Her eyes lift to mine through the haze.
I start unbuttoning my shirt.
Slowly.
Not for effect. Because I need the moment. Need her to see me coming to her with no pretense left. Belt next. Shoes. The rest of it. By the time I fist my cock, she’s still panting, still trying to come back to herself, and I am done pretending this is about patience.
I draw her to the edge of the bed.
“I meant it, Reva.”
My words cut through the post-orgasm daze enough that her eyes sharpen.
“No more running.”
Then I push into her. Her whole body bows with it.
Yeah.
My little wolf is ready.
She takes me hot and slippery and impossibly tight, already stretched, already worked open by the other two, but still gripping me like her body can’t decide whether to keep me out or drag me deeper.
“Taking us so well,” I murmur, because she is. “Own it.”
I fuck her hard.
Not as rough as Ever. Not as hungry as Shiloh. My own way. Deep, possessive, controlled right up until it stops being controlled at all.
Her cunt milks me with every thrust. Shiloh brushes damp hair from her forehead, kisses her temple, murmurs, “Take his cock just like you took mine, pretty girl. Make him come.”
The words make her contract around me.
“Fuck.”
Too much edging.
Too much want.
With anyone else, control is instinct. Effortless. I decide the pace. I decide the line. I decide when enough is enough.
With her, every starving part of me wants more than I should permit myself. More than I should need.
She looks ruined and glowing and held by the other men I trust most in the world, and for one blinding second the whole thing stops feeling like punishment and starts feeling dangerously close to devotion.
I reach down and pinch one of her nipples.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Just enough to make her feel me in it. Just enough to remind her that even here, even now, I am part of this. Part of them. Part of what she chose.
She breaks with a sound that goes straight through my spine.
Her body goes tight, then helpless, and I feel the exact second pleasure tears through her hard enough to steal whatever fight she had left.
It wrecks me, the way she comes apart. She does it with us. Together.
Because for one searing, impossible second, the fear that’s been riding under my skin since I saw her in this room finally has somewhere to go besides violence.
