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Flint traces his fingers along my collarbone,dipping beneath the torn neckline of my nightgown. “Now we claim our prize.”

Damiano grips my hips, pulling me back against him, letting me feel his hardness pressing into the small of my back. “You were never meant to be hunted by anyone but us,” he murmurs against my ear.

Damiano’s teeth graze my neck, the bite sharp and claiming. A moan escapes me, primal and raw, and they respond with fierce intensity, hands and mouths and bodies demanding everything I have. Flint shoves the fabric off my shoulders, exposing skin to the cold air, to their burning touch. The nightgown falls away, forgotten, and I stand naked in their grasp, prey already consumed.

They move me, lowering me to the ground, to the soft plants and the memories buried there. Flint finds my breasts with his lips, urgent and insistent, while Damiano kneels behind me, his hands spreading my legs open, his breath hot against my thighs. I should feel vulnerable and exposed, but instead, I feel powerful, defiant. Alive.

Flint crashes his mouth against mine, fierce and demanding. I part my lips, letting his tongue in, tasting want and whiskey and something both of us need. His grip on my wrist loosens, slips down to my waist, pulling me tighter, making me gasp into his mouth.

Flint tears at his own clothes, fumbling with his zipper, freeing himself, and then his fingersare working me open, sliding inside, coaxing slick heat with every thrust.

Damiano’s tongue is there, moving in tandem, lapping greedily, and I come apart beneath their ruthless touch.

I arch, meeting them, demanding more. More.

A guttural sound vibrates through Flint’s chest as he pushes into me, filling me completely, and I cry out, more animal than human.

Damiano’s hands are everywhere, his mouth possessive against my skin, marking me as Flint fucks me hard and relentless.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” Flint praises as he thrusts even harder.

They’re wild, untamed, and I match them, taking everything they give, every bruising thrust, every harsh bite.

Flint’s breath comes ragged, mimicking mine, exhaling each moan as he pounds into me.

Damiano shifts, moving to straddle my face, and I taste his hard cock with greedy hunger, feel the weight and heat of him against my lips, as Flint moves faster, deeper, losing control and taking me with him.

Damiano growls, low and approving, tangling a hand in my hair, pushing and pulling and setting the rhythm, and I meet him as Flint’s pace turns desperate.

A cock in my mouth, and a cock in my pussy. Nothing has ever felt so right.

The soft earth shifts beneath me, all of us feral and consuming and alive. Pleasure builds, spiraling, everything blurring into a fevered haze.

Flint drives into me harder, faster, his taut body a reflection of my own undoing. He grabs my hips, pounding recklessly now, relentless, and my moans grow frantic, matching Damiano’s guttural sounds as he fucks my mouth, as he watches Flint take me.

I’m dizzy and breathless and so fucking close. Flint’s thrusts turn wild, like he’s breaking me apart and putting me back together, pushing us both over the edge.

“Come for us,” Damiano orders, voice tight, and I do, spiraling into oblivion as pleasure hits, raw and consuming.

A shaking groan tears through me, through Flint, and I feel him all the way inside as we go over together, body and mind and soul, as Damiano thrusts deep and I swallow him down, his fingers clenching in my hair. Damiano growls, hot and primal, and I feel the jolt as he comes, the musky taste of him coating my tongue as Flint empties himself into me with a shuddering curse.

I am wrecked and wanted and consumed. Claimed a thousand ways.

They collapse against me, their bodies damp with sweat and fog. My pulse thunders in my ears, their harsh breathing mixing with mine. We lie tangled like that for long minutes, the night aircooling us, our hearts slowly finding their rhythm again.

Flint is the first to move, pulling out of me and rolling onto his back with a groan. He drags me over, a possessive arm slinging across my middle. “Damn,” he murmurs, full of awe and satisfaction.

Damiano chuckles low in his throat, shifting to my other side to claim the space there. His lips brush my temple, lingering and tender now. “Our girl,” he says, and there’s something like reverence in his tone.

I curl against them, surrounded by warmth and strength and everything I’ve ever wanted.

I’m finally warm. So fucking warm.

The dead bodies are beneath us… far away and forever covered.

There’s no fear here anymore. No scars we can’t heal. Just us, tangled together in a maze of our own making.