Dante's hips snapped forward, and she cried out. Each thrust was deliberate, angled, his free hand gripping her hip with bruising force. He wasn't just fucking her. He was demonstrating.
She caught the scent of olive oil and rosemary—Mateo, the wet heat of his mouth sucking her neck hard enough to mark. Hands palmed her breast from the other side, thumb circling her nipple until it tightened into a hard peak.
"Let me show you how she likes it," Dante murmured, and his pace increased. April tried to move with him, to chase the building pressure, but Dante's grip became iron.
"Be still. You don't move until I say."
She couldn't control anything: not the angle, not the pace, not even her own body's response.
The slap of skin on skin was punctuated by her increasingly desperate sounds. Every point of contact a separate fire on her skin. When she came this time, it tore through her, her body convulsing, inner walls clenching around Dante's cock in pulses she couldn't control. She heard herself scream.
"Brava Principessa" Dante breathed, and even through the haze she felt those words like a brand.
Dante withdrew slowly, and warmth spilled down her thighs, evidence of everything that had happened. Liam moved with a towel.
"Wait." Jax's voice cut through the haze.
Everyone stilled.
She could feel the wet mess of everything they'd left inside her, and her face went hot with the awareness of being so completely, thoroughly used.
"Look at her," Jax said, and his voice had dropped into a tone she'd never heard from him, stripped of framework.
Jax moved closer, his presence a weight even without touch. His hands spread her thighs wider where she was still bent over the couch arm. Cool air hit overheated, oversensitive skin. She could feel cum dripping out of her, explicit and abundant.
"You're so full of us," he murmured, "It's everywhere."
His fingers traced where she was open, slick with the combined evidence of Killian, Dante, whatever was left of the rest. April whimpered, her nerves frayed, and still she arched into it, her body chasing sensation even now.
His fingers pressed inside, methodically gathering what was dripping out and pushing it back in with exquisite, devastating precision.
"That's it," Jax breathed. "Keep all of it."
April made a sound she didn't recognize, half sob, half moan. It hurt in all the ways that made her greedy. Her arms shook where she braced against the couch, her body caught between exhaustion and desire. She couldn’t decide if this was too much or just enough.
"Jesus Christ," someone breathed. Caleb, maybe Liam, but April couldn't focus on anything except the feeling of Jax's fingers, the depravity, the claiming of it.
For a minute no one moved.
Then Arthur stood.
The movement was sharp enough that April's eyes found him through the haze. His jaw was clenched, his hands flexing at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from crossing the distance.
Jax's fingers were still inside her.
"Jax," Arthur said, his voice strained. "Move."
Jax withdrew immediately, stepping aside, and Arthur was there in three strides.
His hands gripped her hips and turned her to face him. For a moment he looked at her, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
"I need." he started, then swallowed hard. "Tell me you can take more."
"Yes," April said immediately.
He lifted her easily, hands turning her once more, gripping the backs of her thighs, spreading her wide as he hooked her legs over his forearms. She was completely open to the room, held in place by nothing but his strength. He lowered her onto his cock in one smooth motion.
The stretch was immediate and intense. Arthur was bigger, noticeably bigger than the others, even after everything, her body had to work to accommodate him. The burn made her gasp, made her fingers dig into his forearms as he filled her.
