5

The princess was carried into a spacious room. There was no light here, only moonlight. Deamara only had time to notice a huge window hidden by light curtains, and behind it, it seems, an exit to a balcony, from where a fresh, but not at all warm autumn wind blew. A wide, roomy bed under a canopy, covered with skins, was freely located against the wall - several people could easily fit on it.

The girl was let go. Salty tears were still running down her face, her body was trembling with excitement and fear. Aznar slowly touched her neck with his lips. Deja twitched at the burning touch.

“Deya, my dear, don’t be afraid,” Markat whispered behind his back. 

And very quiet: - I'm sorry that so ...

Beria also came up and began carefully and slowly unbuttoning the chains on her dress. Deamara trembled under his arms and couldn't control herself. Aznar hugged her from behind, and Deya immediately felt hot from his body, the werewolf kissed her neck and shoulders, no longer stopping. The princess heard only his indistinct whisper and sometimes a low growl. Chains fell to the floor, the liberated dress waved in a wave. Aznar touched the blond hair, carefully removed the jewelry that held it, and easily untwisted the braid. Deja felt him press his face against her hair, bury his nose in it.

- How delicious you smell! the man whispered.

A short roar from Beria and the werewolf in one sharp movement tore the thin fabric of the dress, which obediently slid down to his feet, leaving the girl completely defenseless. At the same moment, Aznar slightly bit her shoulder from behind, it didn’t hurt, but Deamara screamed in surprise and Beria immediately covered her lips with a kiss.

The world around was blurred and swam. Deya forgot how to think and how to breathe, the hands of one werewolf stroked her back, descending lower and lower, burned with touches, while the second took possession of her chest, stroking and squeezing. Deya felt that her own body was betraying her, and she was already sobbing involuntarily under the hard and at the same time gentle hot hands. Beria broke away from her lips and kissed her neck, collarbone, breasts. Deja saw his eyes phosphorescent like an animal in the dark, but that didn't frighten her at all, not now. Aznar touched the sensitive flesh between her legs, and the girl shuddered all over, ran her hands through Beria's hair, trying to hold on. The man in response lightly bit her nipple and purred contentedly when he heard a moan. What Aznar did was generally unimaginable and unbearable.

Finally the girl was released. Aznar gently pulled her onto the bed, and Deya felt the caressingly soft skins on her bare skin. Her face and body were on fire. Bery lay down beside him, playing with the fangs on the girl's chest. Aznar kissed her belly, made her arch from his caresses, then spread her legs apart. Deja realized that she wanted to accept him right now, immediately. Herself.

The girl moaned softly. Bery again greedily pressed his lips to hers, now imperiously crushing them, now caressing her tongue. The girl's hands were entangled in his hair. How soft and thick they are... At that moment, Aznar pushed forward sharply, and the girl's scream merged with his moan. The man froze, giving the opportunity to get used to and slowly, very slowly, began to move. The world around Deya disappeared and her whole being focused on unusual painfully sweet sensations. Her body arched itself, adjusting to the rhythm, which gradually accelerated. The man groaned briefly, the thrusts became stronger and more aggressive, he no longer restrained himself. He tightly squeezed the girl's hips with his hands, leaned on her, froze, breathing heavily. Deya, not knowing what she was doing, obeying her instincts, squeezed the man with her hips, almost demanding to continue. Aznar leaned over and Deamara received a kiss full of tenderness and gratitude. Then the man pulled away and almost fell onto the bed.

Bery, meanwhile, got up and began to stroke one of the girl's legs, then painfully kissed the inner surface of the thigh. His long hair fell over his face, and it seemed to Deamare that his eyes gleamed slyly in the darkness. He slowly entered, the girl arched and groaned, while Markat snarled briefly. He was not so gentle and patient, but Deja no longer needed it. Bery leaned his hands on the bed, Deya wrapped her legs around his torso. Pain mixed with pleasure and desire. Deamara clung to the skins from incredible tension, tearing out hairs, Aznar moved closer, kissed her, sucking her lower lip, biting her lightly. The girl shuddered all over, and a wave of pleasure passed through him from the stomach, down her legs. Beria soon froze, cautiously stepped back.

Deya felt an amazing inexpressible lightness, her body seemed to float in weightlessness, swaying slightly, and the creature became completely empty and clean. The girl heard only the rapid breathing of the two men and her own, she felt the air filled with a thick and spicy smell. Reality trembled and slowly drifted away, pulling her into dream worlds.

***

Bery watched as the sleeping girl, spread out on the bed, was breathing measuredly. So unusual, so fragile... Blond hair, milky white skin, thin graceful hands, sensual body, a little childish, plump lips.

His brother stood next to him on the balcony. Beria knew that he, too, was looking at her. Felt. I felt it all over my skin, pleasantly chilled by the night breeze.

“Why are you and I so unlucky,” Bery chuckled bitterly. - Lanaren alone for two, the daughter of our enemy, which is why we are now on the verge of open war. Moreover, the family will not have heirs, which will greatly undermine our right to rule over our people.

Aznar did not even move next to him.

-What? Beria squinted his eyes. - Again you say that the gifts of the Goddess do not reject?

- Do not reject - Aznar sighed. Then he put his hand on his brother's shoulder. - You should have been nicer to her. She's still almost a child. And it's not her fault she's in this situation.

Beria snorted indignantly.

-Yes, I know! It's just... when I look at her, so many emotions arise at the same time, and her smell just blows my head. I don't understand how you keep yourself so calm?

Aznar laughed softly.

- You're still very young.

You are only four years older than me! - Beria's whisper sounded obvious indignation.

“Sometimes it’s a lot,” Aznar deftly intercepted his brother’s hand when he tried to poke him in the ribs. - See? That's what I'm talking about.

“Let go,” the younger brother growled, releasing his hand and grimacing. - Come on, let's go for a run through the woods. And then I'm next to her ... going crazy, it seems.