Cass lost track of how long Edgar spent between his legs. All he knew was the endless pleasure, those probing fingers, that dangerous tongue and the glittering, blue eyes that watched him, starved.
It didn't matter how much he made Cass cum, the man was hungry for every orgasm, every little leg tremble, gasp, moan, desperate grasp of Gideon for support. He was a beast, uncontrollable and when he finally came up to breathe, his face was damp, his fangs on full display and fuck, he was sure his face was a little pruny.
Cass' legs were covered in marks. The pale skin showing off the nibbles, bites, and other marks that Edgar decided to decorate him with. Cass' chest wasn't much better. Gideon hadn't just been standing there doing nothing. He'd been touching, stroking, loving Cass while Edgar drove him to orgasm, over and over.
