Page 99 of Fallen Nocturne

I know it. The steady, merciless way his fingers work me while his other self keeps my mouth occupied. They are taking me apart from both ends. I can’t do anything about it because my hands are bound. Every time I try to close my legs his knee presses between mine and holds them open.

“Just give them back and we will stop,” the winged one reminds me. His thumb circles my clit and my spine arches. “Any time.”

I try to shake my head but the wingless one's mouth is still on mine. He bites my lower lip and I whimper.

“Speak for yourself,” the wingless one says against my mouth. “I have no intention of stopping.”

Two fingers push inside me. I clench around them involuntarily, my bound hands flexing uselessly behind my back. He curls them, finds that spot, and my vision goes white at the edges.

“I won’t give them back—” I can’t finish the sentence because his fingers are pumping now, steady and relentless.

"Finish that sentence," he says. "I dare you."

The wingless one’s mouth travels down my throat, sucking and kissing the skin over my pulse. His hands tilt my jaw to give him access while behind me the winged one’s fingers drive deeper, faster. The orgasm builds fast.

“Come,” the wingless one says against my ear.

I shatter. The orgasm rips through me and I scream. My legs give out completely. They hold me up between them, four hands keeping me vertical while I shake and convulse and sob through the aftershocks.

I’m still trembling when the winged one pulls his fingers free and replaces them with something else. He enters me from behind and the stretch punches a broken sound from my chest.

Full. So full.

He seats himself inside me with one slow, devastating thrust and holds there, letting me feel every inch while the wingless one watches my face with those burning eyes.

“The rings,” the winged one says again. His voice is strained now, rougher, the control slipping.

“No,” I gasp, and he starts to move.

Every thrust sends a shockwave through me that the wingless one answers with his mouth. His lips drag across my collarbone while his fingers trace lazy circles around my nipple. He pinches just hard enough to make me cry out.

Pleasure stacks on top of pleasure until I cannot tell where one wave ends and the next begins. My body is not mine anymore. It belongs to both of them and they know it.

Behind me, the winged one's rhythm turns merciless. His hips slam forward harder, faster, each thrust driving the air from my lungs. His thumb circles my clit and I shatter. My inner walls clamp around him and he groans, low and ragged. But he doesn't stop.

He doesn't even slow down.

“How many?” the winged one breathes against my shoulder. “How many times can you come before you give them back?”

I’m crying. Tears slide down my cheeks and the wingless one kisses them away. His lips brush my wet eyelashes, then my temples, before finding the corner of my mouth. The gentleness is so at odds with the wildness still burning behind his eyes.

“Give them back and this ends,” the wingless one whispers against my lips.

I shake my head. I am stubborn, stupid, sobbing and bound, but I still refuse. The gold ring belongs to my family, and the rattan ring feels like it belongs on my finger.

I will not give them up.

Some wicked, reckless part of me does not want this pleasure to end either.

But I want it on my terms.

The shadow vines still bind my arms behind my back. I know these shadows. In dream after dream they have held me, chased me, caught me, but they have also released me when the pleasure became too much. They are fond of me somehow. Whatever lives inside them listens when I speak.

My fingers find the nearest tendril. I stroke it gently, the way one might soothe a frightened animal.

“Be more gentle,” I whisper through my tears. “Please.”

The vine shudders beneath my touch. For one impossible moment, the dark tendril flushes warm, as though something inside it is embarrassed. Then it unravels from my arms and melts into the floor, taking every last binding with it.