I’ve never felt like this. Never been so seen, so surrounded, sowanted. Every breath they take is heavy with need, every look full of longing, and all of it focused onme.
My skin tingles. Heart pounds. My body is practically humming, flushed and aching under their attention.
“That’s our good girl,” Ronan purrs against my ear, the words wrapping around me like silk before he grazes my earlobe with his teeth, making me shiver in the best way possible. “Do we have permission to touch you here?” he asks, his palm gliding over the curve of my backside—slow at first, almost teasing. Then he gives a firm squeeze, groaning low in his throat like justthatsimple contact does something to him.
“Yes,” I breathe, barely holding myself together. “Please.”
“How about here?” Rowen murmurs, his voice low and full of heat as he slips his hand beneath my shirt. His palm curves around one of my breasts, thumb grazing the sensitive peak as I arch into his touch. A second later, Ronan mirrors the motion on the other side, his other hand still lazily caressing my lower back, fingers teasing just above the curve of my ass.
My breath catches, a soft gasp escaping before my voice turns thick, needy. “Yes,” I whisper, barely able to contain the shiver rolling through me. “Please... touch me.”
Then comes Emerson—his voice gravelly, roughened with restraint and something darker. “And how about here?” he growls, the words brushing my ear like a challenge as his hand slides past the waistband of my leggings. He presses his palm against my heat, separated only by the thin barrier of my panties.
The contact is slow, deliberate.
My hips jerk, a soft sound escaping me—half moan, half plea.
They’re not just touching me.
They’re claiming every inch they find.
“Yes, Em... please.” My voice is breathless now, raw with need. I’m not even pretending to be composed. We’re way past that.
Emerson doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away—not for a second. His gaze holds mine as he drags a finger slowly across the damp fabric between my legs, tracing every contour with aching precision. The heat in his eyes nearly undoes me.
Behind me, Ronan and Rowen’s hands are everywhere—exploring, learning, worshipping. One of them slips my bra strap off my shoulder, then the clasp gives way with a soft snap. My shirt’s gone before I notice, pulled over my head and tossed aside. Their palms trail down my bare back, slipping beneath the band of my panties, fingers brushing along the soft curves there.
They aren’t rushed. Theysavor.
Every touch is deliberate.
Every groan that rumbles in their chests presses deeper into my skin than their hands ever could.
Their hands cradle my breasts with a reverence that makes me tremble, like they’ve always known exactly how to hold me. Their fingertips graze over sensitive skin, and I shudder at the feel of it all—at the way my body responds to each of them,together.
“You need more, don’t you?” Emerson’s voice grits against my ear, low and full of gravel and heat. “You going to let me slide my fingers inside this pretty, perfect pussy?”
Goosebumps race across every inch of me. I can’t breathe, can’t think. I can onlyfeel.
“Touch me,” I whisper. “You don’t need to ask. You already have me. I’m yours. All of me.Please.”
That’s when Ronan growls behind me, his fingers hooking under my chin as he turns my face toward him. “That’s permission enough for me,” he says, then crushes his mouth to mine, devouring every shaky breath I try to take. His kiss is fierce—claiming and confident. His hands are wicked as they roam my sides, tugging the rest of my clothes away until my top is exposed to all three of them. When he finally pulls back, his eyes darken as they drop to my chest. “Damn, Berk...” His voice is thick, and reverent. “Even better than I imagined. And trust me—I imagineda lot.”
Before I can tease him, his mouth is on mine again, swallowing the moan that slips free as his hand cups me possessively. He pulls me flush against his body, grinding into me with a rough groan that vibrates through both of us, his arousal pressing heavy against me.
I’m drowning in them—in their touches, their words, their heat.
And for the first time in my life... I don’t want to come up for air.
Emerson pauses, his hand sliding slowly out of my leggings, the sudden absence making me whimper against Ronan’s lips. The sound is embarrassingly desperate—and not at all subtle.
He chuckles, low and satisfied. “Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Let me get these out of the way.”
Before I can respond, my leggings and underwear are peeled down and tossed aside with the rest of my clothes, leaving me exposed under their collective gaze. The moment is thick with heat—charged, electric, like the very air is waiting for something to ignite.
Emerson’s touch returns, this time against my bare skin, his fingers gliding over the soft heat of me. We both groan, caught in the shock of that unfiltered contact. He strokes slowly, purposefully, finding a rhythm that makes my head drop back, lips parted.
“There you go,” he breathes against my neck. “Just like that.”
