The harder I fuck her, the harder she trembles and pumps her hips, grinding into me. Her pussy rises and falls in the air, breathing, drooling, until she’s squeezing out jets of cum and juices all over me and herself, without me even stuffing that hole full.
It seems Skartovius began to break her, and now I’ll get to finish the job by keeping her ass plugged. It’s igniting a constant stream of filthy language, filthy moans, and filthy orgasms from my little grimmer.
Having my hands free means I can lean forward, tighten a hand around her throat ever-so-meticulously, and lightly choke her as she comes. This only erupts an even harder orgasm, and I start to wonder if she’ll ever dry up. The room is absolutely covered in her essence, and she seems to be showing no signs of stopping.
“You fuck my ass so well, Master,” she groans through her tightened throat. “Fuck.”
I loosen my hold when her face starts to turn cherry-red, and move to her tits, twisting and teasing and flicking her hard nipples to erupt different erogenous zones.
It’s only when I’m fully mounted inside her, the curve of her large ass cheeks pressing into my thighs, that I feel my balls tighten and my cock throb. “Shit, grimmer, I can’t hold—”
“Do it! Fill my fat ass with your cum, you smarmy grayskin!”
She’s lost her tongue as well as her mind. My queen only ever gets this way when she can’t control herself. It certainly inspires me, and I can only hold back for another few thrusts inside her tight hole—
Before we’re coming together. Her body twitches and spasms from my pulsating cock. I pump my seed deep into her, trying as hard as I can to fill her belly from the back.
It’s an insane moment, all four of us working with different missions on different bodies. But the end result is the same, and as I’m groaning and Seph is moaning at our joint completion, I hear a guttural grunt from Skartovius and a howling orgasm from Garroway behind us in the hall.
The sounds of panting and smacking flesh finally die down a few minutes later, but I wonder if they’ll ever be able to get thescentof our deeds out of this place . . . or if they’ll have to forbid anyone from ever going this deep in the labyrinth again.
Chapter 36
Sephania
The meeting with the power players of Nuhav takes place just three nights later. When Antones is put onto a task, he works fast. I hardly have time to think much about my new alignment I have with my mates, and how unexpectedly delicious the other evening turned out.
Skartovius told me to take care of Garroway “better than he has,” but I don’t know the first thing about taking care of anyone. I can hardly take care of myself.
Not to mention, I’m not sure if Garro feels the same way about us. He hasn’t exactly been shouting from the rooftops about his feelings at being freed from Skar’s bloodbond. I have to pry for every detail, until I eventually stop because I know he’ll talk to me when he’s ready and has his mind gathered.
For now, there’s business to do. I didn’t tell Antones the subject of this meeting, only that I needed to see some heavy-hitters of the city to help squash things.
Ant delivered, of course. The fucking champion.
We’re to meet the group he’s assembled aboveground, on the Floorboards, at an old flesh-trading house that’s been abandoned and ridden of the scourge of the sex slavers.
In fact, as we draw closer, I notice it’s the same place I came to as a young Grimson with Ant and Master Lukain, where Antones bought two young boys to save them from the tortures of evil men. As we approach, I wonder what ever became of Faidy and Genth. I haven’t seen them around the Firehold.Silverknights, perhaps? They had the look of valor about them, even as twelve- and sixteen-year-olds. Hopefully they’re still alive.
“Just like old times, eh?” I grunt to Lukain and Antones beside me as we walk. We’re going at a slow, measured pace because of Antones’ limp and cane. Back then, he was certainly more hale, and I could never foresee the sturdy right-hand of Master Lukain withering to the passage of time.
Most Grimsons don’t make it that long.
I have all four of my mates with me, obviously. We’re not about to get trapped in a ramshackle building with our pants down. I figure four beefy bloodsuckers at my side will discourage anyone from attempting something stupid, especially in Nuhav, dealing with humans. If we were meeting vampires in Olhav, I would have brought an army. Here, four should provide enough of an intimidation factor.
We climb the rickety steps into the rotting wood of the abandoned building. The area the building is in has been cleared of any wayward souls for this meeting, it appears. No one stands at the door, no one tries to stop us from entering.
I hear a voice inside that makes my skin crawl before I’ve even walked in.
“The fact I’m being seen in a disreputable, rundownhovellike this should be proof enough of my loyalty—”
“A house of ill-repute? The poor and destitute are supposed to be your purview, old man!”
There’s another voice I recognize—one that doesn’t make me twitch so badly.
It takes a moment at the door to gather my wits. My mates glance at me with concern. I clear my throat, saying, “I’m all right,” and we enter.
I won’t back down to my past tonight. Not when so much is at stake.