Chapter 77: A Very Vivid Dream**

Ren sat nestled deep within a pile of plush black furs, trapped in the most delicious way possible between two very different, very dangerous predators.

Her back was pressed flush against a wall of solid, furnace-hot muscle. Kael sat behind her, his massive legs spread wide to bracket her hips, effectively caging her against his chest. He was naked, his skin radiating a feverish warmth.

In front of her sat Syris. He was close, his knees brushing against hers, his amethyst eyes dark and heavy with intent.

Kael didn’t wait. His large, rough hands slid around her ribcage, claiming the heavy weight of her breasts. His palms were calloused, the texture rasping against her soft skin in a way that made her breath hitch. He squeezed and kneaded her flesh with a primal, rhythmic possessiveness, his fingers digging in just enough to bruise.

Ren gasped, her head falling back against Kael’s shoulder, but the sound was immediately swallowed by Syris.

The Snake King leaned forward, crushing his lips against hers. His mouth opened over hers, and then—sensation struck. His tongue swept into her mouth. The split tip slid over her own tongue, the two distinct points dancing and flickering against the roof of her mouth, stimulating every nerve ending at once.

“Mmmph…” Ren moaned into the kiss, her hands clutching at Syris’ broad, naked shoulders to anchor herself.

As if sensing her pleasure, Kael ramped up his assault. His thumbs found the peaks of her breasts, circling the sensitive nubs before pinching down hard. The sharp sting mixed with the pleasure, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her groin. He lowered his head, his sharp canine teeth grazing the sensitive column of her neck. He nipped at the tendon, sucking hard on the skin, marking her, while his hands continued to milk a desperate whine from her throat.

Ren was drowning in sensation. She was being devoured from both sides.

Syris broke the kiss, pulling back just an inch. A string of saliva connected their lips before it snapped. He stared at her flushed face with a look of intense hunger, his forked tongue darting out to lick his own lips.

His hand, cool and large, slid up the inside of her bare thigh. Ren shuddered, instinctively trying to close her legs, but Kael’s grip on her waist tightened, holding her in place. Syris pushed her knees apart, exposing her completely to his gaze.

His long fingers grazed her wet heat. She was already slick, soaking wet for them. He smirked, a silent acknowledgement of her arousal, before dipping two fingers inside her.

Ren arched her back, a loud, broken moan tearing from her throat. Kael growled—a low vibration against her back—and pinched her nipples harder in response to her noise.

Syris withdrew his hand. He didn’t stop there. He leaned forward, sliding down until his face was level with her core.

Ren’s breath shattered. “Oh god…”

He grabbed her thighs, spreading her wider, and buried his face between her legs.

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt.

The forked tip of his tongue spread out, the two independent points teasing either side of her sensitive nub simultaneously. He swirled them, the fork allowing him to stimulate her with double the intensity. It was maddening. It was alien. It was perfect.

Ren’s hips bucked, her fingers tangling in Kael’s hair as she tried to pull away from the intensity, but Kael held her firm. He was keeping her steady for Syris’ feast.

Syris worked her with a maddening expertise. His tongue flickered rapidly, a blur of motion against her clitoris, while his fingers dug into her buttocks to keep her pressed against his mouth.

It was too much. It was sensory overload.

Kael’s hands were relentless on her breasts, twisting and pulling. Syris’ forked tongue was a weapon of mass destruction below. She was panting, her head thrashing from side to side on Kael’s shoulder.

“Please… I can’t…” Ren sobbed, though she didn’t know what she was begging for—for them to stop, or for them never to stop.

The tension in her belly coiled tighter and tighter, a burning knot that demanded release. Syris increased the pressure, the two tips of his tongue vibrating against her. Kael matched the rhythm, his hips grinding into her lower back.

“Ah! Ah! I’m—!”

Ren cried out, her body bowing taut like a drawn bowstring. The orgasm ripped through her, violent and all-consuming, shattering her senses into a million shards of white-hot pleasure. She clamped her thighs around Syris’ head, riding out the waves as he continued to lap up her release.

As the tremors finally subsided, leaving her panting, sweaty, and boneless, the movement stopped.

Ren slumped against the furs, her eyes fluttering open.

Both men stood up.

They towered over her, silent and imposing in the dim light. They looked down at her sprawled, naked form—her swollen lips, her flushed chest, her trembling legs still spread wide.

They were magnificent. And they were ready.

Kael stood on the left, his white hair messy, his chest heaving. Syris stood on the right, his black hair sleek, his amethyst eyes glowing.

And between their legs…

Ren’s gaze dropped.

Kael’s erection was thick, veiny, and intimidatingly large, pointing straight up. Syris’ “Twin Swords” were fully unsheathed, two long, sleek shafts standing proud and heavy, twitching with need.

Three massive cocks. All for her.

Ren stared, her mouth going dry, her heart kicking up a fresh rhythm of anticipation. She blinked, trying to focus on the impossible sight.

She blinked again.

The image of the naked Kings dissolved into mist.

The dark furs beneath her vanished.

Ren found herself staring up at a high, cavernous ceiling. Bioluminescent moss glowed in patches of soft blue and green, casting dancing shadows across the uneven rock face. The air wasn’t thick with the scent of sex; it was cool, crisp, and smelled faintly of damp earth and exotic flowers.

She was lying on a soft surface, staring up at the ceiling of Syris’ garden.

Ren lay perfectly still, her body humming with leftover adrenaline. Her skin felt overly sensitive. Her face was burning hot, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Her breathing was ragged, short shallow gasps echoing in the quiet space.

She squeezed her thighs together. There was a distinct, damp slickness there that definitely hadn’t been there when she fainted in the dungeon.

She stared at the rock above her, her mind still caught in the sensual haze, unable to fully process that the hands, the mouths, and the heat were gone.

“It was a dream,” Ren breathed out, her voice husky and broken.

A wave of profound disappointment washed over her, mixed with a lingering, throbbing arousal that pooled low in her belly. She covered her face with her hands, groaning at the vividness of it all.

“What was a dream?”

The cool, silky voice sliced through her stupor like a knife.

Ren froze.

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