Page 171 of Slashed Bonds
We stand like that for a minute, all of us panting, bodies shaking, anchored together by the force of what just happened.
My head lolls forward onto Killian’s shoulder, my cheek pressed against the damp heat of his skin. I can feel the fine tremor running through the muscles of his arms as he holds my weight.
Nikolai keeps his hand fisted in my hair, but the grip has gentled into something almost reverent, his thumb stroking slow circles against my scalp.
The air is thick with us—the overlapping scents of sweat and slick and Alpha pheromones hanging in the steam like a heavy, possessive perfume. It’s insane that this is just sex after breakfast, and yet it feels like a door swinging open onto some deeper truth.
Like maybe the things I want aren’t just shameful secrets to be locked away.
Nikolai chuckles, low and rough, before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him.
“How strong is Mommy feeling?” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot. “Strong enough to watch Daddy fulfill her request?”
Some reserve of energy I didn’t know I had answers him.
He guides me back against the cool shower tile, his palm flat against my stomach until he’s sure my legs will hold.
His other hand is working his own knot, still thick and swollen, and the sight of it—the sheer size of him—makes my breath catch. How did I take that?
Killian watches with a dark smirk, his gaze locking with Nikolai’s in a look so full of heat it feels like a physical touch.
As if we haven’t been filthy enough already.
Then they’re kissing—not gentle or polite, but hungry and sloppy, all tongue and teeth and shared breath.
I watch, mesmerized, a flutter low in my belly answering the raw display.
Killian drops to his knees without breaking rhythm, taking Nikolai into his mouth in one smooth motion. His hands work Nikolai’s knot with practiced pressure, and Nikolai curses, hips twitching as he fights back a groan.
“I wanna hear you, Daddy,” I say, my voice coming out higher than usual, stripped raw and laced with a boldness I don’t recognize. “Mommy wants to hear you’re enjoying yourself.”
That breaks him.
A ragged moan tears from his throat as he fists a hand in Killian’s hair, holding him still as he thrusts into his mouth—deep and claiming.
The sight is something I’ll replay forever. Or at least until we do it again.
Hell…maybe next time we’ll have Captain here too…watching…
My teeth catch my lower lip, biting down to keep from crying out as two fingers slide into my own slick heat, working in time with the brutal rhythm of Nikolai fucking Killian’s mouth.
The air is thick with the sounds of it—wet, sloppy suction, the choked-off groans from Killian’s throat, Nikolai’s guttural curses in what sounds like Russian, then French, then something raw and ancient that might be Old Norse. His control shatters; his hips stutter and he comes hard down Killian’s throat with a ragged shout.
The sight alone is enough to undo me.
A broken whimper escapes as I press my thighs tight around my own hand, climax ripping through me so fiercely my vision blurs at the edges. My release coats my fingers, glistening and trembling.
Nikolai pulls out of Killian’s mouth with a soft, wet pop.
He doesn’t break stride—just shifts his weight and closes the space between us in two steps. His hand wraps around my wrist, lifting my slick-smeared fingers to his mouth.
His tongue—broad and warm—licks a slow, filthy stripe from knuckle to fingertip, cleaning every trace of me away without breaking eye contact.
My jaw goes slack. I can’t speak, can’t breathe.
Amusement glints in his blown-wide pupils, dark and knowing. He releases my fingers with a soft sound, turns his head, and leans into Killian—positioning himself so I have a perfect view as he kisses him deep and claiming.
Their tongues slide together, mingling the taste of come and my arousal without hesitation.
