Page 58 of Sacrifice

I can’t look away from her face—it’s a canvas of lust and love, and it’s all for us, her pack. Nero sidles up close, one hand leisurely stroking himself while he sips champagne from the bottle like he’s at some decadent feast. Maybe he is. He watches Aisling with an intensity that tells me he’s not just here for the pleasure—he sees the power in this, the bond that ties us together.

“You feel so good, love.” Rook’s voice is a rough whisper against her ear, and I feel every word vibrate through her. Aisling’s body trembles, her lips parting in silent plea or praise—I don’t know which, but it doesn’t matter. Rook kisses her, fingers tweaking her nipples, and she makes the most sinful noises as he fucks her slow…as I feel his cock stroking her insides, knowing just how to drag orgasms out of her. “That perfect cunt is so tight with Gunnar’s cock in your arse…perfect…”

I can almost hear the smirk in Rook’s voice, rough and edged with a primal possessiveness that resonates within the room. Aisling’s body is a live wire between us, every thrust sending jolts of carnal energy through her, through me. With each ragged breath she takes, I feel her slipping further into that abyss of ecstasy, the one we’ve all fallen into tonight.

“Ah, fuck…” Rook grunts, picking up his pace, and I swear the bed frame creaks a protest. Aisling writhes, the movements jerky and uncoordinated as waves of pleasure crash over her, her cries mingling with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Beneath her, my own body strains with the effort to remain still, to let her take what she needs from us, from this moment of raw, unfiltered passion.

“Bite me,” Aisling gasps, and I lock eyes with Rook for a moment. Aisling is coming, my head spinning…but I nod at him.

He hasn’t marked her yet—and she wants him to, needs him to.

His lips find her throat in one of the rare places where she hasn’t yet been bitten…and then she’s screaming and coming as he sinks his teeth into her. He fucks her hard and fast, cock inside her pussy, mine in her ass, his teeth in her neck.

“Mine,” Rook growls as he pulls away, blood on his lips, a primal declaration that sends shivers down my spine. But it’s not just his claim; it’s ours, echoing through the pack bond that ties our fates together.

Then Oberon, ever the silent sentinel, leans forward. His lips brush against the smooth expanse of Aisling’s shoulder, marking her. His voice rumbles low in her ear, words wrapped in the deep timbre of ownership and affection. “You’re ours, Aisling. You belong to us, to this pack.”

She gasps, the sound slicing through the heavy curtain of lust hanging in the air. It’s a reminder—a promise—that no matter the chaos of our world, she is the constant we orbit around. The core of our pack. Her half-lidded eyes catch mine, grey seas stormy with emotion, and I know she feels it too. The weight of our bond, the strength of our claim.

“Yours,” she whispers back, a single word that seals her fate and ours. It’s a vow, spoken in the language of bodies and souls entwined. And as Rook’s movements become more erratic, signaling his impending release, I tighten my hold on her, grounding her, ready to weather the storm of sensation that’s about to break over us all.

Oberon breathes against Aisling’s skin, his fingers dancing across her tender flesh with the reverence of a man worshipping at an altar. His touch teases the peaks of her breasts, still exposed and blushing pink over the neckline of her wedding dress.

“God, yes…” Her voice is a raspy testament to the depths of her desire, her body arching into every caress, every stroke that claims her as ours.

Rook’s grip on her tightens, a silent signal of his nearing edge. He grunts—a low, animalistic sound—and I feel the tremor of his release. It ripples through Aisling, a wave crashing into the shore of her senses. When he pulls out, she’s practically gushing with our mingled arousal, so full…

…but there’s one more.

I’m barely holding on, fire licking through my veins, but then Nero shifts closer, his presence like a match waiting to ignite the tinderbox of our lust. He doesn’t just look at Aisling; he devours her with his gaze, appreciation etched in every line of his face.

“Perfection,” Nero murmurs, and I can’t help but agree. She is the embodiment of every carnal fantasy, yet she’s so much more—she’s the heart of us, the soul of our pack.

His hands roam over her thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He bites his lip, a playful spark igniting in his eyes, and it’s clear he’s reveling in the moment before conquest.

“Ready for more, Stargazer?” he teases, voice laced with the promise of ecstasy.

And without waiting for her breathless nod, Nero pushes us down, a move both gentle and commanding. He positions himself, and with a fluid motion that speaks of both hunger and finesse, he enters her.

The sensation is overwhelming, a new layer added to the tapestry of pleasure we’re weaving together. With every thrust, every moan, every gasp for air, we’re writing the story of us—a tale of love and lust entangled, of bonds forged in the crucible of shared passion.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Nero groans, his voice a velvet caress against the heated skin of our tangled bodies.

I’m ensnared in the intensity of Nero’s thrusts, each one a powerful affirmation of our connection. The pleasure radiates through me, amplified by the closeness of Aisling between us. With each movement, I can sense her reactions to Nero, a symphony of clenching and shuddering that echoes through my own body.

Lips crash against lips in a chaotic dance. Our three-way kiss is messy, an imperfect melding that feels so damn right. Salty sweat mingles with the sweet taste of Aisling’s mouth, her breath coming in ragged pulls that fan over my face. Her wedding dress, once pristine, is now a testament to the raw desire consuming us, adorned with stains of passion.

Nero’s moans vibrate directly into my chest, his hot breath searing my skin even as we stay locked in this maddening embrace. His rhythm becomes erratic, and then, with a guttural groan that sends ripples through the room, he spills himself inside Aisling. It’s like I can feel the heat of his release, a strange heat that adds to the cocktail of seed already claimed by Aisling’s depths.

She whimpers, a delicate sound that belies the ferocity of her spirit. Her body trembles as Nero withdraws, leaving us both feeling strangely empty despite being so full.

“Shit,” Nero exhales, his dark eyes meeting mine for a moment—a silent conversation held in the aftermath of chaos.

But I haven’t come yet…and fuck, I need her so bad it hurts.

With a grunt of pure need, I roll Aisling onto her stomach and position myself behind her, getting to my knees. My hands grip her hips, pulling her into me as I thrust into her ass with a force that’s driven by primal desperation. Each movement is harder, faster, my body demanding release as I roll my hips against hers, my knot nestled in her ass.

“Fuck, Aisling…” The words escape between clenched teeth, a growl that vibrates through the charged air. Her body holds me, squeezes me, the pressure building to an unbearable intensity.

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