Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(140)

Kharon grabbed both sides of his shirt and yanked it apart.

Diamond buttons flew off, rolling all around the room, and he threw the ruined cloth to the floor, flexing as he fucked me with his eyes.

Thick brands covered his chest—the pale skin was a network of fresh pink scars and old white lines—the newest of all sat smack-dab in the middle and he rubbed his hand over it, face full of pride.

I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

I reached for him, while Augustus dragged his nails down my spine, and followed it with his tongue.

Kharon shook his head no.

Stepping back until his legs knocked against the chair he’d positioned earlier, he settled into it, legs spreading wide, his branded chest drenched in firelight.

Tattooed fingers flexed as he slowly unzipped the fly of his pants, and Kharon palmed his hard, pale shaft. Blue veins wrapped around it, the tip glistening pink in the moonlight.

“Come—sit, wife,” Kharon ordered wickedly. “Now.”

Augustus’s hands trailed up to my neck in a gentle caress.

Chills followed his path.

“Go to him,” Augustus’s voice scratched deliciously through my mind.

Entranced by them, I walked toward Kharon.

Augustus went with me, kissing the back of my neck with each step.

The devil spread his legs wider in the chair, lips swollen.

Weapons holsters stretched across his thighs, splattered with blood.

“I love you both so much,” I said abruptly, suddenly needing to say it.

Augustus chuckled as he kissed the back of my shoulder, then bit down lightly, and lapped at the mark.

“We know, carissima …” Kharon’s eyes were bright in the dark. “Because we feel it too.”

I stopped in front of him, and Augustus halted with me—his fingers trailed across my rib cage, lingering on my scar—he cupped my breasts, holding them with his calloused palms, so they were raised to Kharon’s face.

“Lean forward,” Kharon ordered, his voice hoarse.

Augustus pressed a leg between my thighs and spread them wide. His stomach clenched against my back, buttons digging into my spine, as he pushed me forward with his weight toward Kharon.

I grabbed the arms of Kharon’s chair to steady myself.

Kharon smirked, my chest even with his face.

He opened his mouth and stuck out his glistening tongue.

Augustus palmed my breasts harder, dragging my swollen nipples across Kharon’s unmoving tongue, as he pushed his thigh up harder between my legs. The hilts of his daggers pressed against my core.

I gasped with pleasure.

“I can feel your cunt dripping through my pants, sweetheart,” Augustus whispered inside my mind. “Good girl.”

My arms trembled where I leaned against the chair.

Kharon closed his mouth around my nipple and sucked. I whimpered.

“Kneel on my lap,” Kharon ordered, a wet pop echoing as he released me. “Carissima.”

Augustus picked me up, spreading me out across Kharon’s lap, a sacrificial offering. The silky ridge of his cock nestled against my heat and we both gasped.

Augustus stepped back, the other chair creaking as he sat in it.

Kharon’s long fingers wrapped around my face. He dragged me down and kissed me hard as I gripped onto his wide shoulders, the warm skin bunching and flexing.

Kharon released my face and reached down between our naked bodies.

He fisted his cock, tattooed tendons in his pale forearm flexing, as he positioned it at my entrance.

My thighs quivered.

“Are you ready, carissima?” Kharon asked breathlessly. “I know it’s your first time—breathe with me, stay relaxed.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

His hips flexed, his blunt tip slipping inside of me.

Kharon moved his fingers up, stroking through my curls, rubbing at my clit. His other hand gripped my hip and pushed me downward a little.

He stopped. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I gasped at the overwhelming fullness. It had an edge of pain, but was nothing I couldn’t handle.

He thrust a little deeper, then paused again. “Still, okay?” His eyes searched mine, glazed with lust and feelings.

“Yes—more.”

I gripped his shoulders for dear life as he slowly slipped deeper. Finally, he seated himself fully, throbbing inside of me.

“Good girl,” Augustus praised in my mind. “You’re doing such an amazing job.”

I looked back over my shoulder, whimpering at the hardness stretching me indecently, holding me in place.

Augustus was sitting naked in his chair, pierced cock fisted in his hand as he stroked himself, watching as Kharon fucked me.

His crown was askew on the top of his head—a Machiavellian glint was in his eyes; a single brand covered his unblemished bronze skin, it sat on the edge of his left pectoral muscle, directly over his heart.

Despotic, hungry, disturbingly competent.

The stretching pain took on a warm, pleasurable edge.

Flutters traveled through my core as I turned back, trembling on Kharon’s lap, his weapons digging harder into my thighs, as I sat spread across him.

He still wasn’t moving, waiting for me to adjust.

“Fuck,” he swore. “You’re so unreal—I’m not going to be able to last long.”