Page 169 of What We Become

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I shiver at the praise, at the release of that small restraint.

My legs are still shaking when Knox lifts me from his lap, my body humming with aftershocks. He sets me on my feet carefully, one massive hand steadying my hip while I find my balance. The gallery counter holds—I can feel them watching, feel their attention pressing on my skin like hands.

“Again,” I say, before anyone can ask if I’m done.

Eli’s eyes sharpen behind his mask. “You’re greedy tonight.”

“I’m always greedy with you.”

Milo laughs, low and delighted. “That’s my favorite thing about you, kitten. Absolutely no chill.”

Holden moves closer, his blue eyes too bright even through the mask. “What do you want?”

“Everything you promised.” I look at each of them in turn. “I want the rest of you. At once.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

SAGE

Nobody moves. Then Knox laughs, low and filthy, the way he only laughs when he’s about to watch the rest of them wreck me.

“You sure?” Holden asks, his voice gravel.

“I’ve been sure since the corridor.”

Knox moves to the edge of the platform as they shift around me. Eli takes my shoulders and turns me toward the mirror, my back to him, then he bends me forward until my palms find the velvet of the chaise. My ass burns against the air, the welts sensitive and hot.

“Hold her,” Eli says.

Holden moves in front of me, his thighs bracketing my arms where they rest on the chaise. He cups my jaw, tilting my face up until I’m looking at his eyes through the mask, at the reflection of the others gathering behind me.

“Open,” he murmurs.

I part my lips and he slides his thumb inside, pressing down on my tongue. I suck automatically, hollow my cheeks, and he groans.

Behind me, hands find my hips. Multiple hands. I feel the difference in their touches—Micah’s soothing warmth spreading over my welted skin, Eli’s precise grip positioning me exactly where he wants me, Milo’s fingers testing me where I’m still slick from Knox.

“Wider,” Eli orders.

I spread my legs, heels digging into the floor, and feel myself opened from behind. Fingers slide through my slick, spreading it, preparing me. The cool press of lube follows, making me gasp around Holden’s thumb.

“Easy,” Micah murmurs against my ear. “We’ve got you.”

The hands on me still. Holden withdraws his thumb from my mouth and shifts to lift me into his arms the moment Eli says, “Move.”

He kisses me, deep and slow. And all I hear is a rustle of fabric and the soft thud of knees hitting velvet.

“We’re gonna fill you up, wildcat,” Holden murmurs, setting me on my feet and turning me toward the chaise. Eli has stretched himself out, his cock thick and heavy against his stomach. Micah is already positioning himself at the opposite end, mirroring him—legs spread, back against the raised arm, his own erection straining upward. They’ve arranged themselves so their heads are at either end, a matched set, waiting.

“Come here, baby girl,” Micah murmurs, holding his hand out to me.

I climb onto the chaise between them, knees settling on either side of Eli’s hips, and I look down to see their cocks lined up together, thick and flushed, the heads almost touching where Micah angles his hips to align them.

“Jesus,” I breathe.

“Not quite,” Milo says from somewhere behind me, and I hear the grin in his voice. “Just two guys who really like sharing.”

Holden’s hands return to my hips from behind, steadying me as I lower myself. I feel Milo’s fingers first, slick with more lube, spreading me open, testing my readiness. Then the broad pressure of both of them—Eli’s length beneath me, Micah’s above, pressed together so tightly they feel like one impossible thickness.