Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

(Warning: More mature content ahead.)

Celeste’s POV

*****

Gurgling and stifled whimpers filled the room as I switched from Azrael’s dick to Atlas’. In turn, they both grunted, their fingers coiling around strands of my hair.

Saliva trailed down my mouth. My eyes watered as they pushed themselves deeper, expanding the walls of my mouth.

My whole body was on fire—metaphorically and to some extent, literally.

Magic pulsed through my cells, alive and more ravenous than I was.

Through all this, Luther took his time stripping me of my panties. I felt his dick slip out of his shorts fully, both clothes discarded carelessly.

He spanked my ass cheeks hard, fingers gripping and tugging until his dick sat between my ass crack. Then he brought himself lower, rubbing against my cunt in slow, agonising ways that made my mind numb with need.

"F–Fuck..." I stretched a hand back, trying to push his dick away from my entrance.

But before I could succeed, another hand clamped around my wrist.

Not his.

No—Silas’.

"Just relax, love." He cooed with that same baritone that always made me thirsty for him. "We’ll find a rhythm suitable for all of us. Soon enough."

He caught both my wrists in one hand, pinning them on my back.

I was trapped between four smoking hot bodies. And gods be damned if I wanted to escape.

Before I had the chance to collect myself, Luther pressed two fingers slowly on my entrance. He didn’t push in, instead kneading around my pussy in gentle circles.

I was going to moan when Atlas pushed his dick past my lips again, his hand resting on my chin.

It was at that moment that Luther finally grunted. "Look at you. So fucking wet." A finger slid into me with ease, finding my clit within a few seconds.

The pleasure made me jerk, my neck snapping back. "Argh—you’re going to make me come." I managed to sputter before Atlas brought my sore mouth back to his length again.

Gods, he was finally letting his true desires out. They all were.

And I was loving it!

"That’s the plan, honey." He leaned down, kissing the small of my back. "As many times as possible."

His strokes were slow at first.

Testing. Shifting or turning depending on how my body vibrated in response.

Then—they became faster. Harder. Each flick of my clit made me want to levitate.

Sometimes he’d pull his finger out, using his dick to tease before slipping one or two fingers into me.

The buildup was intense. Almost soul-rending.

"Oh, f–fuck!" I screamed, thunder rumbling in unison with my explosive climax.

My juices spilled down my thighs. Not for long though.

Luther brought his mouth there, his tongue licking off every last drop and even driving into my already wrecked cunt.

We’d barely even started and I’d broken apart.

Fuck, should I be embarrassed, thrilled or both?

Fortunately, my mates finally withdrew from me. Atlas caressed my jaw one last time before sliding his cock out of my mouth, strings of my saliva linking me to him.

Silas, quiet and busy massaging my breasts and nipples all this while, gave his brother a nod. The rest of them glanced amongst themselves, Azrael turning around the bed.

I was breathless, my chest was heavy and my thighs still shook from the climax.

Yet these men didn’t spare me for a second—not like I wanted that anyway.

Within seconds, Azrael was behind me as Luther gave him space. All four of them were like a unit during all this. No arguments or territorial posturing.

Just lust and desire locked into sinful precision.

Soon, Azrael’s cold hands gripped my thighs, positioning me until I turned and lay on my back. My hair pooled behind my head, my hands resting beside me.

Meanwhile, Azrael placed himself between my legs, his monstrous cock clear in the dark. He licked a thumb, not giving me time to admire his body.

A gentle push of his thumb into me made me squirm. To my surprise, Atlas knelt above my head, his balls slapping my face. Cleanly shaved and raw with heat.

I licked my bottom lip, several sensations hitting me at once.

My eyes managed to find Luther and Silas, the former kneeling beside Azrael while his brother stayed beside me.

Without being told, I opened my mouth, my gaze locking with Atlas’ as I took him back into my mouth—slow this time. Intentional. My tongue traced, learned, worshipped. His breath fractured above me, fingers tangling in my hair not to force, but to steady himself.

"Celeste..." he rasped, restraint fraying thread by thread.

Between my legs, Azrael’s presence was colder. Focused. His hands skimmed up my thighs, spreading me open with a reverence that felt far more dangerous than hunger. He leaned forward, his breath brushing my ear.

"Look at him," he murmured. "While I make you feel me."

The first press of his length in me stole the air from my lungs.

Not pain.

Not quite pleasure either.

Just overwhelming fullness.

My back arched off the bed, a muffled cry vibrating around Atlas’ dick as Azrael pushed deeper, inch by deliberate inch, like he was claiming sacred ground. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me still as he finally seated himself fully inside me.

The sound he made—low, almost broken—sent a shiver through the bonds.

Atlas cursed softly, his control slipping as my mouth tightened in response to the stretch, to the way Azrael began to move. Slow at first. Measured. Every thrust purposeful, syncing with the pull of Atlas between my lips.

Luther’s hand braced my waist. Silas’ palm pressed over my racing heart.

And then—

Something in me snapped.

My magic.

Silver light burst from my skin, spilling across the room in blinding waves. The shadows recoiled. The windows rattled as a freezing wind tore through the space, lifting sheets, whipping hair, stealing breath.

Magic roared through my veins like a storm unleashed.

And every one of them felt it.