Page 14 of Garden of Poisoned Delights

“You are sure you want this?” Sebastien asked, a hand on Devon’s jaw. “I do not know the, hmm—the mechanics of a demon cock, and how it will feel to have one inside you.”

Devon’s gold eyes were blurry and warm. He nodded. “I want you both. I always have.”

“Yes, be that as it may, my flame, I won’t cause you pain. Not in this.” He pressed his fingers gently to Devon’s mouth, “even if you say you want it to hurt.”

“I know.” Devon drew in a shaky breath and kissed his fingertips. “You’ll stop if I say so.” He sounded so sure, so trusting, and Sebastien kissed him again to show that yes, he would.

He took Devon’s hand and drew him to the bed, where Sariel perched on the headboard on all fours, like a large winged cat or a gargoyle. Devon lay on the bed, and Sebastien stripped, taking the oil from his pocket and placing it on the bed.

He drew Devon toward him and kissed him, deeply, sliding his hand down to curve over Devon’s ass. Devon kissed him back, and Sebastien pressed him down on the bed as Sariel climbed off the headboard and joined them. He sat like a cat beside them, watching with his head tilted, and Sebastien felt a bit silly, as if he were performing for an audience. Knowing Sariel watched them from within was somewhat different than having him there, staring.

“This is like fucking with Duchess in the corner,” Devon murmured, and Sebastien snorted a soft laugh. Devon shifted so he was on his side, and looked over his shoulder at Sariel. “You can touch me.”

Sariel moved easily, graceful as smoke, and became a shadowy figure at Devon’s back. Sebastien pressed against his front, and together, they set about taking Devon apart.

* * *

Devon had never felt anything quite like this before.

Sebastien’s touch was firm and hot and present above him, hands sliding down his waist to his hip bones, blunt nails dragging over his skin, warm breath on Devon’s neck when he leaned down to kiss Devon’s throat. Devon ghosted his fingers over the evil, jagged scar marking the place Sebastien had been gutted as a child—a wound that still ached sometimes, making him lean on his cane or quietly stretch his legs in discomfort when he thought he wasn’t being observed. He brushed the head of Sebastien’s cock with his thumb, and Sebastien grabbed his wrist, moving his arms back—where Sariel caught him.

Sariel’s touch was not as firm and real as Sebastien’s, for all that he was as present as he could be in this dark place beyond the world. His body was almost pliant behind Devon, as though Devon could fall back into Sariel and see out through his eyes, and the thought made Devon shiver even as Sariel squeezed his wrists and let go to drag his talons over Devon’s chest. He didn’t break the skin, but the sensation made Devon gasp, and he felt feathers brushing his shoulders as Sariel’s wings fluttered and threatened to engulf Devon and Sebastien together.

“Host,” Sariel said, and Devon felt his voice rather than heard it, a ripple of sound running through his body, “make him make the sounds for us.”

“Bossy,” Devon mouthed, and Sebastien flashed him a soft smile before kissing him again, pressing down on Devon’s hips. The movement drove him back into Sariel, and his sound of surprise was swallowed by Sebastien as he felt something form beneath him. It was almost as unreal as the rest of Sariel, but shaped like a cock, hard and strangely familiar.

“I think it’s like yours,” he said as Sebastien drew back, and grabbed his shoulders as Sariel thrust against him.

“Yes,” Sariel said, gripping Devon tight. “Host makes you cry and beg, and so will I.”

“I suppose I should be flattered,” Sebastien murmured, and Devon, despite himself, almost laughed. It was odd how distant he felt from where he’d been in the tower room, but even that thought was driven out of him as Sebastien adjusted his hips, nearly bending Devon in half between him and Sariel. Sebastien gave him a questioning look, just a flicker, and Devon nodded.

“Yes, please,” he said. “Please.”

Sebastien was careful with the oil—so gentle, this man who had once cut people open for his demon to consume—but Devon was impatient and on edge already, and he struggled not to fuck himself on Sebastien’s fingers. Sebastien stopped once or twice to watch him, that thoughtful look on his face, but then Sariel would click and chitter in frustration and rock against Devon, making him gasp and whimper.

When Sebastien finally entered Devon, fucking him shallowly over Sariel, Sariel’s wings briefly covered them, leaving them in darkness. For a second, Devon could only hear Sebastien’s breath and the pathetic, needy sounds he was making, and when the wings retreated like a silk curtain drawing back, Sebastien thrust harder, with purpose. Devon did cry out at that, and Sariel wrapped a taloned hand around his throat, holding him still.

“He is ready, Host,” Sariel asked, and Devon held his arms tight around Sebastien’s neck as he felt Sariel’s cock thrust up ever so lightly against him.

Sebastien gave Devon a considering look, and somehow, that was what made desire burn hot inside him—that Sebastien and Sariel were both watching him, taking care of him, settling him between the two of them even though Devon had spent the afternoon being a stubborn, emotional mess. He wasn’t a troublesome issue that needed to be fixed and filed away—he was someone they loved.

“I need this,” Devon whispered. He didn’t think he could speak any louder without his voice breaking. “I need you.”

Sebastien kissed him, slow and deep, and Devon groaned into his mouth as Sariel raked sharp claws down his back. When Sebastien started stretching Devon further, Devon pressed his face to Sebastien’s shoulder, trying not to breathe too hard. It was still gentle, still cautious, but Devon felt like his body was burning with desire from the inside out, sweat prickling along his back.

Finally, Sariel’s cock pressed against Devon’s hole, and Devon struggled not to tense as Sariel rocked into him. He was so full, impossibly so, overwhelmed to the point that he wasn’t even aware of the sounds he was making until Sebastien started to move. He cried out against Sebastien’s shoulder, and Sebastien stroked his hair as he and Sariel fucked into Devon, their cocks sliding against each other, moving just out of tandem so that Devon was always just on the verge of too full.

“He is breaking for us,” Sariel said, and his wings enclosed them again, soft feathers brushing Devon’s cheeks as tears pricked his eyes and he panted harshly, nails digging into Sebastien’s back. Sebastien reached between them to take Devon’s cock, and Devon wailed something embarrassing and desperate—babbling pleas of yes, Sebastien, yes, please, I’m being good, aren’t I being good, Sebastien, aren’t I, please, please.

It was the sort of thing he rarely admitted to wanting, to please people, to be good when all his life he’d been nothing but trouble. But in the dark, there was no need for artifice, and Devon sobbed as Sebastien stroked his cock and Sariel slammed into him harder, faster, feathers sliding over his shoulders and nestling in his hair.

“Yes, Beloved is very good,” Sariel said, “because he is ours. Mine. You are both mine.”

“Come for us, Devon,” Sebastien said, and Devon shook as he fell apart between them, pleasure crashing over him like a storm breaking. Sebastien and Sariel kept fucking him through it, until the pleasure was a warm sensation that tugged at him sharply, punching out involuntary moans.

When Sariel pulled out, it was all at once—suddenly, his cock was gone, and Devon was clenching down on Sebastien, still overwhelmed but not quite full enough.

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