Michael hooked his hands under my thighs, along with Jason, and my feet left the ground as they lifted me. I was already pulsing and throbbing, needing to feel them deep inside me. My back laid against Jason’s hard torso as he started to lower me. His cock brushed my ass, making me moan, and the feel of him slowly stretching and filling me up was pure ecstasy with a bite of burning pain, until that washed away too, replaced with only mind numbing pleasure.
He cursed the entire time under his breath, switching back and forth between accents. I knew he and Damon were flitting in and out, trading off control. Idly, I wondered if this could technically be considered a foursome.
Michael’s cock pushed at my soaking wet entrance, and he slid in inch by beautiful inch. His pelvic bone grazed my clit as he filled me up, leaving me breathless. I watched as his snake tattoo slithered over his skin, wrapping around his neck and causing his eyes to go dark. Having the two of them inside of me was an amazing sensation, making me feel connected and cherished at the same time. It was pure bliss in every way.
They started to move in sync, as if they’d planned this whole thing out, but I knew it was because they could read my body so perfectly.
“So fucking beautiful,” Micheal murmured, staring into my eyes as he thrust faster and faster.
“Come for us, luv. Let me feel you fall apart in our arms,” Damon whispered against the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
“Mine…” I heard Jason’s possessive thoughts shift through my head.
They were made for me, and we were connected down to our souls. Even before the crash, I knew they were mine.
They picked up the pace, slowly drawing out my pleasure as they held me aloft and bounced me on their dicks between them, a dewy sweat working its way over our bodies from the steam of the shower. They were so deep that they hit every spot I needed them to hit, and tears were springing to my eyes from the pleasure.
I slapped a palm over my mouth to keep from screaming, until Michael said, “I’ve warded this room, they can’t hear you.”
Small zaps of electricity rolled over my clit and my eyes flew open and my mouth fell slack. I moaned, long and drawn out, as Michael’s magic pulsed in time with their thrusts. It felt like he was holding a vibrator to my clit, and soon I was seeing stars. I couldn’t hold it in any longer as I started outright moaning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted. “Oh god, don’t fucking stop!”
“Never,” Jason promised, his teeth clamping onto the tender part between my neck and shoulder before swiping his long tongue over the love bite, my panting breaths loud in the small shower.
Both of them made noises of affirmation, mixtures of growls and groans. Hands slicked over my skin, gripping my thighs, my breasts, everywhere at once. I felt their cocks thicken even more, and they began pulsing. I knew they were seconds away from coming, and so was I.
“I’m there—fuck!” My voice was high pitched and shaky as I came, my pussy squeezing them tight as they let go.
“Yes…” Michael growled deeply, his head thrown back as his neck muscles strained.
They were both moaning hard now, digging their fingers into my skin as they came inside me. It spilled out, dripping between the three of us, and they gradually slowed down, drawing out the aftershocks of pleasure until it felt like none of us would have the strength to remain standing much longer.
We were all silent, the shower steam starting to dissipate, and slowly, they slid out of me and set me on my wobbling feet.
“We didn’t hurt you, did we?” asked Michael, like he couldn’t help himself.
I smiled up at him. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”
His eyes rolled, but he smirked down at my upturned face and said, “Oh, right, I forgot you were the master of death now, goth girl.”
Jason reached around and grabbed a bottle of soap and began lathering it in his palms before smoothing it over my skin.
“Let us take care of you, October. Don’t think about anything, just feel good.” Jason kissed my temple, lingering for a second as he breathed me in and I breathed him out.
I groaned again, this time in relaxed bliss as Michael grabbed the shampoo. He washed my hair while Jason lathered my body, and I thought for a moment that this must’ve been Heaven and not Hell after all. Maybe I really did die in that bus crash, and this was all just some sort of twisted hallucination in the afterlife.
Eventually, the water ran cold, and I knew it was time to get out before I got all wrinkled. I towelled off and dressed, wearing a pair of black leather pants, a dark green crop top, and my tall combat boots. I let my hair air dry as I swiped some black lipstick and liner on, all the while the guys dressed and watched me, making it obvious that they were studying closely.
“So what’s this big evil plan you have for Ichabod?” Michael asked, his eyes turning a dark midnight blue at just the mention of his name. I really loved that about him—his protective instincts that made me feel safe.
“Please tell me we get to kill him a little bit,” Jason added, yellow gaze switching back and forth to steel grey. The pleased, creepy smile that spread across his wide lips said plenty. They were plotting.
“A little bit?” I laughed, brushing my hair out slowly as I debated what to do.
Death? Death sounded good. Death it was. Plotting was fun when it was reserved for the wicked. On second thought, death might’ve been too easy an out for the warlock.
“You can just bring him back and we’ll kill him
