Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Not everything is about your insecurities, Mira!"

The words echo through Mira's head as she walks back to the penthouse. By the time she closes the door of her room, there's a lump in her throat. The lump only grows as Rumi's words replay on a loop, over and over and over.

Mira does her best to ignore it as she strips off her sweat-soaked hoodie and pants and flings them on the floor. She ought to hop in the shower; ought to do stretches and yoga until her heart stops racing.

Instead, Mira heads to her closet.

After the soft, stretchy workout clothes, there's something reassuring about the tight fit of leather. Mira can still move, of course —a hunter must always be ready to fight. But where her workout clothes hugged her gently, the leather encases her like armor, hard and stiff and sharp.

Hunting by oneself is generally considered a bad idea, and Celine has the scars to prove it. Their mentor had to hunt by herself for years. Not that she had a choice; she was the only Sunlight Sister left to defend the honmoon. But then, Celine was hunting while also maintaining a solo career and raising Rumi. Mira has no such distractions. Surely one solo hunt couldn't hurt.

Sneaking out is painfully easy. Zoey's door is closed, vibrating slightly to the bass of the rap music she's blasting. Zoey wouldn't notice a stampede of elephants right now, let alone Mira's quiet steps. Rumi's door is closed too; she won't leave her room until morning.

Not everything is about your insecurities, Mira, Rumi's voice snaps again, and Mira bites her tongue until it bleeds.

Demons don't bleed. Mira's gok-do slashes them into sparkling confetti, as bright and as brief as fireworks against the night sky. There are so many tears in the honmoon, more than she's ever seen before. Every magenta wound means at least one demon, one soul taken. Mira can only race across Seoul so fast, mending the honmoon and sending demons back to Gwi-Ma.

A part of her wishes Rumi and Zoey were here with her, not resting up for the Idol Awards. There's too many holes for Mira to mend them all, and unfortunately, she can only keep going for so long. An exhausted hunter is a dead hunter. She needs to save her strength; there's no chance of a golden honmoon if she screws up her vocals or choreography.

It's past midnight when Mira starts stalking back toward the tower. With battle over, there's nothing to stop the words from coming back. Not everything is about your insecurities, Mira. The phrase twists in her gut like a knife. Rumi's voice shifts and contorts; suddenly it's another voice, soft and cruel. And where will you go? her mother asks. No one wants a vicious thing like you.

When the hot tears begin welling in her eyes, Mira abruptly changes course. She can't cry, she won't. The Saja Boys are supposed to be doing a late night talk show tonight, and the building isn't too far from here. Maybe, if she's lucky, she can catch one of them alone as they leave. Sure, a missing Saja Boy would raise plenty of awkward questions, but Mira doesn't care. That's Rumi's problem, not hers.

Luck is with her. Soon after Mira find a vantage point on a nearby balcony, the Saja Boys walk out of the back exit. No one else is around; there's plenty of safeguards in place to make sure idols don't get mobbed every time they leave a studio.

Mira waits, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. Five are too many; she can't take all five. Then, with a puff of magenta smoke, Jinu disappears. For some reason, that makes the other four boys trade odd glances. Then Mystery shrugs, Baby rolls his eyes, and both of them warp away.

That leaves just Abby and Romance, leaning with their heads bent together. They're talking, their voices too low to hear. Mira makes sure to be even quieter as she descends from the balcony, her gok-do in her hand and murder in her heart. Two demons she can handle, and since the fansign, she's been dying to get her hands on those pink-haired idiots. Why they haven't warped away yet she has no idea, but she's not complaining. Just a little closer—

Mira blinks, and suddenly Romance's hand is on the back of Abby's head. Stunned, she blinks again, just in time to see Romance pull the taller man down into a kiss. The sound of Abby's groan breaks the silence; he doesn't even notice when his stupid yellow beanie falls to the ground. He cups the back of Romance's head with one hand, his bicep flexing as he buries strong fingers in long bubblegum pink hair.

Mira watches, feeling as stupid as the beanie. What is she doing? She should be jumping down for the attack, not staring at two pretty men- no, two pretty demons kissing. She definitely shouldn't be noticing how broad Abby's shoulders are under that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, or thinking about how Romance's long fingers would feel tangled in her hair rather than Abby's.

She's just been thrown off her game, that's all. At least, that's what Mira tells herself when they stop kissing and she decides to follow them through the alleyways. They can't be going far, otherwise they would've warped instead of walked. She's... just seeing what they're up to. It's her duty; this odd behavior could be part of some strange new demonic ploy. Some fans go wild for boys' love; this could be strategic—

But fans only like idols kissing in their fantasies, not in real life. Male idols draping an arm over a shoulder or exchanging coy looks is one thing; anything more than that is taboo, bad publicity, practically suicidal. The Idol Awards are so close; why would Abby and Romance risk a scandal that would drive their fans away?

When Mira realizes that the men are walking towards a love hotel, she nearly has a heart attack. In her shock, she stumbles, and her boot crushes a soda can she'd meant to step over. The resulting crunch is deafening; it's no surprise when the demons whirl around. Their brown eyes gleam an unnatural gold as they move toward her, drawing as close as they can without stepping inside gok-do range.

"Mm, we keep meeting like this," Romance purrs. "Did you like the view, pretty hunter?"

"She followed us, didn't she?" Abby chuckles, stretching his arms above his head. Mira is not staring at his abs, she's- she's- oh, fuck, she's definitely staring at his abs.

"Shut up," Mira growls, humiliated by the feel of her face turning red.

"We'd be happy to," Romance grins. "Though if you're in the mood to give orders, it seems a shame to waste it on commanding our silence."

"Oh?" Mira pauses, thoughtful, ignoring the warmth pulsing between her legs. "In that case, I order you to jump off a bridge."

This time Abby laughs outright. To her annoyance, it's a nice laugh. "If anyone's getting wet tonight," he says slyly, "shouldn't it be you?"

Mira nearly chokes. "Excuse me?" she demands, giving her gok-do a threatening jab. "Are you insane?"

"They do say that beauty drives men mad," Romance sighs. He looks her up and down, his lips curling into a much too pretty smile. "And you're the loveliest woman I've seen since we came to the human world."

"Flatterer," Mira scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Abby must have a death wish, for he steps closer, within her range. He raises his hands in a gesture of peace, wary of her gok-do. "He's not wrong," Abby says. "The way you move, the way you dance... can you blame us for wanting? You've seen how the fans drool over us. We could have any woman for the asking, and most of them wouldn't try to stab us in our sleep."

Mira can't help but laugh. "I'd be happy to stab you, waking or sleeping."

Romance and Abby trade confusingly lustful glances. "We know," Romance says, drawing closer. "But that can wait until the Idol Awards, can't it? There's other ways for you to torment us, ways far more pleasurable for all involved."

"You must be joking." Why hasn't she stabbed them yet?

"About this?" Romance lifts an eyebrow. "Never. I confess we booked a room intending to use it for just ourselves, but we'd be fools not to try and tempt you to join us."

"Only a fool would be stupid enough to join you," Mira retorts. She's been holding the gok-do up for too long; that must be why her arms are shaking.

"Not a fool," Abby says, his voice low and smooth. He steps past the gok-do and into her space, looking down at her with such heat that she has to fight not to clench her thighs. "A hunter, beautiful and deadly. You could've killed us a dozen times tonight, yet you didn't. Why not let us thank you for your mercy?" He smiles, his fangs glinting. "I promise we'll behave."

The next thing Mira knows, Romance is striding off to check into the love hotel. Abby stays beside her, eyeing her like dessert. "I'll warp us to Romance once he's in the room," he says. "Wouldn't want anyone glimpsing a member of Huntrix here, would we?"

"Or two Saja Boys in the same room," Mira murmurs.

To her surprise, Abby flinches, his jaw tight. "Or that," he agrees.

How Abby knows when to warp is a mystery. All Mira knows is that it's been about ten minutes when he takes her by the arm. Her belly swoops, and the alleyway dissolves in magenta mist.

When the mist clears, they're standing in a fancy hotel room. The carpet beneath her boots is plush and thick, patterned with pink and red hearts. The bed is huge and comfortable, king-sized and covered with fluffy pillows. The rest of the room boasts a couch, a mini fridge, a table with four chairs, two nightstands, and a dresser with an enormous attached mirror. The top of the dresser is covered with artfully arranged bottles of lube and massage oil, interspersed with a wide variety of condoms, blindfolds, and lengths of soft bamboo rope that can only have one intended use.

Mira takes it all in with an air of cool detachment, determined not to show her inexperience. She hasn't been in a love hotel since she was a teenager, angry and reckless enough to risk meeting up with a boy from another chaebol family, one which her parents despised. Their parents could never find out, of course, but the rebellion was still satisfying. More satisfying than the sex, honestly. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, and it showed. After a few awkward meet ups, Mira had ended it.

Since then, like most idols, her only partner has been herself, toys, and a wide collection of extremely inappropriate reading material. But they don't need to know that.

Mira shakes her hair back, all cool confidence. The room is a bit bright for her taste. Thankfully, it doesn't take long to find the dimmer and kill the lights. Not too dark, just a nice, romantic glow. Like candlelight, but less of a fire hazard.

"Alright, boys," Mira says, folding her arms across her chest. "You promised to behave, and I intend to hold you to it. First rule: I'm in charge. What I say goes. If you don't like it, I leave."

"Fair enough," Abby agrees, Romance nodding along.

"Good. Second rule: you don't get to fuck me unless you make me come. And that goes for both of you- if only one of you makes me come, then he's the only one fucking me. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." She wonders if the gleam in Romance's eye should make her nervous. Eh, probably not. Men are always overconfident. Speaking of which...

"Do demons usually have sex?" Mira asks, curious.

"Not in the demon world," Abby shrugs. "Things don't feel the same down there. If it tastes good or smells good, we can't taste it or smell it. The same goes for physical touch. Pain? That we can feel. Pleasure? Nope."

"Being in the human world is like being drunk," Romance says. "Everything is so... heady. Overwhelming, even. But Jinu's been driving us so hard that this is the first moment we've really had to ourselves since we met."

Mira frowns. "So you two haven't fucked each other before?"

Both of them shake their heads.

"I've never fucked anyone," Abby admits with a wry smile. "Gwi-Ma took me before I saved up enough to get married."

"My betrothed died of a wasting illness," Romance says. "A new betrothal was still being arranged when Gwi-Ma took me."

The notion of virgin demons is both bewildering and unexpected. Mira taps her fingernails, thinking. Well, her hopes of being impressed now seem very unlikely. Still, she might as well make the most of it.

"What happens if we can make you come twice?" Abby suddenly asks.

Mira looks at him, considering. "What, twice each?"

By herself, she's only ever managed twice in one evening before getting bored. Three might be possible, she supposes, but anything more than that is the stuff of cheap romance novels and fanfiction written by horny virgins.

"Twice each," Romance purrs. "Four total. If we can manage to please you that well, shouldn't we get a prize?"

"Like what?"

Abby's grin has far too many teeth. "Like letting us take control."

Mira snorts. "There's no way I'm taking orders from you two numbskulls."

"Not taking orders," Romance corrects. "Just... not giving them. Letting us indulge ourselves freely, as a reward for being good boys."

"Fine," Mira says, dismissive.

If they can get her to come four times, they'll have earned it. Not that they'd have the stamina left to do anything at that point. Even if they manage to last twice as long as her prior lover, that's only ten minutes each. Mira can handle that, easy.

But first, she's going to handle the two offensively gorgeous demons begging for her touch.

When Mira orders the boys to pull out a chair and take a seat, they obey without question. She takes her time selecting two bundles of rope from the dresser, pretending to ignore the boys. Romance watches her, smirking; Abby's cheeks are flushed with excitement.

Mira may not be experienced, but she's wandered down plenty of rabbit holes and how-to guides, late at night when she can't sleep. This will be one of those nights, it seems. Despite the late hour, Mira feels wide awake, her heartbeat racing as she contemplates the two men.

When she grasps Abby's wrist, his breath catches in his throat. His skin is searing hot beneath her fingers as she loops the rope, careful not to make the knots too tight. Once she's secured both his wrists and ankles to the chair, she switches to Romance. The instant she touches him, he shudders. His chest rises and falls as he gazes at her, his eyes wide and glazed with want, his lips parted to release a groan that makes Mira's pulse throb between her legs.

Once both demons are secured, Mira steps back to admire her work. Two demons look back at her, each bound to a chair with lengths of pink and red rope. For a moment she wonders which one of them decided to pick a Valentine's themed room. Not that it matters. Abby's ridiculous Hawaiian shirt is already half-unbuttoned, as is Romance's billowy yellow shirt, and she needs to decide which boy she'll be undressing first.

"Now," Mira says, tapping her lip with a stiletto nail. "Where should I start, hmm? Oh, I know. You can beg me for it."

This time Abby is the one who groans, his eyes flashing gold. "Please," he rasps, his voice husky. "You can do whatever you want, just touch me."

Mira licks her lips, her mouth suddenly gone dry. "You'll have to do better than that," she says, feigning disinterest. She glances at Romance. "What about you?"

"I'll be so good for you," Romance swears. His cheeks are as pink as his hair. "You've seen his shirt open already. Don't you want to see what I have to offer?"

Mira steps close, wrapping her fingers in Romance's hair and yanking so that he can't look away from her. His breath hitches, his pupils blown wide.

"Did I win?" he asks, hopeful.

"No," Mira informs him, her smile sharp as a knife. "Do you know why?"

Romance shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on hers. It's Abby who figures it out, his abs flexing as he laughs. "You forgot to say please," he grins, triumphant.

"Please," Romance begs, too late. "Please, please—"

When Mira puts a finger to her lips, Romance goes silent in an instant. He gives a pitiful moan as she lets go of his hair and strides over to the dresser, struck by an idea. She can hear Romance swallow when she picks up the blindfolds. He trembles as she ties it over his eyes, and Abby outright whimpers when it's his turn.

"You won," Mira breathes in his ear. "Good boy."

The noise Abby makes is so filthy she can't even describe it. Was that from her words, or from her closeness? There's only one way to find out. Unfortunately —or fortunately?— for Abby, Mira is an expert at reading people.

Mira ghosts her lips over his ear, listening as Abby's breath falters, watching as the bulge in his pants twitches. When she drags her tongue over the shell of his ear, he makes the noise again; when she gives his earlobe an experimental bite, he flinches so hard that he almost headbutts her.

"Sorry!" Abby gasps, immediately repentant. "Sorry, sorry, that just felt so good—"

Mira cuts him off. "Stay still," she orders, stern and unyielding. "Or I'll end your turn early."

"I'll be still, I'll be still," Abby promises, giving a frantic shake of his head.

To his credit, Abby keeps his word. He doesn't twitch a muscle as she trails her lips down his neck, nor when she makes quick work of his remaining buttons. Mira drags her nails over his chest, marveling at the swell of muscle. His abs are solid as rock but warm and smooth to the touch. She's wanted to lick those abs since she first saw them, and so she does, tracing her tongue over the ridges as Abby's breaths grow faster and shorter.

Once Abby is a molten puddle, she turns her attention to Romance. He's been waiting quietly, still smirking despite his loss. That smirk annoys her. Without warning, Mira rips his shirt open, sending the heart-shaped buttons flying.

"Ooh, feisty," Romance laughs. His eyes are hidden by the blindfold, but she'd bet anything that they're smug. "Is that all you've got?"

"Bold words for a man tied to a chair," Mira snaps. Is this a joke to him? He's totally at her mercy; if she wanted, she could gut him and send him back to Gwi-Ma.

But there's better ways to make Romance pay for his insolence. Forget teasing him; she's going to make him regret opening his pretty mouth.

The first time she twists his nipple with her nails, Romance barely shudders. "Oh, did I make the hunter angry?" he asks, licking his lips.

Mira knows he's baiting her, but her anger rises anyway. She twists harder, this time drawing a broken laugh.

"Ooh, I think I did." To her fury, Romance sounds as cocky as ever. "You'll have to try har—"

Forgetting herself, Mira lashes out. Her nails rake down his chest like knives, his words cut off as Romance gives a strangled gasp. That should please her, and it would, if not for the three red lines that slash across his chest. Mira stares, breathing heavily. Since when do demons bleed? Since when does she want to make them bleed, want to see the blood under her nails and then lick it off? What's wrong with her?

"I take it back," Romance mumbles. His head lolls; he sounds dizzy with need. "Please, don't stop. I'll be good. Please, don't stop."

She should stop. Instead, Mira presses her thumb to one of the scratches, watching with fascination as droplets of blood swell, bright red against the demon's flawless skin. Before she can think better of it, her tongue darts out, tasting the sweet tang of copper. Romance doesn't seem to mind. His cock is straining at his jeans, begging to be released.

Mira ignores it. If Romance likes it rough, who is she to deny him? She's being considerate, that's all. Biting and sucking at his collarbone is for his benefit, not hers. He's the one groaning and whining as she brands him with hickeys, careful to restrain herself to the skin that will be covered by his shirt. So what if her panties get more soaked with every taste of his salty skin as it yields beneath her teeth? That's a coincidence, nothing more.

Her panties aren't the only thing that's sticky. Mira's been running around all day, and gnawing on a Saja Boy has only made her sweatier. The leather chafes against her skin, itching and rubbing until she can't stand it anymore.

The sound of the zipper makes both boys perk up. "What are you doing?" Abby asks, curious. He turns his head toward the noise, as if he'll be able to see through his blindfold.

"I," Mira huffs, peeling off the leather, "am going to take a shower."

"What about us?" To her delight, Romance sounds taken aback.

"You can sit there and wait," Mira shrugs. "I'll untie you once I'm done, and then it'll be your turn. A little sweat is one thing, but I'm not going anywhere near swamp dick. And you'll need to prep yourselves, at least if you plan on doing any anal."

"Will you prep yourself too?" Somehow Abby makes the question seem matter-of-fact, almost innocent.

"Sure," Mira laughs. "Why not? Though I doubt you'll earn it." Really, the odds of them earning it are about zero, but she might as well taunt them with the possibility.

She's nearly done undressing when Romance unexpectedly pipes up. "Can I have a kiss before you shower?"

Something inside Mira flinches. "No kissing," she says, flat and emotionless. "Enjoy your wait, boys."

And with that, she leaves them.

The bathroom is surprisingly opulent for a love hotel. Mira takes advantage of the provided hairbrush and shower cap to put her hair up out of the way; otherwise it'll take forever to dry. She scrubs herself pink beneath a blast of scalding hot water, determinedly not thinking about what she's just done, or what she's about to do.

But it's hard to ignore the pool of slick between her legs. There's no denying that this is the wettest Mira has ever been. To her dismay, even prepping herself for the possibility of anal, something she's never done and regards with wary interest, only makes her wetter. Her cunt is tingling as she pulls on a fluffy bathrobe, tying it securely lest the boys glimpse anything before she's ready.

When Mira removes his blindfold, Abby looks at her as if he's a man dying of thirst and she's an oasis in the desert.

"You're so hot," he groans as she unties his ankles, his voice ragged. Is he drooling? He must be; the first thing Abby does when she unties his wrists is wipe a hand across his mouth.

"Shower," Mira orders, pointing.

Wisely, Abby keeps his hands to himself, though he looks back at her longingly as he heads toward the bathroom. Romance watches him go, his eyes glowing gold. When he asks if he can shower with Abby, his voice pitiful with yearning, Mira decides to allow it.

The boys returns from their shower with white bathrobes and lips swollen red from kissing. Mira regards them coolly. They mustn't suspect how worked up she is, worked up enough that she spent the last twenty minutes pacing a hole in the carpet, her cunt dripping slick onto her thighs.

"Right," Mira says, as confident as if this is just dance practice. Determined to be casual, she shrugs off her bathrobe, resisting the urge to shiver as the cool air of the room prickles at her skin, her nipples hardening so fast it almost hurts. To her gratified amusement, the boys both gulp, staring lustfully at her nakedness. "Romance, lie on the bed. Abby, you can sit next to him while you wait for your turn. You can touch each other, but not me."

"Aw," Romance sighs, shedding his bathrobe as he hastens to obey.

"Turn to do what?" Abby asks, curious.

Rather than tell them, Mira shows them. When she swings a long leg over Romance's toned stomach, he grins as if he's won a billion won. His grin falters slightly as she scoots up, kneeling with her thighs around his head.

"Oh," Romance says, blushing. He stares at her cunt, seemingly unaware of how hungrily Abby is looking at him as his hand strokes up and down Romance's ribs.

"Don't you remember the deal?" Mira tilts her head, unimpressed. "If you want to fuck me, you have to get me off."

"As my lady commands," Romance says gallantly.

The bravado of his words doesn't match his actions. After Romance adjusts so that Mira's cunt is over his mouth, he gives her a single tentative lick, then glances up for her approval. When Mira rolls her eyes, he looks back down, staring intently. Her bush is neatly trimmed, her cunt pink and puffy with arousal.

Hesitantly, Romance begins to explore. He traces his tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top, then does it again, this time focusing first on one lip, then the other. It feels pleasant, she supposes, but not pleasant enough to make her moan. Mira has no interest in feeding a demon's ego. If he wants to hear her moan, he'll have to earn it.

Romance seems to have realized that, judging by how he sets to work. He experiments, varying how hard he licks, how fast he licks, where he licks. He quickly discovers that sticking his tongue inside her cunt does nothing, but drawing circles around Mira's clit makes her shudder. Soon he's figured out that she likes it best when he licks her slit with long, hard strokes, likes it when he lets her sit so that she's almost smothering him.

When Romance comes up for air, his mouth and chin are drenched. A quick gasp and a lick of his lips, then he's diving back in. Now and then he falters, distracted by Abby. Unable to touch Mira, Abby seems to have decided to touch every inch of Romance. He kisses his knuckles, licks a stripe up his shoulder, presses one strong hand on his thigh as if pinning him in place.

When Abby puts a mouth on his nipple, already sensitive from Mira's attention, Romance hisses. Perhaps that's what inspires him to suddenly suck on her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth as he sucks. Mira is coming before she knows what's happened, her legs shaking uncontrollably as she whimpers and writhes until the wave of pleasure finally ebbs.

"That was fun," Romance gasps, emerging from her cunt with a smirk that makes her want to slap him. Smug bastard. Mira's juices are smeared all over his face; she barely manages to get out of the way as Abby swoops down to kiss him. Their lips smack as they greedily devour each other, the kiss wet with tongue and slick.

When Abby breaks the kiss, the gaze he turns on Mira is scorching. "My turn?" he rasps, licking his lips. His eyes are fully gold, his tongue just a little longer and darker than it should be. That ought to scare Mira, not send a thrill up her spine as she gestures for Romance to move aside so she can lie down.

"Are we still not allowed to touch you?" Romance asks as Abby settles himself between her legs. "Please, we can make you feel so good."

"Just tongue for now," Mira orders. "Abby's tongue, not yours," she adds, closing the loophole before Romance can saunter through it.

"As you wish," Romance shrugs. There's a look of mischief in his eyes, one that she mistrusts.

Then Abby's burying his face in her cunt, his nose nudging at her clit as his tongue strokes her slit. Startled, Mira gasps. Distracted by the demon enthusiastically devouring her cunt, she forgets the other demon until he makes himself impossible to ignore.

"She tastes so good, doesn't she?" Romance purrs, lazily tracing a finger over one of Abby's biceps. He glances up at Mira. "Look at what you've done to us. So desperate, so eager to please you. Abby, try drawing a circle around her clit."

Mira can't help but moan as Abby obeys.

"Oh, now there's a pretty sound," Romance sighs. His eyes hold hers, their golden depths so hot that Mira can't look away. "So beautiful, so cruel. Do you know how we've dreamed of this? Of seeing your eyes shine with desire; of hearing that lovely voice sing your pleasure?" His voice drops, low and smooth. "Think what we could do if you let us loose. We'll be good boys, we promise. We'd worship you with our lips, our tongues, our fingers. Kissing and biting and petting you until you're dizzy with need— now, Abby, suck her clit."

This time Abby ignores him, coming up for air with a gasp. "Can I finger you?" he begs, his mouth soaked. "Please."

The instant Mira nods, Abby dives back in. His pace is slower than Romance's, steady and unstoppable. Mira's cunt is already clenching on nothing when Abby eases a finger inside her. A finger isn't enough, not by far. But it feels so good as he slides his finger in and out, as he crooks it inside her and searches for the spots that make her jerk and whimper.

Mira's second orgasm comes slowly, building like a wave. It swells as Abby licks circles around her clit, adding a second finger, then a third. While he fills her cunt with fingers, Romance fills her ear with filth, telling her all the things he'd like to do to her and to Abby and all the things he'd like them to do to him. The list is worryingly long, but Mira doesn't care. Her pleasure is rising so high that it drowns her, and Abby is drinking every drop.

"Enough," Mira finally declares. Her legs are still twitching; she can barely keep her voice from shaking. "Well done, both of you." She says it grudgingly, but you'd never know from the way the two demons light up.

"One each," Abby grins, absurdly proud. "So both of us get to fuck you."

Mira's cunt clenches, eager for more. "That was the deal, yes," she says dryly. "Were you thinking of taking turns? Or both at once?"

Abby and Romance blink, surprised, then glance at each other. "Both at once?" Abby asks hesitantly. "One of us in your mouth, the other in your- er-" How could a demon be bashful?

Romance rolls his eyes. "I think Abby meant to say that he'd like to take your pretty mouth, leaving me with your lovely cunt. If it please my lady?"

Mira gapes at him for a moment, thinking of fedoras. "Yeah, okay," her traitor mouth says without her permission.

Somehow, they all end up kneeling on the bed. Mira is in the middle, on her hands and knees, with Abby in front of her and Romance behind her. "If you even think of high fiving, I will gut you," she promises.

"Noted," Romance says, sounding both confused and aroused.

Given how intently she'd been focused on enjoying being eaten out, Mira hadn't really paid much attention to the cocks in her peripheral vision. Now one is in her face, the first one she's seen up close in years.

Abby's cock is... slightly daunting, truth be told. It's as long and thick as the ones she's seen in porn, albeit uncircumcised and much less shiny. Mira supposes that makes sense; they must use buckets of lube when filming porn.

"Uh, Mira?" Romance asks from behind her. One hand hovers above her hip, close enough for her to feel but stopping short of actually grabbing her. "May I?"

How does a demon have more manners than the human boy she slept with?

"You can hold onto my hips," Mira allows, feeling benevolent. "Take your time, none of that jamming-it-in-in-one-thrust nonsense."

As Romance's hands carefully grasp her hips, Mira returns her attention to the demon before her. Abby's eyes are fixed on her, one hand lightly grasping the base of his cock. His cock is as hard as his abs, the shaft a soft brown, the tip almost as bright pink as his hair. The thought would make Mira snort, if she weren't already busy taking a sharp breath as the tip of Romance's cock glides against her slit.

Focus, Mira reminds herself.

Unlike some people, Mira can't eat a whole gimbap in one bite. Still, deepthroating isn't everything, and giving head can't be that difficult. Besides, no matter what she does, it'll be the best (and only) blowjob Abby's ever had.

As Romance gently nudges at her entrance, Mira sticks out her tongue, seized by a terrible, wonderful idea. Who cares if she has no idea what she's doing? She's going to make this man miserable. To that end, Mira glances up at Abby, giving him the most sultry, seductive look she can manage. She's rewarded by the sight of his adam's apple bobbing as he gulps, his cock twitching. Abby swallows again, looking almost painfully turned on as Mira gives him a smile with far too many teeth—

And then Mira is gasping as Romance slips inside her. Not all the way, but enough to stretch her walls, enough to remind her that fingers aren't the same as a cock. Her cunt clenches, making Romance hiss. He's struggling to stay still, his hands gripping her hips tight as he resists the urge to slam all the way in.

"Good boy," Mira purrs.

"I've been good too," Abby protests. From some men, that would sound like whining. From Abby, it sounds like victory.

Mira flutters her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. "Did you want something?" she asks sweetly.

"Please," Abby begs. "Mira, plea—"

One swipe of Mira's tongue, and Abby nearly swallows his. It's so satisfying that she wants to cackle like a witch. Even more satisfying is the feel of Romance's cock as it slides a few inches deeper, her walls pulsing around him. It's enough to make Mira lament how brief this will probably be. With how tense Romance is already, she doubts he'll last more than a few strokes.

In the meantime, she has Abby to torment. Teasing him produces a variety of amusing gasps, groans, and growls. She darts her tongue out and licks from his balls to his tip; she laps at the tip like it's a lollipop; she sucks the head into her mouth and hums around it before releasing it with a quiet pop.

"You can go all the way," Mira calls over her shoulder. Romance has been patient long enough; he deserves a reward.

"Thank you," Romance hisses through gritted teeth. When he bottoms out, Mira hisses too, unused to being so full.

Then, suddenly, a realization hits her.

She didn't ask Romance to put on a condom. And judging by the way his cock drags against her walls, it didn't occur to him either.

Mira's gut twists as shame and arousal war within her. If Celine ever found out she slept with a pair of demons, she'd lose her mind. And fucking a demon raw? Oh, that's a whole new level of taboo.

But the thought of letting a demon come in her is so enticing. Her toes curl; her cunt clenches, making Romance gasp.

Why not? Mira thinks as his cock slowly slides out of her, then back in. She's only ever heard of demons reproducing with each other, possibly by spawning. She's pretty sure it's impossible for them to reproduce with humans. Even if it wasn't, she's got her IUD, she knows she's clean, and she'd bet her entire savings account that virgin demons are as STD-free as virgin humans.

A low whine draws Mira's attention back to the present. Abby stares down at her, his eyes pleading, his cock hard. Oops. She didn't intend to torment him for quite so long. Oh, well, he'll survive. Then again...

Abby looks delightfully apprehensive as Mira smirks up at him, her tongue slowly wetting her lips. "Mira?" he asks, his voice cracking on her name. "What are you—"

His cock might be sliding into her mouth, but Abby is the one who chokes. Mira's never felt so powerful in her life, save for when she dances or when she wields her gok-do. Turning a demon into putty in her hands isn't quite as exhilarating, but it's pretty damn good.

Abby completely unravels as Mira bobs on his cock, falling into a pace that matches the stroke of Romance's cock inside her cunt. Now and then she lets Abby's cock slip out of her mouth, pretending she has to pause to give Romance orders. A little to the left, a little harder, there, right there, that angle is the best.

Although Romance follows her orders beautifully, her true aim is edging Abby. The instant he pulses too hard or groans too loud is the instant she pulls away, reveling in the growing wildness and frustration in his eyes.

When Abby suddenly raises his hands, Mira thinks he's about to bury them in her hair. But to her surprise, he reaches for Romance. She doesn't realize how much she's been enjoying the way Romance grasps her hips until he takes his hands away, stretching above her back so that his fingers interlace with Abby's.

Without her hips to ground him, Romance's thrusts become erratic. Every stroke hits a slightly different spot inside her, some of them so sweet that Mira can't help crying out around Abby's cock. When Romance accidentally finds her favorite spot, the one that only one of her toys can reach, she actually yelps.

"Do that again," Abby urges.

Not that he needs to. Romance is already trying to hit the spot again, his pretty voice murmuring words that would make a porn star blush. It takes him a little while to get his bearings, but once Mira gives another yelp, she's done for.

Romance is relentless. He rolls his hips with a dancer's easy rhythm, hitting her sweet spot over and over as his balls slap against her ass. Mira's cunt is so soaked that she can hear every thrust, feel the excess slick dripping obscenely down her thighs. Her mouth is just as loud, her lips wet with drool from sucking Abby.

When Romance slips a hand between her legs to rub her clit, Mira's doomed. Her third orgasm comes without warning. Her cunt throbs around Romance's shaft, white stars flashing across her vision as she moans in between lazy licks of Abby's cock.

"Three," Romance says with a ragged groan.

Abby's breaths are ragged too, his abs glistening with sweat. "Can we switch?" Abby begs. "Please? I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."

"What's left of it," Romance drawls, still catching his breath.

"You can swap," Mira says slowly. Her cunt twitches, distracting her as she collects her scattered thoughts. "But you'll have to ask nicely. On your knees, both of you."

In the blink of an eye, both men are on the floor. Mira looks down at them, almost overwhelmed by how pretty they are. Abby's eyebrows are bold and expressive, his jawline should be illegal, and his muscles only add to his appeal. Romance is more slender, toned and lean, with high cheekbones and lips made for kissing. His hair ought to make him look absurd; what idiot decided to make a heart using bangs and a mullet? But it works, perfectly framing the sharp angles of his face.

When Mira steps down from the bed, she swears the boys gulp in unison. She stands between them, her legs shoulder-width apart, her cunt right before their eyes.

"As I said," Mira croons. "Ask me nicely."

She's never seen a man move so fast on his knees before. Their heads nearly smack together; Abby only dodges a concussion by burying his face in her cunt. He kisses her clit like his life depends on it, easing his lips over the slick skin before giving a gentle suck.

"Enough," Mira says sharply.

Abby pulls back, his mouth gleaming with her juices as he stares at her in a daze. Not one to wait, Romance takes his chance. He kisses her clit as if he's kissing her mouth, all flickering tongue and soft whimpers. He whimpers even louder when Mira grabs him by the hair and yanks him away, pointing to the bed with the air of a woman who is always obeyed.

"Not you," Mira says when Abby tries to follow Romance's example and scramble onto the bed. She doesn't want Abby up there, not when she's got a new position in mind.

This time Mira lies on her back. Her legs dangle over the side of the bed as Abby stands between her knees, his cock weeping precome. Once she's ready, Mira wraps her legs around his waist and tugs him toward her, bringing him closer until the blunt tip of his cock brushes against her swollen clit.

"Good boy," Mira says, her breath hitching. "Now, what do you say?"

"Please," Abby husks.

Another flex of her legs and the head of his cock is inside her. Mira bites back a whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness. It's a good thing Romance went first. Abby is thick, so thick that the sight of her cunt swallowing his shaft somehow looks wrong, like he should be violently splitting her in two instead of fitting inside her like a hand inside a glove.

While Mira adjusts to Abby's size, Romance has been waiting patiently, kneeling by her head. An idle wave brings him closer, his eyes hopeful. When she tilts her head back and opens her mouth, he seems on the verge of weeping with relief.

Not that Mira intends to give him any.

The thing is, Mira never loses.

When she was younger, losing wasn't an option, not for the daughter of a proud chaebol family. Mira had to come first in every exam, had to dance a solo at every recital. Much as she hated the expectations, the pressure, she hated losing more. Competition turns her into a shark that's scented blood in the water, and her competitors are the chum. She's the same way about gambling. If Mira places a bet, it's because she knows that she'll win.

Tonight, however, is the exception. And now two naked demons are staring at Mira, hunger blazing in their eyes. Her mouth goes dry as goosebumps prickle her skin; suddenly, she is very aware of the pulse between her legs. Her cunt doesn't seem to think she's lost. It clenches around nothing, weeping slick, begging for more.

Romance moves first. He crawls up to where Mira sits leaning against the headboard, his hands shaking with excitement as he hesitantly reaches toward her hair. When Mira does nothing to stop him, he keeps reaching. His long fingers are careful as he takes down her twintails, setting the hair ties aside on the nightstand.

"Pretty."

Romance's voice is low and soft, as soft as the way he cards his fingers through her hair. The bed creaks as Abby gets up; when he returns from the bathroom, there's a hairbrush in his hands.

Something catches in Mira's throat. While Abby and Romance get settled on the bed, she turns to face the headboard. She's relieved to have an excuse to turn her back; she doesn't want to look at them.

Mira doesn't know which one of them has the brush. All she knows is that whoever it is starts at the ends of her hair. One hand gently grips a lock of hair; the other slowly works the brush through the tangles. There's no yanking, no tugging, no pain. Just the steady movement of the brush as it goes higher and higher. When the brush reaches her scalp, the process starts over again, this time with a new lock of hair.

Then Abby breaks the silence. "Does that feel good?" he asks, unsure.

It does. But Mira doesn't trust herself to speak, not when her eyes burn with unshed tears.

No one has ever brushed her hair like this. The task was beneath Mira's mother, a waste of her valuable time. Mira's nanny brushed her hair, always briskly efficient and unconcerned with childish protests or yelps of pain. As soon as she could, Mira began brushing her own hair, desperate to save her poor scalp. Only professional stylists have touched her hair since. Thankfully, the stylists hired to work with idols are more than capable of tending to her hair without hurting her.

But the men- the demons aren't brushing her hair like that. They're brushing her hair like it matters, like she matters, like she deserves all the tenderness that they can give. When the brushing pauses, it hits Mira like a punch to the gut; she's so distraught that she almost cries.

"It feels good," she chokes out, covering the break in her voice with a cough.

"Good," Abby breathes, relieved.

After two kisses to the top of her head, the brushing resumes. This time, the boys start talking to each other. They sound... excited? Giddy? Whatever the right word is, it's not a word she associates with demons. Mira tries to focus on that, not on the tenderness that's threatening to ruin her.

"So silky," Romance murmurs.

"Silkier than yours," Abby teases.

Romance laughs. "I can settle for second place. Mm, Mira, can I massage your scalp?"

There's no way she can reply, not without giving herself away. Mira shrugs instead, a queen bestowing a gift upon one of her grateful subjects. A moment later, fingertips are buried in her roots. As Romance rubs her scalp in gentle circles, the tension in her shoulders slowly begins to ebb. When he lightly scritches with his nails, she actually moans.

"Can we give you a massage?" Romance asks. His eagerness is more akin to an unruly puppy than a man. "I saw massage oils on the dresser."

A lazy wave of Mira's hand grants permission without a word. The next thing she knows she's lying face down on the bed, her hair swept over one shoulder to expose her back. Abby and Romance kneel on either side of her; bottles of massage oil bump against her legs. The boys pick them up one by one, comparing and discussing.

"How are there so many kinds?" Abby huffs.

A lid cracks open. "Ugh," Romance grimaces at the scent. "Whatever eucalyptus is, I don't like it. And what does vegan mean?"

"No animal products," Mira says into the pillow. "Don't care if it's vegan or not."

"Cream-type deep hydration," Abby reads. Another lid cracks open; he sniffs. "Not much scent on this one. Feels nice, though."

"Maybe. What about- what even is this- nerouli and patchouli?" Romance asks, quizzical.

"Don't open that!" Mira does NOT want to smell like the weird American hippie shop that Zoey once dragged them into. "The cream is fine, I don't like strong scents."

A lid cracks; two pairs of hands rub together, the slick sound of oil faintly audible in the quiet.

"Hmm." Abby muses. "I'll start at her shoulders, you start at her feet?"

Romance must've nodded. His slender fingers grasp her foot, his thumbs kneading her big toe. The firm circles feel wonderful. With so much hunting and choreography practice for the Idol Awards, she's been ignoring the growing ache in her feet for days.

The fingers on her shoulders are broader, stronger. Abby starts with thumbs too. He kneads the knot at the back of her neck until it melts away, then turns his attention to her shoulders. When Mira starts groaning into the pillow, she's not sure if it's thanks to Abby pressing his knuckles into her shoulderblades or Romance pressing his fist into the arch of her foot. All she knows is that this feels amazing and she never wants it to stop.

By the time the boys meet in the middle at her lower back, Mira is an incoherent puddle. She's only vaguely aware of being gently rolled over; the instant the massage resumes, her mind goes completely blank.

Then Abby tentatively rests a hand on her breast. "I swear they looked smaller in the leather," he mutters to himself.

And with that, Mira's sense of zen is gone.

Your breasts really aren't as elegant as we'd expected, the fashion designer says, disappointed. We'll have to adjust the bust; you can't wear a sports bra with this gown. Tsk, I'm surprised the label hasn't sent you to the surgeon. What are you, 70C? 70D? Such a shame. Just a little reduction and they'd be perfect.

The sensation of a fingertip trailing over the curve of her breast pulls her from the memory.

"Aish," Abby rasps. "Your breasts are perfect."

"Beautiful," Romance agrees, staring at them longingly. "Can we—"

"What is wrong with you two?" The words burst from Mira's throat, as jagged and sharp as the pain in her chest as she sits up. "Why are you doing this? What, did Gwi-Ma promise you a bonus if you made a fool out of a hunter?" She won't cry, she won't.

Mira expects smooth lies to lull her back under their spell. Instead the demons stare at her, offended. Patterns flare violently over their skin; their hands are half blue and tipped with claws.

"Fuck Gwi-Ma," Romance snarls. "Do you know what it's like to go years and years and years without a single touch that feels good? To endure living with nothing, and the only alternative is pain?"

"And then you come up here." Abby's voice is dangerously soft. "Back in the human world for the first time in countless years, so many that you've forgotten what pleasure felt like. But now you can feel pleasure, you can even give pleasure. Not that Gwi-Ma would ever allow it."

"But one evening," Romance says, "you feel your leash go slack. Gwi-Ma is distracted; on this unexpected, impossible night, you belong only to yourself."

Abby bares his fangs in a monstrous, beautiful smile. "So tell us, Mira," he asks. "If you had the chance to spend that precious night with the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, would you waste it?"

Mira looks back and forth between them, searching for signs of falsehood that aren't there. She should never have come here, but it's too late for that. Rumi is lying to her and Zoey is cracking at the seams and the world could end in two days and all she wants right now is to forget.

A terrible, terrible idea seizes hold of her. Mira lets it, giving up at last.

"Kiss me."

The demons stare at her, frozen and unblinking. Mira waits for them to rouse, bracing herself for what's to come. She expects to be attacked, devoured, consumed with the same violent passion with which Abby and Romance kissed each other.

But that's not what happens.

Abby's claw tilts her chin up with a delicacy that aches. He moves with the same delicacy as he strokes from her chin to her jaw, holding her face in his hand. Mira's heartbeat pounds in her ears as he leans to rest his brow against hers, his thumb tracing gently over her lips.

"Easy," Abby husks. His breath smells like yulmu-cha, warm and nutty and familiar.

The first kiss is lighter than a butterfly's wing. Abby's lips ghost over hers, his mouth closed, one hand cupping the back of her neck. Startled, Mira kisses back just as soft. Neither is willing to let the kiss end. It lingers like the heat of summer, enduring heedless of the autumn wind and rain.

When Abby breaks the kiss, the world pauses as they catch their breath. Then his lips are on hers, again and again and again. With each kiss he presses just a little firmer, stays just a little longer. Needing more, Mira opens her lips to deepen the kiss. Abby's tongue caresses hers, slow and sensual; when she slips her tongue in his mouth, their groans echo as one.

To her embarrassment, Mira whimpers when Abby pulls away. As if that weren't bad enough, her breathing hitches as Abby kisses her brow, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. With each kiss he leans further forward, easing her onto her back.

When Abby pulls away again, Romance is more than ready to take his turn. While Abby trails his lips down her throat, Romance bends over Mira to draw her into a molten kiss. His left hand rests on the bed beside her shoulder, holding himself up; his right hand tangles in her hair. He twirls a tendril around his finger as he coaxes her through deep, languid kisses, grazing her with sharp fangs that never cut.

Bliss cascades over Mira, making her quiver as whimpers spill out of her. While Romance claims her mouth, Abby claims everywhere else. He nips at her throat, kisses her shoulders, licks over the line of her collarbone.

Then he moves lower. Abby clasps one breast in his hand, trapping her nipple between his fingers in a pinch that makes her belly flutter. He worships the other breast with his mouth, dragging his tongue in a winding spiral that ends at her nipple. Abby moans as he sucks on it, biting down just hard enough to make her blood simmer, to make her give a cry of pleasure-pain that's swallowed by Romance's lips.

It's too much and not enough. Mira writhes against the bed as she rubs her thighs together, frantic for relief that isn't coming. Romance won't stop kissing her; Abby is lavishing her breasts with attention, sucking and biting at her sensitive nipples. His strong hands could be giving her what she needs, but instead they're holding her firmly by the waist—

Suddenly, Abby lets go. Mira rolls her hips, desperate for him to take the hint as her nipple slips from his mouth. Fingers, tongue, something, anything, so long as it touches her cunt—

Then Abby picks her up and sets Mira on his lap, her legs spread wide around his waist. He's already kissing her before she realizes that her kiss with Romance has ended. He kneels behind her, his lips pressing fiery kisses to the nape of her neck. When Romance moves to kiss down her spine, Mira can't help but arch her back. Her hands clutch at Abby's abs; her soaked cunt glides obscenely against his hard cock, pleading for it to fill her.

Mira's on the verge of humiliating herself by begging when Abby renders it unnecessary. Without breaking the kiss, his claws grasp under her and lift. His arms are as solid as his abs, strong and steady. For a moment he holds her above his shaft, a thrill shivering up her spine as he teases her clit with the head of his cock. Her entire weight rests on her thighs, on inhuman claws that ought to be carving her to ribbons. Mira feels like she's sitting on a razor's edge, lightheaded and dizzy, barely able to keep her balance.

When Abby helps her sink down onto his cock, she falls.

Mira didn't realize how painfully empty she felt until Abby's cock slides into her up to the hilt. Her cunt sucks him in greedily, her tender walls welcoming the stretch. She's terribly, blasphemously wet, wetter than she's ever been. Abby's not even thrusting; his hips are still as he kisses her, happy to let her sit on his cock like a queen upon her throne.

She wants to move, she does, but how can she? Abby isn't the only demon intent on proving his devotion. While he fills Mira with his cock and kisses her senseless with his mouth, Romance worships her with his hands. She'd never known petting could be so overwhelming. He caresses her back, her hips, her ass; he clasps one of her hands and brings it to his mouth so his lips can brush her knuckles.

Overwhelmed, Mira closes her eyes and lets the storm sweep her away. Her nerves are ablaze; every touch is a lightning strike, and her heartbeat is the thunder. She wonders if Romance feels her blood race as he kisses her wrist, wonders if Abby feels her pulse throb in her cunt as she shifts her hips and grinds on his cock. He groans as he slips his tongue between her lips, plunging so deep she feels it in her throat, so long and thick that it can't possibly be human. Her walls clench as she struggles to breathe through her nose, torn between her need for Abby and her need for air.

Air wins. Mira pulls away, gasping. Her eyes flutter open, her vision blurred by white stars that dance over pale indigo skin.

However their human glamor works, Abby and Romance have utterly lost the ability to control it. Jagged patterns swirl over their faces, their chests, their arms. Their hands are claws, their lips are blue, their slitted eyes smolder like golden fire.

Such a sight should terrify any human, let alone a hunter. A hunter knows what they are; a hunter should be disgusted, repulsed, repelled. She should summon her gok-do, should put an end to them both. But she can't, not when her hips are rolling and her cunt is clenching, her skin burning with every brush of Romance's lips, one hand grasping his cock, the other grabbing Abby's ass. Mira's fucking two demons and she likes it, she loves it, and what does that say about her?

"Why is this so good?"

Mira's voice is half a moan, half a sob. Talking is hard when Abby's nibbling at her neck and Romance is licking her swollen cunt. He drags his tongue around the cock inside her before sucking her clit, sending sparks flaming up her spine.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Abby breathes against her throat. "We've had hundred of years to daydream about all we missed."

Romance hums agreement, his lips still suckling at her clit. Mira shivers as Abby's tongue glides up her throat and over the shell of her ear, a fang lightly pressing against the lobe. The pleasure makes her roll her hips, her walls sliding and stretching around his cock.

"Aish, you're perfect," Abby groans, smooth as sin. "Better than anything I imagined."

"So much better," Romance gasps as he pulls away from her cunt, his lips shining with her slick. Mira doesn't even have a chance to scowl at the loss of his mouth before he replaces it with his thumb, petting her clit with something akin to reverence.

"Do you know what demons, idols, and hunters have in common?" Romance asks.

"I —"

Mira's trying to think, but how can she? Abby's stopped licking her ear, deciding he'd rather pay homage to her breasts. He cups them in his claws, lifting one, then the other, alternating between laving her nipples with his tongue and tugging them between his teeth.

Romance looks at her innocently. "Hmm?" he says, still idly stroking her clit.

A demon shouldn't be able to sound that guileless.

Mira makes another attempt to gather her thoughts, but she barely remembers the question. "I — oh!"

Rather than play fair and let her have a moment to think, Romance adds another distraction. His teeth sink into the curve between her neck and collarbone, biting without breaking her skin. For a moment he remains motionless, fangs pressing against tender flesh; when he moves again, it's to soothe the bite mark with his tongue.

"Demons, idols, and hunters," Romance repeats, kissing her jaw between every word, "are supposed to serve. We're not supposed to want, to desire. But we do, don't we?"

"Let us show you," Abby rasps into her breast, low and deep.

Mira's laugh is a broken ruin. "I thought you already were."

"Oh, Mira," Romance sighs, pressing his thumb to her lips. Her tongue darts out to taste her own slick; she almost misses what he says next. "Do you really think that this is all the pleasure we can give?"

Truthfully, she had. Mira has no idea what else the two demons can do to her, but she very much wants to find out. If they want to give her more pleasure, then she'll gorge on it.

"Go on, then," Mira challenges. "Go on, try to impress—"

Romance's lips crash over hers. He kisses with the passion of centuries, and Mira responds with the furious zeal of a woman who's wanted to be wanted since the day she was born.

There's no doubting Romance's want, nor Abby's. His cock is thick and heavy within her, his claws deliciously tight around Mira's waist as he holds her on his lap. When he bucks his hips, Mira yelps into Romance's mouth, shocked by the euphoria of being so completely, impossibly full.

And as Mira feels another crescendo start to build, she wonders how many times they'll make her come before the night is done.

Yet again, the demons surprise her.

Mira expects them to give her more pleasure by ripping orgasms out of her as she screams. A small, shameful part of her is excited by the idea, ready to prove how much she can take, how much she can endure without breaking.

She's not ready for Abby's steady thrusts, for the way his cock incessantly strokes her sopping cunt as he holds her in his lap. She's not ready for Romance's soft lips, for the way he nuzzles her neck. Beads of sweat and blood glide over Mira's skin as he presses his chest against her back, his hard cock grinding against her ass, his arms wrapping around her.

When Romance's claws grip his shoulders, Abby groans. "Can't believe we get to do this," he pants, dipping his head to kiss Mira again. She welcomes him, desperate for every scrap of affection.

"So fucking lucky," Romance says fervently, dragging his lips up her throat. "Beautiful, wonderful girl."

"Addictive," Abby rasps, thrusting hard and deep, his mouth capturing Mira's cry of ecstasy.

"Maddening," Romance sighs. He palms her breasts, his claws rolling her nipples. "Mira's beauty alone would make the poets weep, but both of you?"

Mira feels Romance shake his head, his silky hair brushing against her collarbone.

"No poet could do justice to the sight of such lovers," he whispers against Mira's skin. He tweaks her nipples, laughing softly when she gasps. "Entwined together, so lithe and lovely, all curves and muscles and—"

And then Romance's claws trail across her ribs and Mira thrashes so hard she almost breaks his nose.

To her horror, Abby instantly realizes what's happened. "You're ticklish?" he asks, delighted.

"No!" Mira lies.

Frantic to distract him, Mira spears herself on Abby's cock, taking him so deep she sees stars. Abby makes a beautiful, guttural noise; he seizes her face in his claws, his tongue plunging into her throat. Mira kisses back, her hands grasping behind her as she tries to find Romance's cock—

Romance's claws find her sides first. "You are ticklish," he exults as Mira thrashes again, laughing helplessly into Abby's mouth. "Stop kissing her for a moment, you brute, I want to hear her laugh."

"Don't you dare!" Mira yelps as Abby pulls away, grinning. "Or so help me—"

"So help you what?" Romance purrs, his claws brushing against her armpits. "Go on, no need to hold ba-HAHAHAHAHA!"

There are many, many benefits to being flexible. Being able to ride Abby and tickle Romance at the same time is apparently one of them. He wants a tickle fight? She'll give him a fucking tickle fight. Romance tries his best to protect his belly and underarms, but it's clear that only one of them has actual grappling training. Hysterical laughter bounces off the walls as Romance shakes and flails and dodges, until—

WHUMP!

"Was that really necessary?" Abby huffs, still fucking her.

Mira shrugs, smirking, her walls clenching around him. "If he didn't want to fall off the bed then he shouldn't have started it."

"Ow," Romance grumbles from the floor.

"Oh?" Abby grins as he pulls out of her, his smile ominously wide.

Demons, it seems, are gluttons for punishment.

Abby's better at grappling than Romance was, she'll give him that. He actually manages to pin her and keep her down for a few seconds, a victory Mira blames on her being 1) drunk on sex and 2) distracted by Abby's ridiculously, adorably boyish laugh. He gets a few shrieks of laughter out of Mira before she turns the tables, slipping out of his hold and pinning him beneath her.

"I thought you promised to be good," Mira pants, her heart racing, her cunt achingly empty.

"I have been good," Abby... pouts? How is a demon pouting? How is he making puppy dog eyes? "So how come only Romance gets to feel you bite and scratch?"

Mira glances over at Romance, now climbing back on the bed. Oh, wow, she has marked her territory. Romance's pale indigo skin blooms with purple bruises and fresh scabs. A trail of hickeys winds over his collarbones, down his chest, and across his ribs; there's three long scratches on his right pec and five gashes wrapped around each wrist, scoring her fingerprints into his flesh.

Abby, meanwhile, has two bite marks on his hip and nothing else. Mira presses one of them with her thumb, watching how Abby bites his lip, his patterns flaring. When he called her a vicious little thing, he meant it as a compliment; he's only misbehaved when he wants her to play rough.

Mira hooks her thumb in his mouth, considering. "You said you were going to show me desire," she says, grinding lightly on Abby's cock when it twitches against her thigh.

"Yes," Abby husks as Romance licks at the hollow of his throat. "I've never desired anything like I desire this. Mark me, claim me, make me bleed, make me yours. It's okay if you're mean, I like it when you're mean, I'm begging you to be mean."

She's never felt so turned on in her entire life. "If you insist."

Mira's cunt makes a slick, wet sound as she sinks onto Abby's cock, still hard and glistening with her juices. She gives a strangled gasp at the stretch, the feeling of being full. It's not enough, but it eases the ache, gives her something to clench on as she stakes her claim.

"Mine," Mira rasps, and sinks her teeth into his throat.

Responsive doesn't begin to describe Abby. He writhes beneath her as she sucks a bruise onto his skin, his hips bucking, his claws grabbing Romance to yank him into a brutal kiss. When Mira slashes her nails across his abs, Abby's patterns blaze like lightning, his golden eyes gleaming as he watches her lap at his blood.

Mira's never felt so wild, so free, so herself. With every bite or scratch her belly swoops and her walls squeeze; she's high on the feeling of hot flesh yielding beneath her teeth, high on the coppery-sweet taste of blood, high on the music of Abby's moans and whimpers and pleas for more.

"Enough," Mira finally says.

With her inhibitions smashed to smithereens, there's nothing to stop her from indulging in her own debauched desires. Mira's mouth is still wet with blood as she kisses Abby and Romance, alternating between them. Their pretty lips are even prettier smeared with red. She can't help kissing them again, cleaning their lips with her tongue as she savors the last dregs of forbidden wine.

"Has anyone told you that you look stunning covered in blood?" Romance asks, struggling to catch his breath.

"You do," Abby moans, bucking his hips.

Mira hisses, both at the praise and at the sudden thrust of his cock. Since she began marking him Abby's only gotten harder; riding him is irresistible. She swirls her hips, savoring the stretch. It feels even sweeter when she puts a hand to Abby's throat. His eyes roll back as she presses down hard on his collarbone with her palm, her thumb and forefinger resting against the column of his neck.

When she realizes that she's forgotten someone, her other hand lashes out. Romance gives a strangled groan as Mira pulls his hair, dragging his pretty mouth to her breasts. He needs no further encouragement; if anything, he's obsessed with worshipping them. His tongue laves over her curves, pausing only to suck delicate little love bites into her skin. When he drags his fang over her nipple just hard enough to sting, Mira almost comes on the spot.

"Aish," Abby growls as she clenches down on his cock. "So good, but I need more, I need to see you. Can I try something?"

"Sure," Mira gasps. "What—"

Before she can say another word, Abby's lifting her off his cock and into the air. How he manages to simultaneously stand, Mira isn't sure; she's too dizzy and cockdrunk to keep up. As Romance scrambles off the bed and out of the way, Abby turns her around, her back leaning against his chest, his claws grasping her thighs. Without thinking, Mira wraps an arm around his shoulder to help support herself; she doesn't realize that Abby's walking toward the dresser with the enormous mirror until she sees their reflections.

And oh, what a sight.

Abby spreads her legs wide, displaying every inch of her as Mira watches, barely breathing. Romance stands behind them, just as naked, just as beautiful, his thumb in his mouth, his hand on his cock. He licks his lips as he stares at the juices glistening on Mira's skin, at the dripping strands of slick that stretch between her thighs and the soaked curls between her legs. Abby holds her above his cock, his muscles gleaming with sweat, his eyes glinting with hunger as he devours the view.

Mira's cunt clenches helplessly, pink and puffy and swollen and desperate to be filled.

"Say please," Abby rumbles in her ear.

His gaze meets hers in the mirror, teasing her, daring her. Abby's eyes are pools of molten gold, but Mira's are pure fire, a pair of raging infernos that blaze as she yanks his hair and Abby sheathes himself to the hilt.

All three of them cry out at once. Mira chokes back a sob, overwhelmed by being split open, by seeing herself split open as Abby plunges his cock inside her and Romance drops to his knees. He laps at her folds, his tongue long and sinuous and undeniably demonic. Mira keens as he traces circles around her clit, as she watches him massage Abby's balls, as she watches Abby fuck her, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. His claws are sunk deep into the flesh of her still unmarred thighs, holding her tight as he pounds into her, as he takes her cunt like he owns it and she lets him.

And then, Mira falls apart.

Her fifth orgasm is a revelation. Mira doesn't just come, she comes undone, shuddering helplessly as she unravels on Romance's mouth sucking her clit, on Abby's cock ravaging her walls, on the sight of herself between them in the mirror.

Demons are supposed to flee from hunters, not fuck them. Abby and Romance, however, seem to have decided that the rules don't apply to them. They don't care that it's wrong, filthy, forbidden; they don't care that Mira is a hot mess of insecurities and barely restrained violence. Hundreds of years of torment, and on their one night of freedom, all they want is her. In the mirror their desire is as naked as they are, honest and unashamed, and somehow that makes Mira want more, want everything.

"I want you to fuck my ass," Mira gasps between thrusts, the words chopped and breathless. "Abby, put me down. Romance, get- get the-"

Luckily, Romance doesn't need her to finish the sentence. Not that she could. As soon as Abby pulls Mira off his cock and sets her down, she climbs him like a tree. She doesn't dare try both holes at the same time, not yet, but there's nothing to stop her from kissing Abby as she claws at his back, as she wraps her legs around his waist and grinds her cunt against his glorious abs.

The sudden coolness of lube against her puckered hole ought to startle her, scare her. Instead Mira moans around Abby's tongue, greedy for all that she can take. Romance strokes her gently, tracing the rim before crooking one finger inside, the sensation new and strange. It's careful, it's tender, it's not enough.

A twitch of Mira's hips, and her ass swallows Romance's finger up to the knuckle. She rocks against it for a little while, until she's grown used to the intrusion, until she's ready to demand more.

"Condom," Mira rasps.

To her dismay, Romance hesitates. "Are you sure?" he asks. "You've only taken one finger—"

"—and now I want to take your cock," Mira insists. She's never felt so open, so relaxed; she doesn't want to waste time on fingers when she could have something better. "I don't care if it stings, I need you now."

"You heard her," Abby groans, burying his face in her breasts. "Go on, unless you want me to get there first?"

Romance sprints for the condoms so fast that Mira laughs. While he puts one on, she drags her nails over Abby's scalp, rewarding him for the bolts of pleasure that strike every time he takes a nipple in his mouth.

When Romance's cock glides against her ass, her breath catches in her throat. Mira digs her teeth into Abby's shoulder, willing herself to stay relaxed as she feels pressure against the tight ring of muscle. For a moment it feels impossible; her hole is so small, and Romance isn't Abby but he's still a decent size, and the head is the thickest part of his cock—

"Aish!"

Whether on purpose or by sheer mischance, Romance breaches Mira in one stroke. It feels like he's plunged a knife into her guts, his cock rearranging her insides as he bottoms out.

"Sorry!" Romance blurts, panicking. 
"I can pull—"

Mira growls. "Don't. Move."

She clutches onto Abby, her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Her nerves are on fire; having a cock in her ass hurts. Strangely, that only makes Mira want it more. Romance liked it, Romance loved it, and if he can take Abby, she can take Romance. She just needs a moment to adjust, to let the pain become less intense.

Slowly, it does. It ebbs as Abby pets her hair, as Romance purrs in her ear. He's reciting sijos, his pretty voice faintly tinged with guilt. Romance speaks of love and longing, the poems smooth upon his tongue, the words soothing the pain inside her until it dulls from a stab to a sting.

That's when Mira finally rocks her ass against Romance. He follows her lead, groaning as he tilts his hips. Her insides tingle as he thrusts carefully, her tight hole gripping his cock like a vise. It burns the same way her muscles burn during a grueling dance practice, equal parts sweetness and suffering and sheer exhilaration.

There's only sweetness when Romance presses a kiss to her neck. "Taking me so well," he gasps, breathless.

Lost in sensation, Mira can't help returning his praise. "Fucking me so well," she tells him, surprised when his hips stutter without warning.

Mira means it; she's never felt such heat, such lust. Her ass squeezes around Romance's cock; her cunt smears slick against Abby's abs. She digs her nails into his back, reveling at how slippery his skin is, streaked with sweat and blood. The sight of blood makes her walls clench; she's suddenly, achingly aware that only one of her holes is filled.

"Need more," Mira pants.

"What?" Abby husks. His forehead leans against hers, their breath mingling. "Whatever you want, we'll give it to you," he promises. "Just tell us, jagi."

Jagi? This time it's her heart that clenches.

"Need you," Mira whimpers, insatiable and unashamed. "Need you back in me, need you both."

When Abby kisses her, she takes that as refusal. Frustrated at being denied, Mira pours her anger into the kiss and turns it brutal, rolling her hips to take Romance's cock deeper. Distracted by his groans and the scrape of his fangs against her skin, she's completely unprepared when Abby seizes her thighs and pulls her down.

His cock slams into her cunt so hard that Mira screams. She's full, airtight, stuffed to the brim. And for once the demons don't pause, don't hold back, don't offer an unasked for reprieve. Abby fucks her cunt and Romance fucks her ass, together, in tandem, taking turns swallowing her cries of ecstasy with their lips. Sometimes their cocks rub together inside her, separated by only the thinnest wall of flesh; sometimes they alternate, one pistoning in as the other pulls out. Either way, Mira gladly takes it all.

As hard as it is to stop kissing them, Mira has to see this.

When she opens her eyes and turns to look at the mirror, Mira almost comes on the spot. The three of them are entwined like lovers, their bodies wrapped in a carnal embrace. Only indigo skin and glowing patterns make it possible to tell where she ends and Abby and Romance begin. They hold Mira up between them, doing all the work while she sits- no, floats, her demons sheathed inside her. Her lips are swollen from kissing, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed. Mira's never seen herself so wrecked and ruined; she's never seen herself so unfettered and unwound.

For once in her life Mira can't think, just feel, and oh, it feels so good. She's never let this part of herself out before, the part that's unrepentantly wanton, wicked, depraved. Something primal stirs in her chest, a strange, possessive fondness that washes over her as she comes yet again, as she clings to her demons, as they fuck her with reckless abandon.

"Good boys," she sighs. "My good boys."

Abby and Romance give ragged groans; they falter for a moment, their cocks motionless inside her.

"Keep going," Mira urges, no, insists. She's delirious with pleasure; they've more than earned this indulgence. "You don't have to stop unless I tell you to."

And with that, Mira's eyes flutter shut. She relaxes, limp and boneless and undone, happy to drown in sound and touch. Her ears feast on a delicious banquet of noises: the poetry and praise that fall from their lips, the melodic cries that punch out of her with every thrust, the filthy wet slap of skin and flesh.

Her demons press against her in too many places to count. Abby plunders Mira's mouth with his; his claws grip her ass to hold her up; his muscles flex beneath her legs. She's spreading her thighs obscenely wide, the better to take Abby's cock in her cunt, the better to help him split her apart. Romance supports her back with his chest; his chin tucks over her shoulder; his tongue laves her neck; his claws roll and pinch her nipples as his cock plunges into her ass.

Time loses all meaning. The world shrinks to Mira and her lovers, her mind adrift on waves of sweet oblivion, her body pliant and languid as they carefully move her into a new position.

Even with her eyes closed, she can tell her demons apart. Romance is the one who fucks her against the wall, burying a hand in her hair as Abby kneels to soothe her empty cunt with fingers and tongue.

When Romance slips out of her ass, still hard, Abby is the one who carries her across the room and bends her over the table. He slides back into her cunt with a sloppy sound, cupping her tender breasts and using them to pull her back against him. Mira feels Romance kneel between their legs, hears the slurp as he laps at Abby's balls, his long tongue occasionally flicking at her folds.

"I want to come in her," Romance says, his voice rough and breathless. "Jagi, can I come in you?"

Words are beyond her. Mira gives a lazy thumbs up, then whimpers as Abby pulls out. Romance picks her up and sets her on the bed, gently laying her head against the pillows. Then he's between her legs, slinging them over his shoulders.

When his cock sinks into her the angle is new, different and deep. Romance has taken off the condom he used to fuck her ass; his foreskin glides wonderfully against her walls. While he fucks her cunt, Abby claims her mouth, his tongue twining around hers before tenderly fucking into her throat.

With all they've done, it's not long before Mira feels Romance's orgasm building. His claws seize her hips; his thrusts speed up; his words of praise slur then turn to gasps until at last he spills in her cunt. When he pulls out, Mira rubs her thighs together. Romance's come is hot and slick; she wants it inside her, not leaking out.

Abby has a different, better idea. He pushes the come back inside with thick fingers, then plugs her with his cock. Mira keens as he fucks into her, fucks into the sloppy mess of her slick and Romance's come. Romance must enjoy the view; he whimpers as he sucks her nipple, his thumb idly stroking her swollen clit.

Unlike Romance, Abby comes in silence. What he does next, however, is another matter. He's loud as he lies on his side and licks between Mira's legs, his tongue lapping up not only his own come but Romance's too.

Some of Romance's come is still on his shaft; Mira tastes it when he taps her lips with the tip of his cock. She readily opens wide, giving a long lick before she begins to suck. And while she sucks Romance, he's sucking Abby, or so she guesses from the noises he's making. She's too distracted to be sure, too busy shuddering from the glorious feeling of Abby's tongue on her clit and Romance's cock in her throat.

Mira's brain has left the building; hell, it's left Korea. And yet, somehow, one final pressing thought rises from the misty fog of pleasure. She's had both Abby and Romance in her mouth, and she's had both of them in her cunt, but only Romance has fucked her ass. That's not right; it's not fair, not to her or Abby.

Once Mira manages to stop sucking Romance's cock long enough to say so, Abby gets a condom so fast that he's back before Romance has a chance to rearrange their position. Somehow Romance ends up lying on the bed, his knees dangling off the side. With her eyes still blissfully closed, Abby has to help Mira straddle Romance like a cowgirl. Her walls ache slightly as she slides down onto his cock, staying still as Abby stands behind her. He dapples kisses over her shoulders, his lubed fingers working her ass open again.

When Abby's cock presses against her tight ring of muscle, Mira is so ready that she accidentally sucks him inside. His shaft pierces her in one punishing stroke; he's thicker than Romance, so thick that this was probably a bad idea.

But Mira's too far gone to give a single flying fuck. All that matters is the lightning rolling over her body, the bolts striking everywhere all at once. She's almost sobbing from overstimulation; when she clenches her jaw to fight back a scream, Romance thrusts his forearm against her lips, groaning rapturously when she bites down. Blood spills under her teeth, hot and coppery-sweet; Mira can feel another orgasm coming, the climb so intense she feels like she'll die.

Hysterical laughter bubbles from her lips.

"What?" Abby and Romance ask in concerned unison.

Mira shakes and shudders, unable to stop laughing. "Gwi-Ma wants you to kill me, right?"

"Yes?" Romance says, plainly baffled.

Another burst of hysterical laughter escapes her. "The French call an orgasm la petite mort, the little death."

The boys are silent; she can almost hear their confusion.

"Technically," Mira giggles, "you've been killing me all night."

A beat, and then her demons are laughing with her. The sound rolls over the room, rich and resonant; Mira can feel them laughing as their bellies shake, their cocks thrusting chaotically inside her. A wave of proud possessiveness washes over her; for tonight, Abby and Romance belong to her, not Gwi-Ma. They gave themselves to her willingly, no tricks or traps; she could kill them at any moment, yet they trust her anyway.

Mira's hands flail, one in front of her, one behind. She's close, so close; she needs to kiss her demons. Somehow she manages to grab both Abby and Romance; she kisses them in turns, unwilling and unable to decide between them.

"Mine," Mira gasps into their mouths. She repeats it over and over as her orgasm crests, as she trembles, her body spasming as the earthquake rips her apart. Dazed, it takes her a second to realize that her boys are coming with her, the same word upon both their lips.

"Yours" shouldn't change anything, but it does. Mira was already crying out with every thrust, but now her cries are almost like song, each cry a different note, the pitch rising and falling without rhyme or reason, devoid of melody yet beautiful all the same. Wisps of blue light flash past her eyelids like shooting stars, lovely and ephemeral; the world spins even though her eyes are still closed.

Oh, Mira realizes fuzzily. I'm going to pass out.

And she does.

When Mira comes to she's at the head of the bed, curled up on the pillows. Her holes are tender and gaping; she can feel come trickling from her cunt.

That should make her feel used, dirty, but it doesn't. Maybe that's because her demons are right next to her, kissing softly, each of them holding one of her hands. Mira watches muzzily as they use their free hands to caress each other, their movements slow and lazy. One of them must have left a condom on the nightstand; Abby grabs it and passes it to Romance without letting go of her hand. Getting into a good position poses more difficulty, but they figure it out. When Romance comes in Abby's ass and Abby comes on his belly, both of them are squeezing her hands tight.