They were all still fully dressed, towering over me, their clothed bodies a stark contrast to my utter vulnerability. A flush crept up my neck and spread across my chest.
The sight of them, all of them, their gazes fixed on my exposed body, sent a fresh jolt of need straight to my core.
I was on display for them. A feast laid out for their pleasure.
“She likes it,” Nox growled appreciatively “Our girl likes it when we all take care of her.”
His words, instead of shaming me, only fueled the fire. I did like it. I loved the power in my vulnerability, the way their eyes devoured me, the way they had me on the very edge of control.
Then the hands were back, and the mouths, and I lost the ability to track who was where.
A kiss landed on my shoulder, teeth scraping gently. Was it Bishop? Or Elias?
A palm slid down my stomach, fingers tangling in the curls between my legs, a teasing, possessive touch that made me gasp. Griff, maybe?
A hot, open-mouthed kiss was pressed to the inside of my knee. Eamon for sure, with the doctor’s careful, thorough exploration.
A tongue traced the curve of my hip. Nox. I knew it was him from the way it made me shiver, from the low chuckle that reverberated against my skin.
I was a map, and they were all charting me at once, their touches overlapping, blurring into a single, overwhelming wave of blissful euphoria. It was addicting and I needed more. I tried to follow each touch, to savor each feeling, but it was too much. The sensations bled into one another, a kaleidoscope of pleasure that spun faster and faster, threatening to send me over the edge before I was ready.
Two sets of hands, I didn’t know whose, parted my thighs, exposing me completely to their gazes. The knot in my stomach tightened, a hot, heavy ache building between my legs.
“She’s soaking wet,” a rough voice—I think it was Griff’s—rumbled. “And so fucking ready.”
A long finger slid through my slick folds, a careful exploration that made my back arch off the cot, and then pressed inside me. A second finger joined the first, scissoring inside me, stretching me open. I whimpered, my hips rocking against their hands, seeking more, needing more.
“Look at her,” Eamon murmured, his voice a mix of awe and clinical fascination. “The way her body responds.”
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.
All five of 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 were unfastened, 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.
I was a goddess, and they were my devoted followers.
Their hands were on me again, their mouths finding my skin, their whispers washing over me, a tide of praise and promise.
Then a pair of strong arms, Griff’s maybe, lifted me from the cot.
I gasped, my world tilting as I was suddenly suspended in the air, my legs kicking out uselessly. For a disorienting moment, all I could see was the ceiling before they flipped me back around, and all I could feel was the strength of the arms holding me, the solid, unyielding muscle of the chest against my back.
Then slowly, carefully, I was being lowered.
I looked down.
Elias lay on the cot beneath me, his eyes locked on mine. His cock was fully erect and ready for me.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight.
My body, however, knew exactly what it wanted.
The heat that had been building inside me, a slow, simmering burn, now erupted into a raging inferno. I was empty, achingly so, and I needed to be filled.
The tip of his cock nudged my slick folds, and I whimpered, my hips rocking instinctively, seeking him, pleading for him. The arms holding my waist lowered me further, a fraction of an inch at a time in a torturous, delicious descent so that I was sitting on the tip of his cock.
Then he breached me.
The sensation was overwhelming. A sudden, burning stretch, a feeling of being filled to the point of pain, followed by a pleasure so intense it was almost agony.
My head fell back with a choked cry. The arms holding me tightened, offering a steadying presence, a silent promise that I wasn’t alone in this.
Slowly, I was lowered further, until I was fully seated on him, my ass flush against his hips, the hard length of him buried deep inside me. I was panting, my body trembling uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of being so incredibly full.
Elias’s hands came up to rest on my hips, his grip tightening just a bit. “You feel that, little mate?” he growled. “You feel how perfectly you take me?”
I could only nod, my shameful arousal too strong to form words.
I took a shaky breath and began to move.
It was a slow, hesitant rhythm at first, my body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, to the intensity of him inside me. I rose up, dragging the walls of my pussy along his length, then sank back down, taking him deep again. Elias groaned, his eyes closed for a moment, and he swallowed hard.
A gasp escaped me. It felt so fucking good.
His hands guided my hips, not forcing the pace, but teaching it, showing me the rhythm that would bring us both the most pleasure. I found it quickly, my body a willing student, my instincts taking over.
I found a rhythm, a slow, sensual undulation of my hips that had him cursing under his breath, his grip on my hips tightening. His cock hit a spot deep inside me, and I couldn’t help but moan.
I lost myself in riding his cock.
Griff’s hands slid to my breasts, cupping them, his thumbs brushing over my nipples from behind me. The added stimulation sent a jolt straight to my core, and I cried out, my movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. My head fell back against his shoulder, my breath hitching with every downward thrust.
Elias pressed his fingers into my flesh hard, his control visibly straining. He watched himself disappear inside me, his own arousal a palpable thing. The sight of it, the primal hunger in his eyes, sent another surge of heat through me.
Then I felt Bishop move beside me. I turned my head, my vision blurry with pleasure, and saw him kneeling there, his own cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he watched us.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice strained with desire. ”Giving everything to your mates. You’re so perfect.”
Eamon’s touch joined the others, his hands exploring my back, tracing the curve of my spine, while Nox’s lips found my neck, his teeth scraping gently, just enough to make me shiver.
I was surrounded. Touched. Worshipped. And it was driving me insane.
The rhythm of my hips grew faster, more erratic. The coil inside me tightened, a hot, heavy ball of need that demanded release.
I rode him harder, faster, chasing that release, my body moving on pure instinct now, driven by the relentless heat. The cot creaked beneath us, a rhythmic counterpoint to my increasingly desperate gasps and moans.
“Elias,” I gasped, my hands reaching down to brace myself against his chest, my nails digging into his hard muscles. “I… I can’t…”
“Don’t hold back, little mate,” he growled, his own hips beginning to move, meeting my downward thrusts with a powerful upward surge that drove him even deeper inside me. “Come for us. Come with me deep inside you.”
That was it.
That was all it took.
The coil inside me snapped.
A strangled cry tore from my throat, my back arching like a cat’s, my body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over me. The pleasure was so intense it stripped me of all thought, all reason, leaving me nothing but a quivering, helpless mess of sensation.
As the waves of pleasure began to subside, I felt a strange new sensation. A pressure at the base of Elias’s cock, a swelling that was both alarming and intoxicatingly pleasurable.
I gasped, my body tensing.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Griff rumbled from behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. “Just let it happen.”
I tried. I really did. But my body was still humming from the force of my orgasm, still strung tight with the relentless heat, and the feeling of him expanding inside me was… overwhelming to say the least.
Then he moved, a shallow, experimental thrust, sending a fresh jolt of fiery pleasure rocketing through me. I cried out, my head falling back against Griff’s shoulder, my hips rocking back and forth, seeking more of that incredible friction.
“Feel that?” Elias growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s my knot. It means you’re mine.”
The words, possessive and primal, sent a shiver of pure heat through me. The idea of being tied to him, of being completely and utterly at his mercy, was the most deliciously forbidden thing I had ever experienced.
He thrust all the way inside me and the movement left me seeing stars.
Then he thrust again.
And again.
Each movement was a calculated torment, a deliberate drag of that thick knot against the most sensitive parts of me, pushing me towards another climax, one that promised to be even more intense than the last.
Griff held me steady, his arms a band of steel around my waist, my back pressed flush against his hard chest. Bishop’s hands were on my breasts, his clever fingers plucking at my nipples, sending piercing jolts of pleasure straight to my clit. Eamon’s and Nox’s mouths were on my shoulders, their teeth nipping, their tongues soothing, creating a maddening counterpoint to the relentless pounding of Elias’s cock.
“Look at you,” Bishop murmured, his voice a low, intimate murmur against my ear. “Taking all of him. You were made for this. Made for us.”
The knot at the base of Elias’s cock swelled impossibly larger, fully locking him inside me and stretching me to my absolute limit. The discomfort was a dull ache compared to the blinding pleasure of being so completely, irrevocably filled. There was no space, no room for anything but him, for the sheer, overwhelming reality of him inside me.
My legs were trembling uncontrollably, my muscles screaming with a strain that had nothing to do with pain. I was held aloft, suspended between Griff’s solid strength and Elias’s invasive heat, and the feeling of utter surrender was intoxicating.
“You’re so tight, Tam,” Elias grunted, his hips moving in short, powerful jabs, the movement limited by the tie between us. “You’re squeezing me so hard.”
A strangled sound escaped my throat. I couldn’t help it. He was filling every inch of me, and my inner walls fluttered and clenched around him, a rhythmic, involuntary spasm that made him curse under his breath. Another orgasm was building, fast and furious. The pressure was immense, a coiling snake in my belly, ready to strike.
“Elias,” I gasped, my hands scrambling for purchase on his sweat-slicked chest. “Please… I…”
“I know,” he grunted, his rhythm growing more erratic. “I feel it. Let go, Tamsin. Come for me again. Come all over my knot.”
His words were the final push. A wave of pleasure, more intense than anything I had ever experienced, crashed over me, stealing my breath and my senses. My back arched, a silent scream tearing from my throat as my body convulsed with the force of my climax.
The knot swelled to its fullest, sending a fresh, blinding jolt of pleasure through my already overwhelmed system, the feeling so intense, so absolute, that it was almost painful.
With a guttural roar, Elias thrust all the way into me and found his release. I felt the hot surge of his seed filling me, the fiery warmth of it triggering another, smaller wave of pleasure that rippled through my already spent body.
I collapsed against his chest, my mind a blissful haze. After a long moment his knot finally deflated and then I felt a pair of gentle hands lift me from him.
A soft whimper escaped me at the sudden, jarring emptiness he left behind. But the heat was still there, a low, simmering ember waiting to be stoked back into a raging fire. And I knew, with a certainty that was both terrifying and exhilarating, that we were far from finished.
I was lowered onto the cot, this time on my hands and knees, my body pliant, my mind a hazy fog of pleasure and need. A strong, lean body settled behind me.
Bishop.
I knew it was him from the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his touch.
His hands rested on my hips, a gentle, possessive touch that sent my head whirling with need. He took a moment, his gaze appreciative as he looked at me, at the evidence of Elias’s release still dripping down my thighs.
“So perfect,” he crooned, more to himself than to me. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Are you ready for me, little mate?”
I could only nod, my voice gone, my body already anticipating what was to come.
He positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudging my sensitive folds. He was slightly different from Elias, leaner, but no less formidable.
Then with a slow, gradual pressure, he entered me.
I cried out, the sensation of being filled again, so soon after my last orgasm, almost too much to bear. My arms trembled, threatening to give out, but I held on, bracing myself against the cot.
He started to move, and each stroke hit a spot deep inside me that made my toes curl. He watched me, his gaze intense, taking in every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace, his angle, to give me the most pleasure possible.
It was intoxicating.
It was maddening.
I lost myself to the feeling of him inside me, to the overwhelming ecstasy of it all. My world narrowed to the sounds of our bodies meeting, to the scent of our combined arousal, to the heat of his hands on my skin. His knot started to stretch me, the feeling familiar and new all at the same time. I pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Bishop,” I gasped, my fingers clutching at the thin blanket. “Please…”
He understood. He always understood.
His thrusts became rougher, more forceful, the swollen base of him stretching me wider, pushing me closer to the edge with every movement. The friction was exquisite, a delicious torment that built a fire in my blood.
“Feel that, sweet mate?” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Feel how you’re taking all of me?”
I could only whimper in response, on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. The pressure at my core built to an almost painful intensity, a tightly wound spring ready to snap. With one final, powerful thrust, he seated himself fully inside me, his knot locking into place.
Then Griff moved into my line of sight.
He stood beside the cot, his magnificent body on full display. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Bishop’s knot stretched me open, a ravenous hunger in his eyes. One of his hands wrapped around his own impressive length, stroking it in a way that mirrored Bishop’s thrusts.
Seeing him taking his own pleasure from watching us sent a fresh jolt of desire straight to my core. I moaned, pushing my hips back against Bishop.
Griff’s gaze met mine, and a devious grin spread across his face. “You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” he rumbled. “You like having us all watch you, knowing you’re driving us all wild.”
I could only nod, my throat too tight to form words, my body moving without thought, just instinct, chasing the next release that was already building deep in my core.
“Tam,” Bishop gasped, his voice strained, “you’re so… fucking… tight.”
“More,” I breathed, the word a ragged plea. “Please, Bishop, more.”
He obeyed.
With a guttural groan, he drove all the way into me, the swollen base of his cock stretching me impossibly wide. The friction of that thick knot dragging against my walls, pressing against that magical spot deep inside, made me come apart.
It started as a tingle at the base of my spine, a slow, building heat that spread through my veins like wildfire. His knot swelled even further, a hard, unyielding pressure that filled me, completed me, promising a pleasure so intense it was almost pain.
My world narrowed to this single, overwhelming sensation. The feeling of Bishop’s knot expanding inside me, the sounds of our ragged breaths, the sight of Griff stroking himself, his eyes locked on us with a predatory focus.
The edge of another orgasm glimmered on the horizon.
I looked up at Griff, watching as he stroked himself faster, his movements becoming increasingly desperate. The sight of him was my undoing.
With a cry that was half a sob, I came again, my body convulsing, my pussy clamping down on Bishop’s knot. The orgasm ripped through me, an agonizingly blissful thing that left me quaking with aftershocks.
With a hoarse cry, Bishop drove into me one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside me.
A wave of warmth spread inside me, and my body trembled in response.
But the heat, that relentless, insatiable heat, was still there.
I felt Bishop’s knot deflate, then his softening cock slipped free from me. Before I could process the loss, though, I was being moved again.
Gentle but firm hands rolled me onto my back and I found myself staring up at Eamon. His expression was a mixture of raw hunger and fierce tenderness that made my heart ache. Looking at him right now, I didn’t see the doctor. I saw my mate who needed to claim me as his own.
His gaze drifted down my body, taking in the evidence of our combined pleasure, the bite marks on my neck, the way my thighs quaked. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
“You’re doing so well, sweet girl,” he said soothingly. “Are you ready for more?”
I nodded tentatively, unable to speak.
He settled between my thighs, the tip of his cock brushing my dripping wet pussy. He was different than the others, not as thick as Elias, not as long as Bishop, but hard and eager and perfect.
He entered me slowly, making me gasp. My hands fisted in the blankets as he filled me, inch by agonizing inch.
He took his time, a controlled, almost clinical precision that was as maddening as it was exhilarating. He watched my face, my reactions, adjusting his angle, his pace, drawing out every gasp, shudder, and moan.
“Eamon,” I breathed, my hips rocking against him, desperate for more. “Please…”
He smiled. “Patience, little mate. You’ll come when I say you can come.”
He moved with a steady, relentless rhythm, each stroke a masterful blend of pleasure and torment. His hands roamed my body, tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my breasts, his touch a brand that seared my skin. His knot was next, swelling inside me. Before long, it locked in place and my eyes rolled back in my head. My mind splintered. My hips bucked wildly, seeking a release I was becoming more and more desperate for.
He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “Come for me,” he whispered.
And I did. I shattered again.
With a low groan, Eamon drove into me with one last hard thrust, his hot seed erupting inside of me in spurts. When he was finished, he collapsed against me, his body a comforting weight as his knot slowly deflated, his breath warm against my neck.
I thought, for a fleeting moment, that it was over.
I was wrong.
Strong, wiry arms—I knew they were Nox’s even before I saw him—lifted me from the cot. I felt like a ragdoll in his grip as he positioned me on my hands and knees, and I felt Nox settle behind me, Eamon still supporting me from the front.
Then I felt a slick finger probing my other entrance.
I tensed, a flicker of apprehension cutting through the haze of desire.
He couldn’t mean to… I couldn’t possibly take him there…
“Shhh,” Eamon soothed, his hands stroking my hair. “Just relax, little mate. We’ll take care of you.”
Nox’s finger was gentle, patient. He used the combined slickness from my body and the others to ease the way, circling the tight ring of muscle before pressing inside, just to the first knuckle.
I gasped, intense pleasure mingling with a deep, burning blush of shame. It was so intimate, so forbidden, and the fact that they were all watching, that they were all a part of this, only made it more potent.
“Look at that blush,” Eamon murmured. “So pretty. But you like it, sweet mate. You like being taken everywhere, even there, don’t you?”
I keened, my hips pushing back against Nox’s finger, a silent betrayal of my body’s true desires.
He worked me open, first with one finger, then two, stretching me, preparing me. The initial discomfort faded, replaced by a dark, sinful pleasure that made my head spin. The burn was delicious, a slow, constant heat that built deep in my core.
Then Eamon’s hand slid down my belly, his fingers finding my clit, already swollen and sensitive from my previous orgasms. He began to circle it, sending fiery jolts of pleasure straight through me.
“Please,” I begged, my voice a ragged whisper. “Please…”
Nox’s fingers withdrew, leaving me feeling suddenly, achingly empty. I whimpered at the loss, but the sound was cut short by the feeling of him positioning himself at my rear entrance.
He entered me slowly, carefully, the broad head of his cock pushing past the tight ring of muscle. I cried out as he stretched me, filling me in a way I could never have imagined before. It hurt in a way that felt like a wildfire, but a wave of pleasure followed in its wake.
“Breathe, little mate,” Eamon urged, his fingers still working my clit. “Let him in. Let us have all of you.”
Nox slid deeper, and I cried out. He was patient, giving me time to adjust to his size, at least until he pushed all the way inside me.
Then he began to fuck my ass in earnest.
Each stroke was a deep, possessive thrust that sent pleasure coursing through me.
Eamon’s fingers on my clit were like a drug, driving me towards the edge. My hips rocked back against Nox, meeting his thrusts.
My head fell, my eyes fluttering shut, and I moaned.
“Look at me,” Eamon commanded.
I forced my eyes open, my gaze locking with his. He was still kneeling in front of me, his expression a mixture of primal need and an adoring tenderness that made my chest tighten.
I felt a movement beside me, and then Griff was there, kneeling beside Eamon. His magnificent body was on full display, his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he watched us.
“Open up, sweetheart,” he growled.
I opened my lips and he pressed the tip of his cock to my tongue. I wrapped my mouth around his thick length, taking him a bit deeper as I got used to the feeling.
He groaned, his hand tightening in my hair. “That’s it, mate. Take me deep.”
I relaxed as much as I could, letting his impressive girth slide deeper, until he was hitting the back of my throat.
Griff’s hips began to move, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, making my head spin. I could feel his controlled restraint, the instinctual need to claim me warring with the gentle way he held my head.
Nox’s thrusts in my ass became harder, faster, his grip on my hips tightening.
“You’re so fucking perfect, mate,” he grunted.
Eamon’s fingers on my clit were a masterful torment, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with a light pressure that had me squirming, my hips pushing back against Nox, silently begging for more.
The tightness in my core squeezed, demanding release. Everything else ceased to exist. There was only Nox’s cock in my ass, Griff’s cock in my mouth, and Eamon’s fingers on my clit.
“You look so beautiful like this,” Eamon praised. “Taking all of us one after the other.”
I moaned around Griff’s cock, the vibration making him curse under his breath. His hips bucked, and I took him deeper, my throat relaxing to accommodate him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rumbled. “Take me down that pretty throat.”
Nox’s movements became more erratic, his rhythm faltering as his own release built. His hands tightened around my waist, his grip possessive, almost bruising.
Then I felt the tell-tale swelling at the base of Nox’s cock. But this was different. This was new. The thought of him knotting in my ass, of being tied to him in such a forbidden, intimate way, sent a jolt of heated desire through me.
My inner walls clenched in anticipation, a hungry, desperate response that made him growl.
“You feel that, mate?” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You feel how much I want to lock myself inside your tight little ass?”
I could only whimper in response as he continued to thrust, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. The pressure built, a slow, intense burn that stole my breath. It was almost too much, but the pleasure that came with it was blinding. The feeling of being stretched so wide, of being filled so completely, was an addiction I never wanted to kick.
With one final, brutal thrust, he seated himself to the hilt. The sensation was a white-hot explosion of pure ecstasy. Nox’s knot swelled to its full, intimidating size, locking him inside me, and I screamed around Griff’s cock, the sound muffled and desperate.
Eamon’s fingers pressed a bit harder on my clit, his firm touch sending me spiraling over the edge and making me jump off the deep end into an abyss of agonizing euphoria.
I came yet again with a strangled cry, feeling a violent, exquisite wave of pleasure that left me breathless and shaking.
With a hoarse moan, Nox’s cock erupted inside me, and I shuddered with pleasure as he filled me up.
Griff followed a moment later with a guttural roar, his hot seed spurting down my throat. I swallowed, my body trembling with the aftershocks of my own orgasm, the taste of him salty and musky on my tongue.
For a long, blissful moment, the world consisted of nothing but the pounding of our hearts, the ragged sounds of our breathing, and the exquisite feeling of being completely claimed.
They’d made me theirs.