Descend into Madness: A Vampire Ménage Romance (A Wonderlust Adventure Book 1) by Maddison Cole

Author:Maddison Cole [Cole, Maddison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dirty Talk Publishing
Published: 2023-01-26T18:30:00+00:00

22

Without closing my eyes, I press my lips against Tweed’s. He doesn’t move, the hookah in his system enough to forget his no kissing rule. But he doesn’t push me away, so that’s a green light in my book. Nibbling lightly, my mouth travels to his jawline and down his neck. I take a moment to breathe over his pulse, enjoying the role reversal of his breath hitching.

Like the wood around us, a fresh earth smell clings to his skin. Like recently churned soil mixed with a hint of smoke. Homely, with an undercurrent of danger and a heavy helping of mystery. My mouth travels to the collar of his leather jacket before his hand wraps around my throat, halting my descent.

“We-” Tweed grunts and stops himself. “I’ve waited too long to let you take control.” I open my mouth to respond and Tweed’s other arm shoots upwards, catching an apple that was hurtling towards my head. I spear Cash with a narrowed gaze as he slips off the mushroom and strolls over, as if he didn’t just try to kill me by Granny Smith. Tweed shoves the apple into my mouth like a prized pig in time for Cash to hand him the hookah.

“Take the edge off, brother,” Cash drawls and Tweed shoulder barges him.

“Fuck off,” his twin growls back, taking a long drag. His eyes not leaving mine for a millisecond. “Either of you talk, I’m gone.” Careful to not let either step into their eyeline, both sets of glowing green eyes feast on me. From my gigantic blonde hair to my blue eyes and slender neck. Down to my tits, where my nipples harden beneath the sheer heat of their gazes against the chill of night.

Cash moves first, bending low. I widen my stance, but nothing apart from his breath fans my pussy. Retrieving a vine, he slinks it around an ankle and ties a knot there. Tight enough to cut off my circulation, before doing the same on the next. Another piece scrapes my calf, dragging the rough length upwards. With deft fingers, theatrical knots are fastened around my thighs, more for decoration than purpose.

All the while, Tweed stares on. The hand cemented around my neck is at odds with the soft pad of a thumb stroking my erratic pulse.

I struggle against the desire to move, my hammering heart ready to dive into this twin freak fest. But with the hookah in Tweed’s hand practically empty, I know I need to savor this. The fantasy I almost didn’t dare dream, because not having it hurt more than admitting I might never find Wonderland again. Yet here we are.

Cash stands now, drawing me a step forward by my wrist, putting me directly in Tweed’s personal space. Winding that same wrist behind my back, he takes the other and I’m sure he’s about to secure me to the pole. Wrong again.

Placing my hands on my own elbows, the vine is threaded around my forearms, fastening them tight. Tugging tightly, he uses that same vine around my stomach and beneath my breasts.

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