My breath is already ragged, and they haven’t laid a finger on me.
Ghost pulls his knife. Cold steel kisses my collarbone for half a heartbeat before he slices my T-shirt straight down the middle.He spreads the ruined halves like curtains, baring me to the room.
Ash drops to his knees in front of me. Teeth clamp the center of my bra—one savage tug and the lace rips apart. My breasts spill free, heavy and aching in the sudden air.
Titan’s blade is bigger. He drags the tip under the waistband of my jeans, flicks once, twice. Denim and panties part like paper. He peels the shredded fabric away and lets it drop to the floor.
I’m naked.
They’re still fully dressed.
The power in that single fact makes me drip onto the old wood beneath me.
Titan leans in, voice a growl against my ear. “Here’s the rule, baby. You don’t leave this chair until every single one of us has made you come. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Only then do you get the bed.”
Ghost’s eyes darken. “And we stay dressed. You stay open. You stay ours.”
Ash brushes a thumb across my lower lip. “Think you can handle that?”
I swallow hard. “Try me.”
Ghost steps between my spread thighs like the space was carved for him alone. He never rushes; he never has. The rasp of his zipper is the only sound in the room for a long, charged second. When his cock finally springs free, it’s flushed dark, the head already slick with precum, and he fists himself once, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on mine the entire time.
Ash and Titan move in on either side of the chair. Their big hands slide under my knees, lifting and spreading me even wider, thumbs tracing soothing circles on the trembling skin of my inner thighs.
“Look at her,” Ash murmurs, voice thick with reverence. “Already shaking for you.”
Titan’s grip tightens just enough to remind me I’m not going anywhere. “Give it to her slow, brother. Make her feel every single inch.”
Ghost braces one hand on the tall back of the chair right beside my head, leans in until his lips brush mine, and pushes inside me in one long, unhurried glide that steals every ounce of air from my lungs.
He’s hot, velvet-hard, stretching me open so perfectly my eyes roll back for a heartbeat. He doesn’t thrust yet. He just stays buried to the hilt, letting me feel the throb of him inside me, letting my body flutter and adjust around every ridge.
“Eyes on me, Bonnie,” he whispers.
I force them open. His pupils are blown wide, almost black, swallowing the brown I love so much.
Only then does he start to move. He pulls back until just the head remains, then sinks in again, slow, relentless, bottoming out with a roll of his hips that drags the thick crown over that spot that makes my toes curl against the armrests. Again. Again. Each stroke is measured, claiming, like he’s rewriting his name inside me one deliberate thrust at a time.
Ash’s thumb keeps tracing small circles on my thigh. “You’re taking him so beautifully, baby.”
Titan’s lips brush my ear. “Feel how full you are? That’s all him. All for you.”
Ghost’s rhythm never wavers—steady, deep, unhurried. His free hand cups my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek as he fucks me with his eyes as much as his cock. My breath starts to hitch. My thighs tremble harder in their hands.
“That’s it,” Ghost breathes. “Let me feel you come around me. Just like this.”
The orgasm builds slowly and devastatingly, rolling up from my toes until it crashes over me in long, quiet waves. My back arches as much as the chair allows, pussy clenching hard around him, milking him in rhythmic pulses. He groans low, forehead dropping to mine, riding every aftershock with me, never once breaking eye contact.
Only when the last tremor fades does he ease out, slow and careful, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my parted lips.
“One,” he says against my mouth, voice rough with pride.
Ash and Titan gently lower my shaking legs, thumbs still stroking, keeping me open, keeping me ready.
Ghost steps back, cock glistening with me, and nods toward Ash. “Your turn.”
Ash doesn’t speak at first. He just spins the chair ninety degrees with one smooth pull so the tall back is now against his shoulder, and I’m half-reclined, legs still draped over the armrests but tilted toward him like an offering.
