Page 30 of Hellbent (Snakes & Daggers #1)
It’s unfinished and sparse—no trim, no curtains—but clean and functional. A queen mattress on the floor, a single lamp in the corner, a dresser already cluttered with ephemera: receipts, his watch, a couple of bottles of cologne.
Damian’s lips curl into a slow, wicked smile.
He brushes my hair back tenderly, then tilts his head and leans in.
The brush of his lips is soft, electric, the tip of his tongue teasing mine before our mouths seal together.
I reach for his shoulders, trail my hands down to his biceps, feeling the bulk, the strength in both, want rushing through me in a wave.
Jake steps in behind me, his hands sliding over my waist. “We missed you, baby.”
And then my clothes start to come off.
Their mouths are everywhere—Jake’s gentle and reverent, Damian’s rougher and hungry. They undress me like supplicants performing a sacred duty.
Jake lifts me onto the bed, his hands tracing slow paths down my spine as he lowers me down, and I melt under the tenderness.
Damian’s already stripped off his shirt, tattoos tracing lines across his skin like shadows. He steps between my legs and palms my thighs wide, his hands hot on my skin.
“Fuck the party,” he says, grinning. “This is the only place I want to be.”
Jake brushes a kiss across my cheek, then finds my mouth—deep, soft, adoring—while Damian drops to his knees at the foot of the bed. He drags his tongue up my inner thigh and groans when he tastes me through my panties.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “She’s wet through her panties, Jake.”
He pulls them down slowly, like he wants to savor the sight. Then his mouth is on me, his tongue circling my clit in slow spirals while Jake strokes my hair and whispers how good I’m doing, how pretty I sound when I moan.
My hips lift, instinctive and needy, but Damian presses a firm hand low on my stomach, pinning me down and growling, “Don’t move.”
His tongue flicks out again, maddeningly slow, and I gasp—already trembling.
Jake trails kisses over my shoulder and up my neck, his hand finding my breast, fingers tracing slow, light circles over my nipple.
His mouth finds mine just as Damian sucks hard on my clit—the shock of it ripping through me.
Jake’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, distracting and amplifying all at the same time—and then release hits, sharp and sudden, like a shot fired straight through me.
My body jerks, the orgasm shaking me to my core.
“Oh fuck, baby, yes,” Jake murmurs. “Let go for us.”
I cry out, breath catching, my spine arching under Damian’s hold as my legs tremble.
Then Jake’s pushing his jeans down while kissing me softly, everywhere. Damian wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stands, towering above me with a smug, dangerous glint in his eye.
“Fuck her first,” Jake says, already hard and stroking himself. “I wanna watch.”
Obediently, Damian lines himself up, teasing me with the thick head of his cock, dragging it through the slickness between my legs until I’m squirming.
“You ready for this cock, baby?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”
He pushes in slow, eyes locked on mine the whole time, and as he stretches me open I suddenly come again, rolling my head back, knees trembling. Both men groan in appreciation.
“Jesus,” Damian gasps, voice breaking. “She feels so fucking good.”
He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust making me whimper as I come down. Drawn out, aching strokes that hit just right, again and again. My legs shake as I wrap them around his waist, needing him closer, needing all of him.
Jake stands beside me, stroking himself as he watches. His other hand grips my jaw, turning my face toward him.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he growls. “Getting filled up, breathing heavy. Fuck.”
Damian groans, sweat beading at his temple. “I fucking love the way she sounds. Jesus.”
My whole body starts to tense again.
Damian leans in, kissing me while he fucks me, occasionally breaking free to groan, cry out, his breathing matching the rhythm of Jake’s beside us.
And somehow, unthinkably, my body is locking up again, and then breaking apart—pleasure crashing over me once more. When it subsides, Damian pulls out and trades places with Jake.
Jake turns me over and drags me onto all fours, one hand gripping my hip, and then he slides into me with one hard thrust, and I gasp.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans. “Just like that.”
He pounds into me, deep and ruthless, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip. His rhythm is brutal, hard, and just what I need.
Damian strokes my face and brings two fingers to my lips.
“Open up, baby.”
I do, and he pushes them in slow, eyes burning.
“That’s it,” he whispers, moving his fingers slowly, back and forth over my bottom lip. “Now you’re gonna take my cock.”
He gets on the mattress on his knees, his cock bobbing in front of me, and guides my mouth down on it.
Jake thrusts into me harder. “Oh fuck,” he growls. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“Her mouth feels so fucking good,” Damian moans, rocking his hips to fuck my mouth. “God.”
Jake leans down, mouth near my ear.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Taking him so fucking well. Such a perfect little girl.”
His thrusts grow deeper and rougher. “So perfect,” he moans again. “So fucking good, oh my God.”
His hands curl around my hips, slamming harder against me, as Damian’s breathing starts to get high and stuttered. He grabs my hair, fisting it into a ponytail, and both men are moving against me now, harder and faster. Damian’s rhythm falters for a breath.
“I’m not gonna last,” he pants. “Oh my God, I’m gonna fucking come, princess.”
And then he groans hard, his cock pulsing in my mouth as hot cum hits the back of my throat, and seconds later, Jake is burying himself to the hilt as he comes, too—grinding against me, hands clutching at my hips like he can’t get close enough.
Damian pulls out and falls back on the bed, gasping for air, as Jake collapses half on top of me, pressing kisses into my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. Then he collapses beside me with a grunt and pulls me down with him, curving in behind me, his knees fitted behind mine.
They tuck me between them and for a little while, I forget everything—except the heat of their skin, the weight of their hands, and the way they made me feel.
We lay there for a long while, boneless and blissed out.
It’s peaceful. But beneath the sated warmth and tangled sheets, the memory of Ryder resurfaces—watching me across the room, stone-faced, eyes burning.