Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Then Crane’s long lean body looms over me, positioning the lewd, long length of his cock between my legs and he starts pushing into my cunt.
I cry out, my back arching, trying to move, but with Brom holding me in place from behind and Crane pressing down on me from the front, I’m trapped between them like a firefly in a jar.
“Stay still, my vlinder,” Crane says through a stifled groan as he pushes inside. “Stay still.” His head drops down, the muscles in his arms straining. “Oh, fuck Brom, I can feel you inside her. She’s so tight.”
Brom grunts in my ear, then runs his lips down the rim. “Relax, daffy,” he says breathlessly. “You can take us both. Relax. We’ve got you.”
Brom then brings his mouth to my neck and starts to suck and bite at my skin, his beard scratching me, his hands moving down from my arms and to my waist, taking a hold of me there. “That’s it, Kat. Oh sweetheart, you feel so good,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.”
That’s enough for Crane to raise his head and spear Brom with his gaze as he pushes into the hilt. I gasp, the air pushed out of my throat, while Brom whimpers with need.
“Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye, Brom,” Crane warns him. “Stay with me, pretty boy. You stay with us. Keep fucking our sweet witch, yes, just like that.”
Crane starts to move deeper and harder inside of me, and Brom starts thrusting up my ass in unison, and I let myself go. I let go of the fear, of the terror of the shadowed faces that have gathered around us, of the idea that this might not work, of the horror that I might lose these men, of the panic that lies in bringing me so close to death that I’ll be able to taste it.
“That’s it,” Brom rasps against me, kissing my shoulder, my neck, the side of my cheek. “Yes, oh fuck. Kat, Kat, you’re doing so good.”
“Such a good witch,” Crane murmurs as he continues to drive his hips against mine, so hard I think he’s leaving bruises, his cock going in deeper each time until all I feel is them, all I am is these two feral men inside me, both loving me and fighting over me. Fighting for me.
“Not much longer,” Crane groans, and he leans in and down, his chest pressed against mine, his mouth crashing over my mouth. He pulls me into a deep, intoxicating kiss that feels like it’s infiltrating every part of my body until I’m dying for more, my hunger insatiable now.
Then he pulls away, wet and messy, and brings his head down over my shoulder and starts kissing Brom, just as hard and wild. I hear their shaking exhales, their soft moans, and I bite Crane’s shoulder, wanting a piece of him still, my fingernails digging into his smooth, muscular back. The three of us move in unison now, writhing together in the water like the unholiest of creatures.
One body, one beating heart, one damned soul.
“It’s time,” Crane whispers thickly, pulling back enough to wrap his hand around my neck, squeezing on either side of my throat with his fingers and heel of his palm. I stare up at him, unable to look away from the fervent storm in his eyes, and while he applies the pressure to my neck, he starts reciting the spell, the same strange low words from the ritual before.
Stay with me, Kat, Crane says inside my head, though his lips are still moving, still chanting the foreign incantation. Stay with me even when it seems like I disappear.
I try to nod but I can’t. I can’t breathe. Already my vision is going grey and fuzzy at the corners, dots appearing in the middle between us. I see Crane and then I don’t really see him anymore and the world starts to slip away as my lungs burn and I start to panic.
Then the hands come.
Dozens of hands.
They reach up over me, cold as sin, and grab my ankles, my calves, my thighs. They dig their long fingers into my hands, my arms, my head.
They are the dead and they want me.
They’re going to take me away right when I’m held between the two men that I love.
“Make her come, pretty boy.”
The voice sounds far away, it sounds like it belongs to another time, another place. All I feel are the cold hands wanting to drag me down into the grave, the panic of not being able to breathe starting to fade into nothingness and peace.
“She’s gone limp, Crane,” the other voice cries out. “Save her, save her.”
Suddenly I feel a hard slap against me. Then another.
A mix of pleasure and pain.