Page 64 of To The Final End
I cry out as he sinks in, inch by impossible inch, my body struggling to accommodate both of them. Seth is groaning behind me, his grip bruising on my hips, and I can tell from the way he’s shaking that he can feel Thane’s cock sliding against his own.
“So full,” I gasp. “I’m so full, I can’t—”
“You can.” Thane’s voice is strained but certain. “You’re taking us so well. Just a little more.”
He bottoms out, and for a moment, all three of us just breathe.
The room has gone quiet. I’m dimly aware of the others watching—Gray with Wes still tucked against him on the couch, Stellan’s hand frozen on Wes’s ankle, Rhett leaning forward in his chair, Jace for once in his life not saying a word. Theo’s eyes are dark and fixed on us like he’s memorizing every detail.
“Holy fuck,” Jace finally breathes. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Shutup, Jace,” I manage, but there’s no heat in it.
“Never.” But his voice is rougher than usual, awed instead of teasing.
I’ve never felt anything like this. Two cocks inside me, stretching me to my limit, pressed so tightly together they can feel every twitch and pulse of each other. When Seth shifts, Thane groans. When Thane clenches, Seth swears. We’re connected—all three of us—in the most intimate way possible.
“Move,” I beg. “Please, I need you to move.”
They start slowly, carefully—Seth pulling back as Thane pushes in, Thane withdrawing as Seth thrusts up. The friction is unreal, both of them dragging against my inner walls, never leaving me empty. I’m making sounds I don’t recognize, high desperate keening noises, my nails raking down Thane’s back.
“Faster,” I plead. “Harder. I can take it.”
“You sure?” Seth’s voice is barely controlled.
“Fuck me.”
Something snaps.
They stop being careful. Thane slams into me as Seth drives up, and Iscream—not in pain, in overwhelming pleasure. They find a brutal rhythm, alternating thrusts that keep me constantly full, constantly stimulated, every nerve ending in my body on fire.
“That’s it,” Thane growls against my ear. “Take us. Take everything we give you. You were made for this—made to be filled by us, fucked by us,ownedby us—”
“Yes—” I can barely speak, can barely think. “Yes, yes, please—”
Seth’s hand finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles as they fuck me, and something inside me snaps.
Not breaks—releases.
The orgasm doesn’t crash over me. It pulls me under. My vision whites out, my hearing goes distant, and my body stops being mine. I’m shaking—or maybe convulsing—clamping down on both of them so hard they groan in unison, but I can’t respond because I’m nothereanymore. I’m just sensation. Just nerve endings firing and muscles clenching and wave after wave after wave that won’t stop coming.
Somewhere far away, I hear myself making sounds. Not words. Not moans. Something raw and broken and animal.
Tears are streaming down my face. I can feel them, hot and wet, but I can’t stop them. Can’t stop any of it. My body is moving on autopilot—clenching, rolling, taking—while the rest of me floats somewhere outside of it, shattered into pieces I’m not sure I can put back together.
“Jesus Christ,” someone says. Jace, maybe. Or Rhett. I can’t tell.
“She’s gone,” Seth breathes against my neck, awed. “Thane, she’s completely—”
“I know.” Thane’s voice is wrecked. “I can feel it.Fuck, I can feel everything.”
“Fuck, I can’t—” Seth’s rhythm stutters.
Seth buries himself deep and comes with a shout, his cock pulsing, flooding me with heat. The sensation of his release triggers Thane—I feel him swell impossibly bigger before he slams in one final time and spills.
Two cocks throbbing inside me. Two loads of come filling me at once. The bond blazes so bright I can’t see, can’t think, can’tdo anything but shake through an orgasm that seems to last forever.
From the couch, Wes makes a broken sound and the Feeder magic spikes one final time, pleasure echoing through all of us, connecting us, binding us together.
