Page 39 of Sacrifice

Nero sits back down, something akin to curiosity flickering across his features. “So, what’s really on your minds? Inari seemed to think we had everything settled.”

Gunnar leans forward, elbows on knees, and I feel the shift in the room. His next words come out clipped, almost too sharp-edged for the plush room we sit in. “I want you to fuck Aisling.”

The burn of whiskey catches in my throat, a harsh precursor to the bombshell Gunnar’s just dropped. I cough, eyes watering as I try to regain composure. Nero’s expression is unreadable for a fraction of a second before he leans back, crossing one leg over the other—a portrait of composure.

“Playing games, Gunnar?” Nero’s voice holds amusement but his eyes are sharp, probing.

“Games?” Gunnar’s lips twitch with a dark humor that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, this isn’t a game.” He leans back, hands clasping together like he’s molding his thoughts into something tangible. “I’ve been picturing it since our dinner. You. Her.” His chin lifts, eyes locking onto mine. “Aisling, come here.”

I set my glass on the nearest surface with exaggerated care, my movements deliberate to mask the tremble in my fingers. My feet carry me across the expanse of Nero’s opulent suite, each step weighted by the gravity of Gunnar’s request.

As I close the distance, Gunnar’s hands find my hips, a familiar touch that anchors me amid the whirlwind of desire and uncertainty swirling within. “Do you want this?” he asks, his gaze searching mine for an answer he can’t pull from the air between us.

The question lingers, a challenge and a choice all at once.

“I just want to please you,” I manage to say, my voice a low rumble of submission that doesn’t quite disguise the tremble beneath. “That’s what I want tonight—to please you.”

I want this, yeah…but it needs to be about him.

Gunnar’s gaze holds mine, intense and unwavering. “Then strip,” he commands, a simple word that drops into the silence like a stone into still water.

Before I can move, Nero’s presence looms behind me, his footsteps a soft echo on the plush carpet. His hands land gently on my shoulders, a touch that sends a jolt through my body.

“Let me,” he murmurs, his deep voice vibrating against my skin.

The sound of my zipper is like a whisper of silk as he eases it down, his fingers brushing against my spine, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. My breath hitches, caught in the sudden tightness of my chest.

I watch Gunnar lean back, propped by one arm, his other hand adjusting the bulge in his slacks—an act so casual yet charged with an electricity that arcs between us. The fabric of my dress gives way, slipping from my shoulders to gather at my feet, a pool of material that feels like the shedding of an old life. My panties quickly follow, already soaked with arousal.

“Beautiful,” Nero breathes out, the word hanging heavy in the air.

Gunnar’s eyes track every exposed inch of my skin, dark and inscrutable, but his body betrays him—a living sculpture of tense muscle and barely restrained power. I stand there, bared and vulnerable, caught in the gravity of their desires, in the push and pull of wanting and being wanted.

“What now?” I ask, the room suddenly too quiet, my voice echoing too loudly in my own ears.

Gunnar doesn’t say a word. Instead, he pats his knee, a silent command that’s all too clear. I move toward him, my bare skin brushing against the cool air. As I settle onto his lap, Gunnar’s hands are on me instantly, spreading my legs with a firmness that leaves no room for argument, putting me on display. It’s obvious I’m turned on, my pussy glistening with slick for these two huge alphas, and I can’t help but arch my back slightly at the exposure.

I glance up to see Nero watching, his eyes dark with hunger, his lips parting ever so slightly as if tasting the air itself. Gunnar doesn’t pause; his fingers tracing the wetness between my thighs, exploring me with a curiosity that makes my breath hitch. His touch is deliberate, sending jolts of pleasure that have me leaning into him. When he finds my clit, I almost choke on a gasp, his tongue trailing a hot path up my neck, marking me in ways that words never could.

“Lick her,” Gunnar orders.

Nero’s silhouette looms larger as he sheds his shirt, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a discarded thought. His chest is bare now, muscles defined and inviting under the dim light. Every movement is precise, predatory, as he lowers himself to his knees with an ease that speaks of strength coiled and ready to pounce.

Then his hands are on my thighs, gripping them with an ownership that sends a thrill straight to my core. He pulls me closer, and I’m at the edge of the seat, held in place by Gunnar’s steady arms as Nero brings his face to where I’m most vulnerable.

His first lick is slow, deliberate, teasing out a moan I can’t contain. Each subsequent flick of his tongue sends shivers through me, each lap pushing me further into the haze of arousal. It’s raw, it’s primal, and it’s pulling me apart, piece by piece, until all I can do is feel.

“Like that, Aisling?” Gunnar’s voice is a husky whisper against my ear, each word laced with the kind of sin that promises uncharted territories of pleasure. “You enjoy Nero’s tongue on you?”

I can’t see Gunnar’s face, but I imagine his eyes darkening with the same hunger that’s coursing through my veins. The hardness pressing against me through his pants is undeniable, and I rock against it, seeking friction, seeking more.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, a half-curse, half-plea as Nero’s mouth works magic between my legs.

“Tell me,” he urges, his hand maneuvering between our bodies, fingers teasing where Nero’s mouth is already claiming. “Do you want to watch me take him? Another alpha…part of our pack. Do you want to be the link that binds us together?”

The question sends a jolt through me, stirring up an arousal that’s tinged with something dangerously like anticipation. Gunnar’s asking for more than just a physical joining—he’s asking for a crossing of lines that we may never be able to uncross.

“Y-yes,” I stutter out, the confession torn from a place deep within me that I didn’t even know existed until now. The thought of them together, of being a part of something so intensely intimate—it’s terrifying and electrifying all at once.

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