Page 44 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

I throw my head back, ecstasy crashing over me as I reach a deafening peak and moments later cry out my release. My nails dig into his back, shuddering as pleasure radiates through me in waves. It's so intense that my consciousness fades in and out—one second, I'm aware, the next I'm gone, lost in the sensation.

When I come to, he's still between my thighs, his fangs embedded in my neck as aftershocks rip through me.

Sometime later, I'm aware of voices and movement around me, but I'm too weak to open my eyes, and I'm still locked in a lust-induced haze. There's pressure at my neck before cool air rushes in, my body still humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," someone curses.

"Did you get enough?" another asks.

"I think so."

"Well, get on with it then."

"She needs to rest. Maybe get some clothes back on her," the man says, his voice thick. "She's going to be a bit out of it for a while."

"Mmm," I groan, rolling onto my front, capturing someone as I do so. He's warm. So warm. "No clothes."

Whoever's under me stiffens in my hold.

"I think Morte wants some more orgasms," the other man chuckles.

"Yes." I reach between my thighs. "More. I like those."

The man under me shifts, his heat seeping into me as he stills. I nuzzle my face into his neck, breathing in his scent as I press my body closer to him.

"You," I murmur in his ear. "You'll give me orgasms?"

He doesn't respond, but his breathing deepens, so I take matters into my own hands. My fingers slide between my folds, finding the spot that still throbs. I circle it slowly, seeking out my pleasure with his body beneath mine. Moaning, I arch into him, desperate for more. His arousal presses against me, and he readjusts, rumbling low as he wraps an arm around my waist. His other hand moves up my back, to thread through my hair and tilt my head back.

I'm just finding my release as he lifts my head and my eyes fly open, and as my vision clears, meeting his molten gaze, his burning with an intensity I can almost feel.

And that's when I know who's beneath me—the devil himself.

I scramble off him, my cheeks burning as I curl into a ball, my eyes wide and unblinking. Aggonid stares at me for a long moment before he finally speaks.

"Well, that was unexpected," he says, his voice low and a little rough.

I swallow, unable to find the words I need. Staring, I try to make sense of the last however many hours, as though the devil holds all the answers, I just have to find the right questions.

"Did we have sex?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

The corner of Aggonid's mouth quirks and he pushes himself up, settling into a sitting position. He's bare-chested and wears only a pair of low-slung black silk boxers. "Make no mistake, Morte, if we had sex, you'd know."

Gulping, I swivel my head to the other side of the bed where Caius lounges.

He's naked.

"Did you ... did we ...?" My eyes trail to the metal bars ringing his rigid erection. Is that what felt so good? Oh gods.

I gave him my virginity.

Caius smirks. "No."

I move to a seated position. "I wasn't dreaming," I mutter, searching my thoughts for all the fragments of my memories.

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. "No, you weren't."

I glance behind me and startle to find Azazel there, his lip piercing glinting in the candlelight. This man is fine as hell. "I had sex withyou?"

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