Seraphina's Point Of View
Azriel's hand slid down, his palm cupping me, his thumb finding that sensitive spot and pressing down with a rhythm that made my vision blur. "Look at me, princess," he commanded, his voice a dark caress. "I want to see your eyes when I take this from you."
I looked. And in the storm of his gaze, I saw the end of the girl I used to be.
His eyes locked on mine with a look that made me feel like I was the only thing left in a world that was burning down. I could feel Draven and Lucian just inches away, their heavy, synchronized breathing a constant reminder that I wasn't just with one man… I was being hunted by three.
Azriel didn't wait for another word. His hand dove under the silk of my robe, his fingers hooking into the lace of my panties. In one swift, violent motion, I heard the sharp rrrrip of fabric. The sound was deafening in the quiet room. I gasped against his lips, the shock of being exposed so suddenly making my stomach swoop.
He didn't care. He tossed the ruined lace aside like it was nothing and his hand found me… bare, aching, and sopping wet.
"There she is," he growled into my mouth.
His thumb found my clit and flicked it… hard. A sharp, electric jolt shot straight to my spine, and I let out a broken whimper that was swallowed by his kiss. My head thrashed back against the pillows, my neck arching as his other hand tore the front of my robe open. The cool air hit my breasts for only a second before his mouth left mine and latched onto my nipple.
I screamed, the sound muffled by the back of my hand. The sensation was overwhelming… the wet heat of his tongue, the sharp scrape of his teeth, and the relentless flicking of his fingers between my legs.
My left hand shot out, my fingers tangling in the thick hair at the back of his head, tugging and pulling with a desperation I didn't know I had. I wanted to pull him closer; I wanted to push him away. I didn't know what I wanted, only that I needed more.
Azriel groaned against my skin, the sound vibrating in my chest. He suddenly shoved two fingers deep inside me, and I felt my body stretch, the unfamiliar fullness making my breath hitch. He started finger-fucking me with a brutal, rhythmic precision, his thumb never leaving that sensitive bud.
"Look at her," Lucian's voice drifted over from the side, silken and dark. "She's coming apart for you, Az."
I was. I was thrashing lightly, my moans becoming high-pitched and frantic as the pressure built. My vision was blurring, the ceiling spinning.
"I'm going to be gentle," he whispered, though the way his muscles corded in his arms suggested a battle for control. "Just for a second. Until you're used to me."
"Don't," I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "I don't want gentle, Azriel. I want to know I'm alive."
A dark, jagged smile slashed across his face. "Careful what you wish for, princess."
Behind him, I heard the click of a lighter. I glanced past Azriel's shoulder to see Lucian lighting a cigarette, the smoke curling around his handsome face as he watched us with clinical intensity. Draven stood at the head of the bed, his large hand coming down to rest on the pillow next to my head, not touching me, but marking the space.
"Look at me," Draven commanded, his voice a low vibration that I felt in my spine.
I looked.
"This is the only time you will ever belong to just one man," Draven said, his eyes dark and promise-heavy. "Make it count."
Then, suddenly, he pulled his fingers out. I let out a whined protest, my hips lifting off the bed to follow him, but then he settled between my legs.
I blinked, trying to clear my head. When did he even remove his clothes? I hadn't even noticed the rustle of denim or the click of a belt. All I saw was the expanse of his tattooed chest and then, looming between my thighs, his cock. It was massive, thick, and hooded with a dark, heavy vein that throbbed with every beat of his heart. It looked lethal. It looked like it would break me.
My breath caught in my throat as he nudged the head of his cock against my entrance. The heat of it was staggering. I felt my muscles clench instinctively, a wave of pure, virgin panic washing over me.
"Azriel," I breathed, my hands shaking as they gripped his shoulders.
"Shh," he whispered, his eyes suddenly softening just a fraction, though the hunger was still there. He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. "It's gonna hurt a little, princess. Just for a second."
I nodded, my eyes wide, waiting for the impact. I braced myself, my legs tensing, expecting him to just drive into me. But he didn't. Instead, his hand flew up and he pinched my nipple— hard.
The sharp, sudden sting of pain made me yelp, my focus snapping away from my lower half for a split second. And in that moment of distraction, he lunged.
He thrust in one deep, unyielding motion, his entire length burying itself inside me until he bottomed out.
The air left my lungs in a silent, jagged gasp. It was a pressure I'd never imagined, a stretching that felt like it was reaching up into my very ribs. I felt the tear, the sharp sting of the barrier breaking, and my legs instinctively flew up, wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, to stabilize the world.
"God," he choked out, his face contorting as he stayed still for a moment, letting my body adjust to the sheer size of him. "You're so tight. You're fucking crushing me."
I couldn't speak. I just held onto him, my heart hammering against his. I felt the wetness of my own blood mixing with my heat, a sacrifice I was more than willing to make. I looked up at him, my eyes watering but my gaze steady.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice a rough gravel.
I nodded, a small, shaky movement.
He didn't wait. He started to move. He didn't go slow, but he didn't go too fast either. It was a steady, heavy rhythm that made the bed frame groan. Every thrust felt like it was rearranging my insides, a deep, thudding ache that was rapidly turning into something else. Something wilder.
"Easy," Azriel murmured, his voice dropping to a rough purr. He leaned down, catching my lips in a deep, soul-searing kiss.
The pain was there, but it was being drowned out by the friction, by the way his skin dragged against mine, and the way his cock filled every single crevice of me. I started to move with him, my hips meeting his, my moans turning into a low, guttural chant of his name.
Tears pricked my eyes… not from pain, but from the overwhelming sense of finally. Finally, I was doing something for myself. Finally, I was taking.
"Fuck," he groaned, his voice breaking. "You're so tight... so perfect."
"Keep... keep going," I managed to choke out, my hips tilting up to meet him.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Draven move closer to the edge of the bed, his dark eyes fixed on the point where we were joined. Lucian was right there too, his hand resting on my ankle, his thumb stroking my skin as he watched Azriel claim me. The tension in the room was a living thing, a predatory energy that was feeding off my surrender.
With every thrust, the sting faded, replaced by a deep, heavy ache that quickly spiraled into something electric.
Lucian's voice drifted over from the foot of the bed, silken and dark. "Look at how she takes him, Draven. She was made for this."
Draven's fingers finally moved, brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead. His touch was surprisingly soft for a man of such violence. "She was made for us," he corrected.
"That's it, princess," Azriel growled, his pace picking up, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. "Take it. Take all of it."
I was losing my mind. The ticking clock in my head was gone. There was only this… the heat, the sweat, the stretch, and the terrifying, beautiful feeling of being completely, utterly ruined.
Azriel's pace quickened. He stopped being careful. His movements became primal, his sweat dripping onto my skin as he drove into me. The friction was a revelation. I found myself crying out, my voice raw and unfamiliar to my own ears. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to disappear into the sensation.
The world narrowed to the point where Azriel and I met. I forgot about the doctor. I forgot about Adrian. I forgot about the shadow of death. There was only the sound of our breathing, the scent of skin and sex, and the heavy, watchful presence of the two men who were next in line.
"I've got you," Azriel rasped, his eyes locking onto mine as he hit a rhythm that sent me over the edge. "I've got you, princess."