“Make sure she can’t see,” Nash says from near my feet.
I turn my head toward him, about to reach out, but someone clasps my hands and guides them over my head. “And I’ll make sure all she can do is feel,” Theo murmurs as the ribbon binds my wrists.
My breath catches. They’re all here. Finally.
No more walls, no more hesitation, no more saving the realm. Just me and these four wonderful males who know my heart.
Someone rolls me onto my back, and I can feel their gazes sweeping over me. I tug on the material, finding it secured to the head of the bed.
They move around me, and my brain tries to keep up with who is where. Then a mouth closes over my nipple, sucking hard. Theo, I think.
Teeth graze my stomach. Nash?
I wriggle against my bonds, but the simple knots hold me tight. Another mouth on my other breast short-circuits any need to figure out who is where.
“Just feel,” someone whispers, but I can’t make out their voice. “Don’t overthink it.”
They’ve done this for me. I’m nervous. What woman wouldn’t be when faced with four burly knights? I know they’d never hurt me, but pushing me to my limits? Yes, they relish that.
“Someone needs to kiss me,” I demand.
Heat abandons my breast and covers my mouth. Definitely Malachi. His kisses are tender yet demanding at the same time, as unique and special as he is.
A hand circles my ankle and kisses curve up my calf before something secures it to the corner, followed by the other, stretching me wide open. A pillow is guided beneath my ass, lifting me to a better angle for...
Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Hot flicks of a tongue cross my clit, manipulating that bundle until it’s throbbing. I feel empty and needy. “Please,” I beg.
“Don’t,” Nash warns. “Make her wait. She isn’t nearly needy enough yet.”
“A maiden could grow to hate you,” I snap.
He huffs a laugh. The heat from my breast disappears and soft, subtle leather slides between them. What are?—
The lash catches me by surprise, but not from pain. The pleasant sting stirs something inside of me, and I arch my spine, reveling in the warning of the leather resting across my chest. “Again.”
“You are fucking perfect,” Nash growls. The next time lands a little harder, and fire laces my spine while my core clenches around nothing. Someone covers my mouth with theirs, swallowing my moans and claiming them.
The leather moves lower before resting between my legs. Whoever is kissing me breaks away, both of us gasping and breathing each other’s air.
“You want this?” Nash murmurs in my ear as someone pinches my nipples.
Wait. I thought he was the one with the leather? “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please,” I beg.
“You hear that, brother?” Nash says. “How prettily she begs for your belt?”
Oh, that’s what it is. A breeze whispers through the air, and the strike lands on the bundle of nerves. It’s purposefully softer, but by design pushes me so close to the edge I think I am about to fly. My thighs tense as heat floods between my legs. Even I can sense how wet I am, and they’ve barely begun.
The belt slides between my legs. “Again?” Nash asks.
I nod, but nothing happens. Damn knights. “Yes.”
“Beg,” someone else demands, knowing how close I am and reveling in the fact that once more will be enough to push me over the edge.
