore, and it saddens me, but then hands brush over my arms and a wet washcloth is run over me. Another comfort I’m not used to, as Taj cleans me up from sweat and filth, from my cum and her slick.
My head falls back against the rim of the tub.
Is this really me? Floating on a cloud of calm and pleasure, muscles held tight too long relaxing, my limbs growing heavy as lead. Soft splashing tells me that Kiaran must be cleaning her the same way, and her leg brushes against mine, sending a jolt of renewed awareness through me.
My cock valiantly tries to rally and harden, but my body isn’t up to this.
I almost laugh at the pun.
At the madness.
At the rightness of it.
Maybe I doze off. Maybe I pass the fuck out, I don’t know. The only time I recall ever passing out was when I fell during ritual practice when I was younger and cracked my head on the floor.
