“I shouldn’t,” I’d said, but held out my glass anyway. “I have work tomorrow.”
“Call in sick,” Tristan had suggested, his arm draped casually across the back of the sofa behind me. He’d leaned in, and I got a whiff of his spicy ginger scent and a glimpse of the warmth in his brown eyes. “Stay with us a little longer.”
The champagne had made me bold. “And what would we do, exactly, if I stayed?”
Four sets of eyes had fixed on me with an intensity that should have been terrifying. Instead, it had been... thrilling.
“Whatever you want,” Rett had said, his voice low and so full of promise.
And what I’d wanted, apparently, was to kiss him. So I had. I’d set down my glass, walked right up to him, and pressed my lips to his.
He’d frozen for a split second, surprised by my boldness, before his arms had wrapped around me, pulling me against the hard wall of his chest. His kiss had been commanding, authoritative, his lips firm, a hint of expensive whiskey on his breath.
When we’d finally broken apart, both breathing hard, I’d turned to find the other three watching us with identical expressions of hunger.
“Don’t look at me like that if you’re not planning to do something about it,” I’d challenged. The champagne must have made me reckless.
Tristan had been the next to approach, a playful smirk on his lips, the dimple in his cheek a stark contrast to the raw hunger in his deep brown eyes. His kiss was different. Teasing, but no less intense. Then Diego, whose touch had been reverent, his calloused fingertips gently tracing my jawline. And finally, Dane, his pale blue eyes a storm of hidden emotion, his kiss surprisingly soft before it deepened with a passion that left me breathless.
The world had narrowed around the five of us. Clothes suddenly felt like an unbearable restriction. My fingers went to the buttons of Rett’s shirt as his hands found the zipper on my dress. A low growl of approval rumbled through the room as my dress pooled at my feet, followed swiftly by the rest of our clothes, discarded in a heap on the floor.
“Bedroom,” Rett had growled, his voice thick with an alpha command as he scooped me into his arms, my naked skin against the hot expanse of his chest.
And somehow we’d ended up there, a tangle of limbs and kisses and discarded clothing. I remember the feel of silk sheets against my naked back, the weight of Rett’s body over mine as he’d kissed his way down my throat.
“You smell incredible,” he’d murmured against my skin. “Like nothing I’ve ever?—”
“You’re a beta,” Tristan had interrupted, his hand sliding up my thigh, his dark skin a beautiful contrast against mine. “How do you smell this good?”
“Does it matter?” Diego had asked, his lips finding my wrist, pressing a kiss to my pulse point.
Dane had said nothing, but his hands had been gentle as they’d cupped my face, turning me toward him for another deep kiss.
I’d been surrounded, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Four sets of hands, four mouths, all focused on giving me pleasure. I’d never felt so desired, so... cherished.
“Tell us what you want, Zoe,” Rett had commanded, his fingers tracing patterns on my inner thigh, making me shiver.
“Everything,” I’d gasped. “All of you.”
A growl of approval had rumbled through the room, a sound that had vibrated through my very bones.
What had followed had made me go weak. Tristan’s clever mouth between my thighs, making me cry out as he tasted me. Diego’s lips on my breasts, lavishing attention on each sensitive peak. Dane’s hands everywhere, touching, stroking, learning my body.
And Rett had watched it all, his eyes dark with desire, occasionally leaning in to claim my mouth in searing kisses that left me dizzy.
“Please,” I’d begged.
“Soon,” Rett had promised. “We’re going to take such good care of you.”
And they had.
Tristan had been first, sliding into me with a smooth thrust. He’d propped himself up on his forearms, his muscular shoulders flexing with each movement. “So good,” he’d groaned against my neck. “So fucking perfect.”
Our combined release had left me boneless and wantingmore. Before the last tremor had even faded from my body, Diego was there, gathering me into his arms. He’d whispered endearments in Spanish as he’d moved inside me. His dark hair had fallen across his forehead, and he’d brushed it back impatiently, his gaze never leaving mine. “Hermosa,” he’d murmured, “Eres una diosa. Beautiful. You are a goddess.”
Dane had surprised me. The quiet one, who barely spoke, had been intensely vocal during sex, a steady stream of praise and dirty talk that had made me blush and burn.
“So fucking tight,” he’d growled. “Fuck, darling, take all of me.”
