I leaned over her, placing a kiss just under her jaw, following the path Griff had started. She tipped her head for me, a soft sound slipping from her again. My lips brushed down theside of her neck, tasting the scent that had driven me to near madness all morning.
Griff’s large hands slid under her shirt slowly, revealing the soft skin of her belly, the curve of her waist. He pressed kisses to her ribs and at her waist, murmuring things I couldn’t quite hear but didn’t need to. She was already trembling beneath him, eyes fluttering closed as his touch soothed and ignited her in equal measure.
Eamon came to her other side, fingers dancing lightly along her arm, brushing over the inside of her wrist, mapping her pulse with his mouth. “You don’t have to be strong for anyone right now,” he said. “Just let go.”
“I want to,” she breathed.
Bishop leaned down next, his kiss landing on her collarbone, then trailing lower. His touch was careful in the same way that he handled everything important, measured and thoughtful.
Nox worked lower still, slipping off her boots with a grin that made her smile even through the haze of heat. “Let us worship you, Tamsin,” he said. “Every inch. Every scar. Every part of you.”
CHAPTER 12
Tamsin
My entire world became just heat and breath and hands.
I was acutely aware of my body in a way that made thought slippery and distant. My every nerve was lit up, every inch of skin too sensitive, too awake. The bond thrummed through me, loud and demanding now, no longer content to hum quietly in the background.
I wanted them.
All of them.
The realization hit hard enough to steal my breath away. I’d kept my heat locked away while I bandaged wounds and took care of the injured, but now it had come back with the fury of a category five hurricane.
Elias’s gaze held mine, dark and calm, and something in me folded at the quiet authority there. There was no rushing orcrowding me. He simply waited, and the waiting itself made my pulse stutter.
I arched without meaning to, a soft sound slipping free before I could stop it.
Griff’s hands were everywhere all at once, holding me in place even as my body strained toward more. His voice was rasping against my ear, reminding me I didn’t have to think, I didn’t have to lead, and I didn’t have to hold anything together anymore.
Bishop’s touch was intentional, making every brush of his fingers feel like it meant something important, like he was choosing me again and again with each caress on my skin. It made my chest ache in the best way.
Eamon’s presence soothed and unmade me all at once, with his gentle words and careful hands. His hand cupped my cheek, and I pressed back against his palm.
Nox watched me like he knew exactly how close to the edge I was, as though he was daring me to fall and promising to catch me when I did. His mouth curved with that knowing smile, and when he leaned close, his voice dipped just enough to make my knees weak.
I couldn’t stop trembling.
I didn’t want to.
The heat surged, much louder and more demanding now, tearing away the last of my careful composure. I reached for them blindly, fingers clutching at fabric and skin, needing to feel them, to be surrounded, to be claimed.
To come undone.
“I can’t—” I breathed. “I don’t want to think.”
“You don’t have to,” Elias said quietly.
“Good,” I whispered.
After that, there was nothing but sensation.
The way Elias’s voice wrapped around me like velvet and steel, a quiet command that needed no volume to land. The way Griff held me, big and warm and steady, one hand splayed against my lower back, a forever promise of his protection. The way Bishop’s lips found the corner of my jaw, featherlight… The way Eamon’s fingers ghosted over my pulse points—my wrist, my neck, the inside of my thigh—as if mapping the places I felt too much, and Nox, smiling wickedly as his breath and his tongue dragged across the shell of my ear.
“You smell so ready for us, sweetheart,” he murmured deviously.
I shivered, the sound flooding me with want.
