Page 17 of The Darkest Gift

I don't hold back, letting my cries of pleasure fill the room. The wet sounds and slap of skin against skin seems obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet space. I can only imagine how it must sound to Elijah, amplified by his lack of sight.

Mason shifts the angle of his hips, hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars. "Oh god, yes!" I scream, my back arching off the bed.

"That's it, darling," Mason growls, his voice rough with lust. "Let him hear every sound. Let him know exactly what he's missing."

His thrusts become deeper, harder, each one pushing me closer to the edge. I'm lost in a haze of pleasure, every nerve ending on fire. Mason's hands roam my body possessively,squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

"You're mine," he snarls against my skin. "Say it."

"Yours," I gasp out between moans.

He lifts my legs, draping them over his shoulders to drive even deeper. The new angle has me crying out with every thrust, teetering on the brink of orgasm.

"You hear that, Elijah?" Mason calls out, his voice strained with exertion. "She's mine. My perfect, wicked queen. My brilliant, beautiful, deadly wife. My partner in every way."

"Iris may have let you touch her," he pants, never slowing his relentless rhythm, "may have let you fuck her, but make no mistake–she's mine." He punctuates this with a particularly brutal thrust that has me seeing stars. "Every. Inch. Of. Her." Each word is emphasized with another deep stroke.

The coil of pleasure in my core winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Mason must sense how close I am, because he leans in close, his lips brushing my ear.

"Come for me, darling," he purrs. "Let Elijah hear what he's missing out on."

His words are the final push I need. My orgasm crashes over me in waves of white-hot pleasure, my body arching off the bed as I scream Mason's name. My inner walls clamp down around him, pulling him deeper.

Mason follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he empties himself inside me. For a moment, we stay locked together, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Then Mason slowly pulls out, and I feel our combined fluids start to trickle down my thighs.

Before I can move, Mason's fingers are there, gathering up the sticky mess. I watch through half-lidded eyes as he approaches Elijah, who has remained eerily silent throughout our performance.

"Open up," Mason commands, his voice brooking no argument.

When Elijah's lips part, likely to make some snarky comment, Mason takes the opportunity to smear our combined releases across his mouth and tongue.

"There," Mason says with satisfaction. His fingers linger on Elijah's lips, smearing our cum across them. His voice drops to a low, dangerous purr as he leans in close.

"Smell that, pretty boy? Taste it on your tongue. That's what you can't have. Not until we allow it."

Elijah's tongue darts out, involuntarily licking at the sticky mess coating his lips. A shudder runs through his body, visible even in the dim light. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Mason taunts. "The scent of her arousal, the taste of my cum mixed with her sweet pussy. Intoxicating. Addictive."

"You want it desperately, don't you?" Mason continues, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "You want to taste her properly. To bury your face between her thighs and drink your fill. To feel her nails raking down your back as you fuck her."

A shudder runs through Elijah's body, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to hide it. His cock is so hard it looks painful.

"But more than that," Mason says, leaning in close so his lips brush Elijah's ear, "you want me, too, don't you? You want to feel my hands on your body, my cock stretching you open. You want to be caught between us, fucked and used until you don't know where you end and we begin."

Elijah's breath catches audibly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. A bead of sweat trickles down his temple, disappearing beneath the edge of the blindfold.

Mason chuckles wickedly, pulling back slightly. "Oh yes, I can see it all over your face. You want it so badly it hurts. But you can't have it. Not yet.”

He traces Elijah's bottom lip with his thumb, pressing lightly. "Open wider," he commands. When Elijah reluctantly complies, Mason pushes two fingers into his mouth.

"Suck," he orders.

For a moment, Elijah resists. But then his cheeks hollow as he begins to suck Mason's fingers clean, his tongue working between the digits to lap up every last trace of us.

"Good boy," Mason praises, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Savor it. Let it linger on your tongue. Because this?" He withdraws his fingers with a wet pop. "This is all you get tonight. A mere taste of what you're missing out on."

Mason's hand cups Elijah's jaw, grip firm but not painful. "Remember this moment, Elijah. The taste, the scent, the ache in your neglected cock. Let it haunt your dreams."

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