"Max." His voice is steady. Controlled. But I can see the strain underneath—the clenched jaw, the rapid pulse at his throat, the barely-leashed want in his eyes. "Listen to me. You have two options. You can let us help you through this—here, now, safely—or you can try to leave and we will physically stop you. Because I am not letting you walk out into the world like this. Not when I can smell how much you need—"
"Don't say it."
"—how much youneedto be touched."
The words land like a brand. My whole body shudders.
"This is wrong," I whisper. "You're–you’re my stepbrothers. Margot is downstairs. Richard is—"
"Richard took Margot out for ice cream after your outburst." Atlas's thumb strokes over my cheekbone. "They're not coming up here. And what happens in this room stays in this room. Between us. Only us."
"Atlas—"
"Tell me to stop." His voice drops. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk out that door right now. We all will. But you have to mean it, Max. You have to look me in the eye and tell me you don't want my hands on you."
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because I can't say it. Can't lie. Not when every cell in my body is screaming for his touch, for all of their touches, for something to fill the desperate aching emptiness inside me.
"That's what I thought."
Atlas's mouth covers mine.
The kiss is nothing like I imagined. It's not gentle or questioning. It's claiming—his lips hard and demanding, his tongue pushing past my teeth, his hands fisting in my hair and holding me exactly where he wants me.
I melt. Dissolve. Become nothing but sensation and need.
My cock is so hard my head goes fuzzy and I suddenly feel faint.
Hands on my body. Too many hands. They strip me like my clothes are burning me alive—Bane at my shirt, Zero yanking at my jeans, rough and impatient. I try to keep up, try to process what's happening, but Atlas is still kissing me and my brain has gone offline.
"Wait—" I try to pull back from Atlas's mouth. "Wait, I—"
"Shh." Bane's lips against my ear. "Let us take care of you."
And then I'm naked. Exposed. Surrounded by three clothed alphas who are looking at me like I'm a feast and they're starving.
"Fuck." Zero's voice is wrecked. "Look at you."
I try to cover myself. Bane catches my wrists. Pulls them away.
"Don't," he murmurs. "Don't hide from us."
"I can't—this is—"
"Wrong?" Zero laughs darkly. "Yeah. It is. And I don't give a shit."
He drags me forward and pushes me. Just a shove, nothing violent, but I'm so off-balance that I tumble backward onto the bed. Before I can scramble up, Bane is there, catching my wrists, pinning them above my head.
"Bane—"
"Shh." He straddles my chest, keeping me immobilized, his weight a comforting pressure even as panic claws at my throat. "We've got you. Just let go."
Zero appears at my other side. He grabs my ankles. Spreads my legs apart despite my weak attempts to keep them closed.
"God, you're wet." His voice is thick with want. "Look at that fucking slick."
