My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 112

"We're all monsters in some way, doll. Even the humans." He said softly, tracing his thumb down my jaw. "Our world is just as brutal and cruel as theirs, only in a different way. You weren't given powers to suppress them."

There was no contempt in his eyes, no flicker of anything other than pure acceptance. It made my chest flutter and renewed warmth grow between my legs. Ethan tracked the change with darkened eyes and pressed me tighter against the wall.

"I'm not going to be gentle this first time," he murmured softly, brushing the wet strands of hair from my forehead.

My core throbbed painfully when I felt the swollen head of him brush against my inner thigh. The groan that rippled through him from a simple touch sent my brain into a euphoric haze. Good, I wanted to say. The desperate sense of urgency that pulsed through me mimicked the feel of adrenaline. I needed him in his entirety, his hands and lips painting the canvas of my body. I was sure I'd go insane if he took his time with me, drawing out the torture until I could take no more.

The look in my eyes was confirmation enough, and he took my lips with a ferocity that made me gasp. He set me down on my two feet before nudging me closer to the glass wall of the shower.

"Put your hands on the glass, and don't move them," his voice was low and raspy by my ear.

His hands felt like hot coals as they guided me forward. The pleasurable bite of cold lashed at my nipples when he pushed me against the dewy glass. After spreading my legs with a nudge of his foot, he positioned himself behind me. I could feel the heat of him at my back, and every second I waited only increased the building moisture between my legs.

A yelp escaped my lips when I felt the head of him rub against my clit. Electric shocks danced through me, making me shake from the sensitivity. As he pressed himself against my opening, a few inches slid inside easily due to how wet I was. There was always a flicker of pain whenever one of the twins entered me, stretching me to accommodate their thick lengths. My hips bucked, pushing my bottom against him.

"Fuck, just the feel of you is going to make me come," he hissed, digging his fingers into my hips until I stilled.

I could feel half of his length pulsing inside me, reacting to the tightness that held him in a vice grip. He paused for a few agonizing seconds before shoving the rest of his thick length in with one rough thrust. My nipples flattened against the glass of the shower, and a sound foreign to my ears left my mouth. One of Ethan’s hands fell against the glass, while the other reached forward and grazed the sensitive folds of my pussy. Pain and pleasure melted into one another, tearing the light and color from my eyes.

"All fucking mine..." he panted between thrusts, running his slick fingers over my clit until my legs shook.

My mind was in such a haze that I hadn't thought of peering through the glass just inches away from my face. The water in the shower had begun to cool down, making the condensation run in thick streams. My eyes widened, and a jolt of surprise raced through me when I met a pair of dark eyes. Kieran was leaning against the sink, very much watching what was happening between his brother and me. My legs were spread wide, and Ethan’s hand was all too easy to spot as he continued stroking me to climax. I hadn't a clue how I didn't feel the weight and heat of his eyes on my skin or how I hadn't noticed his naked form standing there.

My eyes were drawn even lower as I saw his hand move to grasp his length. Navy veins bulged from his shaft, ending at a swollen head. I cursed and whimpered as Ethan continued thrusting into me, stretching me with every grunt, all while I watched his brother.

"You like it when my brother watches, don't you?" Ethan snarled in my ear, pressing even harder against my clit.

"Yes—I fucking love it," I gasped, spurred on by the filthy words that came from his mouth, ones laced with so much need it made me feel drugged and delirious.

Precum glistened on the head of Kieran’s cock as he quickened his pace to match Ethan’s. I watched the way Kieran’s hips pumped, his thick shaft sliding against his hand when Ethan delivered the final incinerating blow that sent me spiraling.

"Oh fuck, that's it," Ethan groaned against my shoulder, the sound gravelly and dazed.

His thrusts grew rough and his words incoherent as he grew stiff inside me. My core pulsed and throbbed, milking him for everything he had. I wouldn't be satisfied until I felt him dripping down my thighs.

"You take my cock so well, doll."

I was the first to topple over the edge, followed by Ethan and then Kieran. I remained where I was for a few moments, feeling the moisture leak from between my legs. When I was sure I could move without falling over, I went to turn the water heat back up. Kieran hopped in the shower with us, which meant I had to smack two sets of wandering hands away as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. Once I felt like I had scrubbed the grime of the High Table from beneath my skin, I wrapped myself in the softest towel to ever exist.

"We should upgrade our safe houses," Kieran pointed out as both he and Ethan emerged from the shower.

"I had no clue you guys had safe houses," I shook my head. "There's so much I still don't know about my own pack."

Ethan stepped forward and gave me one of his lopsided grins. The sight made relief blossom in my chest, proof that he was still himself after what he had been through.

"No one blames you for not knowing much," he reassured me, tugging at the towel I had around my torso. His grin only widened when I relented and let the warm piece of fabric fall to the ground. "The High Table has been gunning for you since the very beginning. Once all of this is over, you'll have the time to learn everything you want to know."

I was silenced by his lips before I could say anything further. My train of thought was derailed completely when we broke apart, and my two mates led me to our inviting bed.

I was woken to the sound of shouting, two heated voices clashing against one another. It took me a few minutes to register where I was and who I was with. Both the twins' masculine scents lulled me back into that blissful line between sleep and consciousness. When the faces of Kat and Zack flashed in my mind, I jolted up from the bed, the haze permanently broken. Kieran reacted first to my movements, sitting up as his eyes scanned the room. Ethan was just a few seconds later.

"I'm not sure if she's brave or a fool for going back for him," Kieran sighed, his voice still deliciously rough from the early morning hours. He ran a hand down his face and glanced towards the windows, staring at the sliver of sunlight that peeked through. "We're going to have to keep them from killing each other. Something tells me we're all running on just a few hours of sleep."

Thankfully, the closets were fully stocked with clothes. It was a hit or miss to see what fit best, but after a few tries, I found something that covered the important parts. With every movement, the muscles in my legs ached, along with the welt on my bottom, which may or may not be in the shape of Kieran’s hand.

We came downstairs just in time to see a red-faced Kat emerge from the kitchen. Eve was perched on the couch, looking much like a cat would as its eyes drifted lazily at the chaos unfolding. She held a bag of chips in her hand, shoving one into her mouth as she watched Kat. The distinct scent of barbecue chips permeated the air, along with the acidic taste of Kat’s rage.

Zack, unbothered as ever, was seated at the end of the sectional. A crystal glass of what I suspected was alcohol sat on the table beside him. After a whiff in his direction, I could easily tell he had been drinking.

"Day drinking already?" Kieran asked, his voice flat.

"I spent the last four hours sleeping, slowly healing from my father's favorite brand of torture. I can feel the silver in my veins still, and the Advil in the fucking cabinet isn't going to help," Zack snapped but rolled his eyes and huffed when Kieran took a step forward. The man wasn't piss drunk, but his guard was most definitely lowered from however much alcohol he had consumed.

Kat came out from the kitchen with two plates in her hands. Thick pancakes rose from the plate in a tower of golden sticky syrup. A stack of bacon sat on each side of the plates, sending the smoky scent into the air. She handed one to Eve and sat down beside her.

"Oh, I didn't expect you three up so early," Kat cleared her throat, trying to hide some of the anger that still pulsed through her.

"Since you patched me up with your mediocre sewing skills, think you could bring me a plate of food?" Zack swiveled his eyes towards Kat and asked smoothly, his face a mask of cool indifference. "I'd hate to tear a stitch and have to suffer through a repeat."

I instinctively took a step back when Kat set her plate on the table, making it clatter as she stormed to her feet. Her emotions were a thunderstorm of anger, resentment, regret, and just a whisper of need. Her emotions had been stronger since Zack rejected her, more volatile when it came to his petty jabs. I couldn't blame her, knowing how she felt whenever he was near. Rejection turned happiness to anger and sucked the joy out of every moment. It felt like seeing the world in black and white when everyone around you marveled at the colors.

"If it weren't for my mediocre sewing job, as you so ignorantly call it, you'd still be bleeding out. Not to mention Eve and I carried your heavy ass through the forest for hours to get you here," she snarled, her fists clenched at her sides. I was nearly eighty percent sure that if he weren't already injured, Kat would've swung at him. Her voice grew a few octaves as she sharpened her words and flung them like daggers, "I have never met someone so fucking ungrateful. If you put as much effort into doing the right thing as you did complaining, you would've rescued half the white wolves in your father's pack by now!"

What was even stranger than the anger that crackled and surrounded Kat like tendrils of flame was what I felt coming from Zack. Since meeting Zack Billford, I felt next to nothing when it came to his emotions. He had been refined by his father, molded and morphed into the damaged man he was today. I wasn't sure how much he had to drink, but it was affecting that carefully crafted wall he placed over his emotions.

The wall held them back, making him all but numb to the world. It was how he survived—a defense mechanism bashed into him by Maverick. I saw it for what it was, a way to survive the horrors of his life without being affected.