The fabric loosened, and my breasts spilled free into the cool air, my nipples pebbling instantly, hard and aching. I watched their faces as they looked at me, the dark hunger in their eyes both terrifying and exhilarating.
Elias was the first to move, lowering himself over me, his gaze locked on my chest. He didn’t speak, just leaned in and took my right nipple into his mouth.
Fireworks.
That was the only word I had for it. A jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot straight through me, centering between my legs where a deep, insistent throb began to build. He swirled his tongue around the tight peak, his teeth scraping gently, just enough to make me gasp.
My head fell back, my eyes fluttering shut. “Elias…”
He hummed against my skin, the vibration a delicious torment. His other hand came up to cup my left breast, his thumb circling the nipple in a rhythm that made my hips rock against the cot.
I felt movement at my other side, and then Bishop’s mouth was on my left nipple, mimicking Elias’s movements, creating a symphony of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. Two sets of hands, two mouths, two different pressures, all working in tandem to unravel me.
Griff’s hands returned, this time to the button of my pants. His movements were slow, giving me every chance to stop him.
I didn’t. I wanted this. I wanted all of them.
The button slid free with a soft pop.
My breath hitched as he lowered the zipper, the teeth parting with a sound that was impossibly loud in the quiet room. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my pants and panties, pausing for a heartbeat, his gaze searching mine. I saw the question there, the final offer of an out.
I didn’t give him one.
I just lifted my hips.
Slowly, carefully, he drew the fabric down my legs, exposing me slowly but surely. The cool air kissed my heated skin, and I shivered, the sensation only heightening my awareness of how bare I was. He pulled the clothes off my feet, and then I was naked.
And they weren’t.
The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. They were all still fully dressed, towering over me, their clothed bodies a stark contrast to my utter vulnerability. A flush crept up my neck and spread across my chest.
The sight of them, all of them, their gazes fixed on my exposed body, sent a fresh jolt of need straight to my core.
I was on display for them. A feast laid out for their pleasure.
“She likes it,” Nox growled appreciatively “Our girl likes it when we all take care of her.”
His words, instead of shaming me, only fueled the fire. I did like it. I loved the power in my vulnerability, the way their eyes devoured me, the way they had me on the very edge of control.
Then the hands were back, and the mouths, and I lost the ability to track who was where.
A kiss landed on my shoulder, teeth scraping gently. Was it Bishop? Or Elias?
A palm slid down my stomach, fingers tangling in the curls between my legs, a teasing, possessive touch that made me gasp. Griff, maybe?
A hot, open-mouthed kiss was pressed to the inside of my knee. Eamon for sure, with the doctor’s careful, thorough exploration.
A tongue traced the curve of my hip. Nox. I knew it was him from the way it made me shiver, from the low chuckle that reverberated against my skin.
I was a map, and they were all charting me at once, their touches overlapping, blurring into a single, overwhelming wave of blissful euphoria. It was addicting and I needed more. I tried to follow each touch, to savor each feeling, but it was too much. The sensations bled into one another, a kaleidoscope of pleasure that spun faster and faster, threatening to send me over the edge before I was ready.
Two sets of hands, I didn’t know whose, parted my thighs, exposing me completely to their gazes. The knot in my stomach tightened, a hot, heavy ache building between my legs.
“She’s soaking wet,” a rough voice—I think it was Griff’s—rumbled. “And so fucking ready.”
A long finger slid through my slick folds, a careful exploration that made my back arch off the cot, and then pressed inside me. A second finger joined the first, scissoring insideme, stretching me open. I whimpered, my hips rocking against their hands, seeking more, needing more.
“Look at her,” Eamon murmured, his voice a mix of awe and clinical fascination. “The way her body responds.”
