I was surrounded. Touched without being taken. Held without being consumed.
And still, the fire burned.
My hips shifted on instinct, seeking friction, seeking each one of them, every breath drawn tight through my nose as I tried to hold onto the last threads of composure I didn’t really want to keep.
“She’s trembling,” Eamon said softly, like he was both concerned and awed.
“She’s barely holding on,” Griff added, and I felt him press his lips to the side of my neck. “Aren’t you, Tam?”
I couldn’t answer. I moaned instead.
Bishop leaned in close, his voice like silk against my cheek. “Let go, little one. Let us have you.”
The endearment hit something deep and old inside me. I whimpered again, and one of them—Griff, I think—tightened his grip just slightly in my hair, causing a flare of pain and pleasure to ricochet through me.
“You’ve been so strong,” Elias said near my ear. “Now you’re ours.”
And Iwas. I felt it every place they touched me, in every look they gave, in the way the bond wound through all six of us, tangled and hot and alive. There was no question anymore. No fear.
Only this.
Onlythem.
Their mouths found me in turns. Soft kisses, hungry ones, claiming ones. My skin was mapped inch by inch, hands sliding beneath fabric, heat building with every brush and stroke. I felt like I was being adored and devoured all at once.
I didn’t know whose hand it was in my hair when my head tipped back.
Didn’t know whose voice it was that whispered, “Beautiful.”
Didn’t care.
I let them touch me. Let them murmur. Let them take me down, piece by piece, until I forgot what it was like to hold anything together. Until I was breathless, flushed, and open beneath them.
Until I was nothing but theirs.
Bishop lifted my hand and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my palm. The sight of it made me dizzy. The feel of it made me gasp.
“Breathe, sweet thing,” Nox purred, and I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he said it. My chest shook with the exhale, and with it, more of myself gave way.
Griff’s hands traced the curve of my waist beneath my shirt, thumbs brushing just under the band of my bra. “She’s so sensitive here.”
“Everywhere,” Eamon countered, “she’s sensitive everywhere now.” His fingers ghosted over my collarbone, and I arched into his touch, body chasing more without my permission.
That pulled a dark chuckle from Nox. “That’s our girl.”
My cheeks burned. I tried to turn my face away, but Bishop’s hands were there, gentle and firm, turning me back. “No hiding, Tam. Not from us. Not ever.”
He was right.
I was past the point of hiding.
I reached for him, pulling him down into a kiss that was messy and desperate and everything I hadn’t let myself want until now. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I was gone, drowning, lost to the taste of him and the press of his body against mine.
When he pulled back, my shirt was gone.
I blinked, confused for a moment, my mind too foggy with need to process how it had happened. Then I saw Griff’s hands, the fabric of my shirt held loosely in them, tossed aside like it had offended him somehow. Bishop’s fingerslingered at the clasp of my bra, a question I answered with a choked whimper, arching my back into his touch.
With a click, the hooks gave way.
