I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 91: Chapter 91

Lysander’s pov

You would think after the mating ritual, the heavens would start singing or something. Okay maybe that was a slight exaggeration but I expected things would be different but it was pretty much the same.

Except my body felt different, every nerve in my body was humming in tune to Drake’s heartbeat and the raw, desperate hunger that had tormented me for weeks was gone, replaced by a warm, bone-deep satiety that flowed through my limbs.

I pulled on a robe and walked to the living room. The scent of roasted garlic, seared steak, and fresh herbs filled the room.

Drake was already standing near the dark wood sideboard. He wore a crisp black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, displaying the thick silver watch on his left wrist and the pale, smooth skin that held no trace of the cut he had offered me the night before.

He looked up and flashed me a smile, only pulling out the chair as he waited for me to sit.

On the table sat a platter of rare beef, roasted root vegetables, and a tall crystal glass filled with wine.

"Eat," he murmured softly, leaning down to press a cool kiss against the top of my head before sitting across from me. "You need to replenish your energy after the fast."

I picked up the fork, and brought the food to my lips. I closed my eyes just as the taste burst in my tongue melting into different juicy flavors.

The food tasted rich and intense, my heightened senses picking up every layer of spice, every drop of savory juice. I ate in quiet comfort, watching him across the table as he watched me.

When I set the fork down, Drake leaned back in his chair, swirling his own glass of dark liquid.

"We are going out tonight," he said, "There is an underground gathering at the Vault, it is a private club operating underground. I have business to attend to, and I want you at my side."

My breath hitched slightly at the mention of a club, after what happened last time, I didn’t want to go anywhere. But when I looked into his eyes, there was no threat, only the calm, steady weight of his ownership.

"I’ll get ready," I agreed softly, rising from the table. "I should shower first."

"I will bathe you,"

My heart gave a sudden thump when he said that.

He stepped up behind me, his cool hands coming down over my shoulders, guiding me out of the dining and toward the adjoining bath chamber.

The bathroom was vast, lined with dark slate stone, centered around a large glass enclosure with double waterfall showerheads. Drake walked in, turning the brass handles until steam began to billow upward, filling the dark room with steam.

He stood behind me, his fingers working silently at the belt of my robe. He slipped the silk off my shoulders, letting it pool around my ankles, exposing my skin to the warm, mist-filled air. His hands followed the path of the silk, smoothing down my back, over the curve of my waist, resting heavy against my hips.

"Step in," he purred against my ear.

I blushed and stepped in to the glass enclosure. I moaned the second the water bit my skin, cascading down my hair and face.

Drake stepped in behind me, his fully nude frame pressing against my back against the spray.

I was stuck between the hot water and his cold skin.

He reached for a bar of soap. He worked it between his broad palms until a thick, creamy lather covered his hands, then pressed his palms flat against my chest.

His hand slid down my chest, over my ribs and stomach. His thumb traced the line of my hipbones with an agonizing, torturous patience.

He took his time, rinsing the soap away with his hand as he slicked back my wet hair, tilting my head back against his chest so he could wash the faint, lingering scent of last night’s sweat from my neck.

"Drake..." I gasped, my throat arching under his touch as his fingers slid down my thigh.

"Shh," he murmured, his teeth brushing the side of my neck right over the healing marks of his fangs. "Let me take care of you, little bird."

His hands moved down, slick with soap and water, wrapping around my cock.

I let out a low, shaky moan, my hands reaching out to press against the wet slate wall in front of me to keep my balance. The heat of the shower combined with the heavy, narcotic hum of his power in my blood made my head spin.

It was like I was under a spell.

He stroked my cock slowly, his thumb circling the tip, drawing out needy, high pitched whimpers from my lips.

He pressed himself flush against my ass, his fully erect cock sliding against the curve of my thighs, teasing the sensitive entrance he had claimed so violently on the altar the night before.

I shifted my hips back instinctively, seeking his heat, needing his cock to fill me up. "Please... Drake, please..."

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

I turned my head over my shoulder, my wet eyes meeting his glowing red gaze through the dense steam.

He caught my left leg and lifted my thigh over his hip, holding me firmly against the wall. He guidened himself to my entrance and pushed forward till he stretched me wide.

A choked gasp tore from my throat as he slid all the way inside me in one smooth, uninterrupted glide.

He began to move. He pulled back until he was nearly out, then drove back in with a long, deep, rolling thrust that hit the deep center of my core.

My mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure shot straight up my spine, sparkling behind my eyelids like white lightning.

My fingers scrambled against the wet stone, unable to find purchase, until Drake reached down, locking his fingers tightly through mine, anchoring my hand against the wall beneath his own massive palm.

"You fit me so perfectly," he growled into my ear, his hips setting a steady, powerful rhythm that made the water splash wildly against our legs.

He rocked against me, his chest heaving against my shoulder blades, his free hand wrapping firmly around my waist to hold me flush against his pelvis.

The sensation of his cool body against mine under the torrent of hot water was overwhelming. I felt every ridge, every pulse of his length sliding inside me, stretching my walls until I couldn’t tell where my body ended and his began.

"Drake!" I cried out, my voice echoing off the tile as he hit that same agonizingly sweet spot again and again. "I... I can’t... it’s too much!"

"Take it, Lysander," he purred, his voice thick with dark satisfaction. "Look at the way my cock fits inside you, it’s like you were meant for it. It’s all yours. Everything I have belongs to you."

He sped the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, driving me up against the wall with a rhythm that rattled my teeth.

His teeth sank lightly into the skin of my shoulder, not breaking the flesh, but marking me with enough pressure to send a fresh wave of electric heat rushing straight to my pelvis.

The coil in my gut snapped tight. My inner muscles clamped around him in a tight, pulsing spasm as a brilliant, shattering climax tore through me.

I sobbed out his name, my knees giving out entirely as the release washed over me in heavy, rolling waves.

Drake let out a low, guttural growl, his hips driving hard into mine three more times, sinking as deep as he could go before he froze, pouring his heat deep inside me as his own release took hold of him.

He held me pinned against the wall for a long, quiet minute, his heavy chest rising and falling against my back, his arms wrapped tight around my waist to support my limp, trembling frame.

The hot water continued to cascade over us, washing away the slick sweat and soap, leaving only the quiet hum of the shower and our mingled breathing.

When he finally slid out of me, my legs buckled, but he caught me effortlessly in his arms, lifting me bridal-style out of the glass enclosure. He wrapped a thick, warm towel around my shivering frame, setting me gently on the marble vanity bench.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against my swollen lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction.

"Now," he murmured, wiping a wet strand of hair from my forehead. "Let’s dress you for the club."

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