I ignored the jabs of pain when he lifted me, my legs circling his hips, our kiss desperate and needy. Lowering me back onto the bed, his weight pressed down on me, fitting perfectly between my legs. My hips rolled into his, craving more, desperate to feel him. Pushing at his pants, I slipped my hand between us, my palm wrapping around him, my thumb rubbing over the head, feeling the slick bit of pre-cum.
A deep moan came up his throat before he climbed off of me. His focus was intense as he yanked off his pants, freeing his hard cock, and chucked off his boots. Instead of crawling back on me, he lowered himself to his knees, yanking me closer to the edge of the bed. His hands wrapped around the sides of my underwear, dragging them down, being careful around my wound. He spread my legs, and I felt the zing of people being all around us, able to see everything.
His teeth nipped at my inner thigh, his tongue sliding up and grazing my folds. I dropped my head back, my nails curling into the bedding, my teeth sawing into my lips.
“Look at me.” He sat back, waiting until my eyes were on him. He grabbed an opium pipe on a side table next to the bed. His gaze never left mine as he lit it, inhaling deeply. Tracking his every move, he spread my legs wider, his lips trailing all the way up my thigh, humming hungrily against me. His mouth covered my pussy before he blew the smoke into me.
My body jolted, and a rush of euphoria shredded a loud, long moan from my lips as his tongue licked through me. He took another hit, his tongue sliding in deeper, propelling more of the opium deep into my core.
“Oh, gods,” I cried out, heaving, my spine arching in utter bliss, my hips rocking desperately against his mouth. My brain could no longer compute. All I understood was pleasure. Need and desire swirled through me with dizzying speed.
Sucking and nipping, his mouth consumed me whole. Flames burned up my spine, my orgasm already sprinting too fast to the edge. I never wanted this to end. I wanted him to feast on me forever.
“Warwick!” I groaned. Noises heaved from me; cries I had never heard before. His hands clutched my ass, my legs over his shoulder, yanking me closer to him and devouring what was left. My mind was a swirl of colors, us fucking on a bloody field, walking through a battle, dead people all around us.
The Grey.
The Wolf.
The cry from my lips as I slammed brutally into my orgasm seemed to echo through the room and crashed out into the world above. Through the high, I could feel the link braiding back, skimming over my skin and brushing at my soul. His presence around me, inside me.
His mouth still on me, he sucked in sharply, feeling it weave through us both.
The bond turned my satiated body into raw need. Twisting it with so much desperation, no drug could touch it.
“Warwick,” I growled. Grabbing his head, I yanked him up. The moment he was on his feet, I shoved him flat on the bed, crawling over him.
His eyes glowed, his cock so hard the veins strained against the skin.
“Brexley,” he snarled as I straddled him. I could hear the desperation tight in his vocals. “Fuckin’ ride me, woman.” His hands clamped down on my hips. I grabbed him, positioning him at my entrance, feeling my legs shake with need.
“Ko-vacs.” He grunted, his grip yanking me down as he slammed into me.
“Fuucck!” I heard us both bellow. It was almost too much. The high of opium and the rush of our bond turned me into a ferocious fiend. Raw, feral, and unbridled. I couldn’t seem to ride him hard enough.
We were loud, savage, and brutal.
I could feel eyes on us; I could see people getting off with us. Their moans and cries only created more energy between us—like a wave that would never stop breaking over the rocks. We could never get enough, never get close enough.
“Fuck, princess,” Warwick hissed, slamming up into me, hitting me deeper.
“Don’t ever stop.” I tipped back, changing my position slightly, causing him to bark out, his eyes rolling back.
“Never,” he huffed, his hand smacking at my ass, sending tingles through me.
“Warwick...” My nails clawed into his chest.
“I know what you want, princess.” As soon as he said it, his shadow glided up behind me, nipping at my ear. “To have us both.”
I whimpered, feeling Warwick’s other hands glide over my skin, cupping my breasts, the feel of his skin pressing into me from behind, his mouth biting into my neck.
Our rhythm slowed into deeper and longer strokes, desire and lust curling my head back into the shadow. It wasn’t completely solid yet, but the more I let go of my thoughts, gave over to us, the more real it became.
“Brexley,” he whispered in my ear, his palm trailing down my spine, pushing me slightly over. I rolled deeper into Warwick, his fingers digging into my thighs as I felt his other tongue slide down my back, parting me from behind.
“Oh, gods...” I breathed out, my lids fluttering, my gaze connecting with aqua eyes, as I felt his tongue go deeper.
“This might still hurt.” Warwick clutched my face, pulling my chest against his, kissing me deeply. “Relax.” That’s when I felt him press his cock into me from behind.
I gasped roughly, my nerves burning, air locking in my chest as he pushed into me.
“Holy fuck.” Warwick’s head tipped back, a loud moan coming from him as he slipped his finger over my clit, rolling his thumb over it.
Feeling Warwick’s shadow push deeper into me, spinning my head and spreading euphoria through my veins.
I cried out, rocking between the two bodies pressed into me, sparking the savage part of me back to life. Warwick sat up, reaching deeper, his mouth sucking on my breasts as his shadow fucked me from behind, his lips nipping at my neck.
I gave myself over to it, indulging in the utter bliss.
No guilt or death.
No torture or pain.
No prisons or test labs.
It was just us.
We would have to face it all soon enough, but right now, we took pleasure, we stole joy, we robbed grief of its hold on us.
“You like that, princess?” Warwick’s spirit grunted in my ear, hitting harder and faster. “Me fucking your pussy and ass.”
“Yes,” I heaved, feeling the buzz of heat, the edge of oblivion coming for us.
Warwick snarled, flipping me over and propping me up on my hands and knees.
“I need to feel the real thing.” He grabbed my hair, yanking it back as he pushed into me, my hands clawing and scratching at the bedding. Feeling the real thing seemed like he was splitting me apart. “Holy fuck... holy fuuuuccckk,” he moaned.
“Warwick!” My eyes watered. Through the pain, my muscles burned with desire.
“I got you, princess.” His shadow’s tongue slipped into my pussy, sucking on my clit.
I bellowed as he yanked me up to his chest, his hand circling my neck, pounding into me as he devoured my pussy.
“Oh, gods... oh, gods...” My body shook violently.
His shade moved in front of me. Feeling just as real as the other, he positioned himself, sandwiching me between the two, before thrusting into my pussy.
I couldn’t even scream. My nerves were ravished and shredded by him filling me so deeply. I could almost feel them rubbing together, clawing down my bones. I cried out, my body almost going limp. The two Warwicks pressed me between them, our bodies rolling and moving together.
Pleasure.
Pain.
Warwick’s tempo picked up, his hand gripping my neck tighter, squeezing until sparks burst behind my lids. Screaming, I felt myself explode. Warwick’s shadow moved, his mouth lapping at my folds as I came, making me orgasm so hard my sight blinked out.
Fire bulbs flickered, a few bursting, sprinkling glass down from the ceiling, a rumble of thunder, a breeze sweeping through the stagnant underground room, dispersing the thick clouds of opium. Loud moans echoed through the room in unison, the energy from everyone’s release at once only heightening ours.
Warwick roared, his hot cum spilling inside me so much it gushed down my thighs. Our chests heaved together, our muscles quaking. It took several moments for us to even be able to breathe, frozen in overwhelming ecstasy.
“Fuck, princess... that was... fuck...” Warwick exhaled heavily against my neck. “I love my dick still coming inside you while I can taste your release on my tongue.”
No words found their way to my lips. No brain activity besides the rush still zooming over me, the heat of our skin, the violent trembling of my body. I could feel the withdrawal already setting in. The need for more. My addiction to him.
Warwick pulled out slowly, more of his claim sliding down my leg.
His hand cupped my cheek, twisting my chin to him, and he kissed me fervently. Lowering me down on the bed, he gathered up my shivering form, pressing me into him, my head on his good shoulder.
“How’s your headache now?” He sounded smug and cocky, making me snort. I couldn’t say he didn’t have the right to be after that, and I knew our wounds were mostly healed. I felt no pain anywhere, just absolute gratification, my muscles melting into him.