A thumb brushed against my clit, and I cried out. The pressure was light, almost teasing, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with a maddening slowness.
A mouth descended upon my clit, hot and wet and demanding. A set of fingers slid inside me, curling, stroking, and finding a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes.
I was completely lost.
My hands fisted in the blankets, my head thrown back, my breath coming in ragged, desperate pants.
“Please,” I gasped. “Please…”
A thumb and forefinger found my nipple, pinching, rolling, and sending another jolt of pleasure straight to my core. Another set found the other, mimicking the movements, creating a multitude of sensation that was too much, yet not enough.
My hips bucked wildly, seeking a release I was desperate for. The fingers inside me curled again, pressing against that spot, and the mouth on my clit sucked hard.
That was it.
I shattered.
An unrestrained cry tore from my throat. My body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over me, one after the other. My vision went white, and for a long, blissful moment,there was nothing but the exquisite, overwhelming pleasure of unraveling beneath them.
They didn’t stop.
The fingers kept moving, the mouths kept tasting, the hands kept touching, drawing out my orgasm, milking every last drop of pleasure from my trembling body.
When the waves finally subsided, I collapsed against the cot, feeling a bit numb and boneless. My skin was slick with sweat, my muscles loose and pliant.
I opened my eyes to find them all watching me, their expressions a mixture of hunger, pride, and something that looked a lot like adoration.
“Beautiful,” Elias murmured, his voice a low growl. “But we’re not done with you yet.”
An intense surge of heat tore through me, a reminder that the primal need driving me was far from sated. The orgasm had been a temporary reprieve, a firebreak in a wildfire that still burned, hot and relentless, deep in my core.
I needed more.
I needed them.
Allfiveof them.
One of them—Eamon, maybe—drew back, and I whimpered at the loss of contact. But then I heard the rustle of clothing, the soft thud of boots hitting the floor. I lifted my head, my gaze hazy, and watched, mesmerized, as they began to undress.
Shirts were peeled away, revealing hard-muscled chests, powerful arms, and skin I ached to touch. Pants wereunfastened, then kicked aside, until they were all as bare as I was.
And fuck, they were magnificent.
Bishop, slender and graceful, his form a study in controlled elegance, every muscle defined, every line precise. Eamon, all quiet intensity and focused energy, his body lean but strong, hands that could both heal and destroy. Griff, all raw power and rugged strength, his body a landscape of hard planes and scars. And Nox, with wiry strength, was coiled danger, his body a testament to a life lived on the edge, every inch of him radiating a confidence that was both thrilling and a little terrifying.
Elias was the last to undress. He moved with a predatory grace, his gaze never leaving mine. As he revealed himself to me, I couldn’t help but bite my lip with desire. He was beautiful, in a way that was almost painful to look at, commanding power and quiet authority wearing skin.
My gaze drifted over them, over the hard evidence of their own arousal, and my lips parted. I wanted to taste them, to feel them, to be filled by them, over and over again, until the heat was finally sated, until the bond was satisfied, until there was nothing left of me but them.
I didn’t have to ask.
They knew.
Griff moved first, reclaiming his place beside me, his big body bracketing mine.
“You’re so beautiful, Tamsin,” he rumbled, and my breath caught.
Eamon knelt at my feet, a question in his gentle eyes. Bishop came to my other side, his hands tracing the curve of my hip. Nox knelt behind me, his hands framing my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. Elias stood above me, his gaze burning with a hunger that made my soul ache.
