Finn barely has time to nod.
Grayson turns without waiting, bends at the waist, and lets the shorts slide to the floor. His body catches the light, all gold skin and shadowed muscle—every inch of him bare.
Except for the silver chain and plug.
A silver circle nestled between his cheeks, gleaming withslick and topped with a glittering ruby.
Finn swears he feels it—just imagining how it must have pressed with every twist and grind, every beat of the music riding up through Grayson’s spine. A low sound breaks in his throat. He doesn’t even realize he’s leaning forward.
Grayson stands.
And whatever Rowan sees is enough to catapult him over the edge.
He comes with a raw groan, locking Luca tight on his knot. Their beta slumps back against his chest, boneless, eyes dark and glittering behind heavy lids. His cock’s soft, but a final pulse sends another spurt across his thigh.
Jay’s next, fisting himself to completion with a strained moan. “Gray—fuck.”
Finn’s cock jumps hard. Watching his mates fall apart always pushes him closer, but this—this is unbearable. He pulses under his skin, just one touch away from losing it.
But he’s not ready for it to be over.
Grayson turns, slow and deliberate, so Finn can see what brought his more experienced mates to their knees.
The chain trails down, anchored to a silver ring sitting snug just beneath the flushed head of Grayson’s perfect cock.
“Gonna make you come now, Finnie,” he says, voice wrecked and steady. “I want to ride you, okay?”
Thank the gods the question is rhetorical because Finn couldn’t speak even if he tried.
The music changes. Rihanna’sSkinstarts slow and deliberate, her voice pouring through the room like melted honey.
Finn doesn’t wait. Can’t for one minute longer.
He grabs Grayson’s hips and leans forward, taking his cock deep into his mouth. The weight of it, the taste, the metallic drag of the chain against his tongue—he wants it all stamped into memory.
Salty. Sweet. Love and pack.
Grayson moans, hips rolling. One hand threads into Finn’s hair, the othertraces along the edge of his stretched lips, reverent and teasing.
“Goddess, Finnie. So good,” he pants, the words punched out in time with a thick blurt of precome that coats the back of Finn’s throat.
The dance brought him close, but this? Being watched, being wanted, being taken apart?
It’s pushing Finn to the edge.
“Stop, baby. I want to come with you,” Grayson groans, though his hips keep moving, grinding like he’s chasing orgasm despite himself. “Please, Finnie.”
The scent hits Finn first—basil, sweet and wet and thick with heat—coiling around his thoughts like a vine. It’s almost enough to keep him down, lost in taste and motion.
But thatplease.It cuts through where the hand in his hair hadn’t, pulling him back to himself, back to the ache in Grayson’s voice.
Grayson reaches for the buttons of Finn’s white shirt, fingers trembling as he works them open one by one. The fabric sticks where it clings to sweat, peeling back to reveal flushed skin, the rise and fall of Finn’s chest fast and shallow. When he spreads it open fully, his mouth drags across Finn’s collarbone, leaving a streak of red lipstick behind. He leans in close, just enough to sing with Rihanna,“All I want to see you in is just skin…”
Grayson’s thighs tremble as he leans back. He braces both hands on Finn’s shoulders, panting as he settles back into his lap, skin slick and glowing. Across Grayson’s belly, the chain glints—a strip of silver against sweat-slick skin, catching the light.
Grayson reaches behind himself, pulls the plug free with a low, shaking moan, and drops it onto the towel Jay tosses beside them.
Finn’s cock is flushed dark, twitching, the head wet with pre-come. He expects drag, maybe burn—he hasn’t been touched, not really—but when Grayson starts to sink down, it doesn’t catch.
