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Lords of Mercy: Chapter 21

Killian

I deserve a medal for being this patient.

There’s an ache in my balls that’s spent the last ten minutes fanning out, settling around my back molars from all the teeth grinding. Story already looks absolutely wrecked, her pupils blown as Rath fucks into her. Everywhere I touch her—hands gliding over her hips, cupping her tits, skating up to cradle her cheek—is searing hot, and fuck, I can’t wait to get my dick inside her. I want to fill her up, pussy and ass, claiming every inch of her body for the Lords.

It’s feral and territorial, zinging through my blood like a sickness. That’s how I feel. Sick to the very marrow of my being. And the only cure is the way I’m rubbing my cock between the lips of her drenched pussy.

“Slow down,” I growl, letting my foot drop off the couch to give me leverage. “I need to get inside you.”

I know when she braces her knees that she’s ready for me, but Rath is just as lost as I want to be. He’s huffing against her cheek, knocking her body forward with a pointed thrust. Story spreads her hands out, palms digging into my chest. I steady her hips and watch her mouth part, wide eyes gaping down at me.

“Oh, god, he’s so deep,” she gasps, teeth sinking into her lip.

Tristian, ever watchful, lays his hand on Rath’s shoulder and says, “Slow down, brother. Let him get in there.”

Their movements abate just enough for me to nudge around with the head of my cock, but I don’t push inside. Not until her eyes finally settle on mine, dazed and heavy. I watch every twitch of muscle in her face as I plant my heels, finally driving my dick up into her. The angle is difficult, but when it comes to her, I’m used to making do, stealing whatever I can grab and savoring it like a drug. I clutch her hips, dragging her closer as I slowly impale her on my cock.

Her jaw gapes open in a long burst of panted breaths, and I don’t say anything when her nails dig into my shoulders. “Killian,” she gasps, face screwing up. “I don’t—I don’t know if I can take—”

“Yes, you can,” I grit out, meeting Rath’s eyes over her shoulder. I can tell from the strained look on his face he’s feeling me in there, her body crowding us together, clutching onto us as we make her full.

Tristian’s hand is curled around the base of her neck, and he leans in to whisper dark, dirty encouragements into her ear. “Just breathe, sweetheart. He’s almost all the way in. I know Killer’s thick, but you were made for this. You were made to take them.”

She nods frantically, her nails stinging as they embed into my flesh. “Just…just let me…” She wriggles her little hips around, adjusting and rocking, until—

“Oh, motherfuck.” I still her, grunting as she bottoms out, and I barely have time to enjoy that overwhelmed look on her face before Tristian is ducking in to kiss her.

“So good,” he pants against her mouth, shoulder jerking as he fists himself. “So fucking good for us.”

She gulps in huge, fast breaths, her chest swelling and caving with each one. “I can’t believe I’m…it’s so much.”

“You look perfect,” Tristian says, and from the brush of his wrist against my thigh, I assume he’s giving Rath a tap. “They’re going to fuck you now, sweetheart. Ease down.” He pushes at her back and her elbows buckle, but when she collapses against my chest, I catch her, winding my arms around her back. Tristian pets her hair. “You don’t need to do a thing. Just let them do the work.”

With that, Tristian gives me and Rath the signal, nodding.

Rath’s the first to move, pulling his hips back and then surging forward. I hiss, because I feel it. Every fucking inch of his cock as it retreats and digs back, dragging against me through the wet wall of her pussy. She buries a soft noise into my throat, and I tighten my arms around her as I move my hips, only getting a couple inches of my cock out before driving it back into her.

Now, it’s Rath’s turn to hiss, our eyes meeting over her shoulder.

It takes a minute for us to fall into rhythm. His thrust, then mine. His, then mine. I know when he looks at me, he’s letting me set the pace, probably too lost in the tightness of her ass to trust himself with it. So I make it slow at first, indulging myself in her little cries against my neck as Rath and I take our turns fucking into her.

“What’s it like?” Tristian asks, and the low, guttural sound of his voice makes me look over, getting an eyeful of his fist sliding up and down on his cock.

“Better,” I pant, jerking her body down as my hips snap up. “Better than I expected.”

It’s quiet after that, nothing but our harsh breaths and Story’s strained cries as she holds on and takes it. And fuck, that’s exactly what she does. She takes it when the pace ratchets up, Rath following as my thrusts grow deeper, more pointed. His pupils are so dilated, they look black as they move from me to her ass, over and over, like he’s thinking, ‘If you could see this, you’d blow your load’.

And he’s probably right.

I think we’re all shocked when Story begins making those sounds.

They’re tense, sharp sounds, her hand slapping around until it finds something to claw into the crown of my hair. We’re shocked because we know those sounds. We’ve heard them against our ears as we fucked her, pushed into the air as we ate her pussy, buried into a pillow as we slammed into her from behind.

I give Rath a warning look.

Don’t you change a fucking thing.

Tristian edges closer to be a little more explicit about it. “Jesus Christ, she’s close.”

Rath looks like he’s barely clinging to sense, the line of his jaw so tense that he speaks through his teeth. “You gonna come on our dicks, baby?”

She answers with a writhe of her hips, grinding down as I bottom out. “Don’t stop, don’t—”

“Come for us, little sister,” I say against her temple. “Let go. We’ve got you.” My muscles coil as I hang on, feeling the rush of wetness, the swell of Rath’s dick in her ass, Tristian’s loud breaths as he watches, enraptured.

Story comes with a scream.

Her body wracks with a shudder that makes me clamp down tight, crushing her to my chest as Rath and I finish her off with hard, punishing thrusts. Tristian leans down to soothe her through it, even though his voice is strained and his words are getting so fucking filthy.

“… can’t wait to come down your throat as you take their loads. Then you’ll really be ours, won’t you? We’re going to pump you so full of our cum…”

Everything’s a little more complicated once she’s gone limp, so open and wet that it’s impossible to hold ourselves back. Rath curls over her back and shoves her into me with the punch of his hips. I answer back by bucking hard, slamming her up into him. It’s a conversation, a game of push and shove that Tristian only wishes he could be a part of.

Which is why it’s no surprise when he inches forward and nudges her shoulder. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

She opens her bleary eyes, lashes wet, but when she catches sight of Tristian’s dick, bobbing stiffly over my shoulder, she doesn’t miss a beat. Prying her fingers from the cushion, she levers herself up and reaches for him.

“That’s it,” he says, guiding her head. “Kiss it.”

She does, but it’s more tongue than lips, sloppy and tired, but no less enthusiastic. Tristian is the one to push it into her mouth, pulling her onto him until I can hear her struggling breaths. I take the chance to palm at her heavy tits, Rath and I not slowing as we watch Tristian fuck her throat.

It hits me that this is it.

It took us a long time to get here—years—but the pieces we set into motion all those years ago have finally come together. Rath’s heavy breathing and Tristian’s soft encouragements are mixed with the soft hums coming from Story’s throat. We’re all inside her, fucking her, using her and claiming her, and it’s just like Tristian said before. Making her ours. It flows between us in an energy we could probably never explain to someone else. Through the wet sounds and ragged grunts, we’re all connected. Unified. For some reason that isn’t apparent to me yet, I get the feeling that there’s no going back. None of us could be whole again without the other three. This is matrimony disguised as dirty, hardcore fucking.

I’m the first to lose it, my toes curling as I watch her throat swell with Tristian’s cock. It’s more my awareness of it all than the act itself, although the way Rath’s dick is shifting against mine certainly doesn’t fucking help matters.

I come with a soft, plaintive grunt that I’ll deny until I die, which is why I miss Tristian’s hand shooting out, clutching onto the arm of the couch as he follows. Rath doesn’t pause as he feels me pumping my cum into her, but he does crush her against me. His dick snugged up to mine through the barrier between us.

That’s when I see Story. The wildfire in her eyes. Her tongue swiping out to catch Tristian’s cum, dripping down her chin. Unthinkingly, I surge forward and kiss her, my tongue pushing it deep in her mouth, because I haven’t forgotten her request.

“I don’t want you coming anywhere else but inside me.”

Tristian’s hand presses against my neck, urging me closer. But there is no closer. I’m in her mouth, in her pussy, her tits rocking against my chest as Rath fucks her. I feel every one of his thrusts, and when our eyes meet over Story’s head, I know he’s close. His jaw tightens and his teeth bear down on his bottom lip. He’s teetering on the edge, but he wants to make sure we’re done. People don’t know that about Rath—that he’s never content taking something until he knows everyone else has gotten theirs.

“Your turn.” I clutch Story against me, using my remaining strength to hold her for him. “Fill her up.”

Rath looks relieved and crazed as he rears back on his knees, getting a good hold on her hips as he punches into her. I stare at the ‘S’ carved in his chest, and a strange swell of emotion catches me. This woman trusts us enough to defile her in any way we want. To love her in the only way we know how. Hard, angry, and intense.

Tristian drops to his knees. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Your face, your pussy, your ass. Rath’s almost there. Can you take it?”

She nods, an agonized furl creasing into her brow. “Yes.”

“I know you can.” Tristian kisses her, running his hand up and down her back, until Rath’s hips abruptly stop, his spine going rigid. I hold on to her, readying her for that final slam into her ass. It comes with Rath curling over her back, mouth pressed to her shoulder as he comes. I must feel him the same way he felt me, the pulsation of his cock against mine as he shoots deep into her ass. It isn’t until the muscles in his neck tighten that I realize Rath’s not mouthing her shoulder.

He’s sinking his teeth into the flesh.

It’s punctuated with Story’s sharp gasp, her head snapping up, eyes slammed closed. But it’s all so quiet compared to the hard, feral sound Rath makes around the chunk on shoulder he’s got in his mouth. They both look like they’re drowning in rapture.

When he finally pulls back, breathless and sweating, his teeth are tinged pink.

Tristian leans down to press a kiss to the wound. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

She nods, wordlessly shuddering as the two of us carefully pull out. For a second, I worry she’s not. That we went too far. That the weary curve of her shoulders means she’s realizing this is something she never wants to do again, even though I already know the three of us will want it.

But then she collapses against my chest, nestling her nose into the side of my neck, and the sound she releases can only be described as a purr.

Tonight, Story not just claimed the crown, she claimed all three of us at once.

Proving once and for all that she’s our Lady.

Our Queen.


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