Rose
I start stripping as I walk toward the bed, letting each piece of clothing drop to the floor behind me like breadcrumbs. Four pairs of eyes track my every move. Drake’s eyes widen with undisguised want, Lucien’s darken with possessive hunger, Soren’s gleam with mischief, and Ash, well, Ash looks ready to devour me whole. I’ve never felt so powerful and so vulnerable all at once, standing naked in a room with four fully clothed men who look at me like I’m the center of their universe.
I perch on the edge of the ridiculous bed that is exactly the right size for what we’re about to do. They exchange glances, some silent communication passing between them. They’re getting annoying good at that.
Then Drake steps forward. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything you say.”
With the others, I know it will be different. But with Drake, this beautiful former ghost who’s been watching the world for acentury without being able to touch it, there’s something perfect about being the one who shows him how to touch me.
“Take off your clothes,” I command, surprised by the authority in my own voice. “Slowly.”
He does it without hesitation, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate fingers while maintaining eye contact. When he’s fully naked, I feel my mouth go dry. Drake’s body is muscled and perfect.
“Come here,” I say, patting the space beside me on the bed.
I’m aware of the others watching, settling themselves on the various seats around the room. They’re giving us space, but their eyes never leave us. It’s intoxicating, being the focus of so much attention, the main attraction in what is about to become a very adult show.
Drake sits beside me, his hands hovering near but not touching. Waiting for permission. Waiting for instruction.
“Kiss me,” I tell him. “But don’t use your hands yet.”
He leans in, his lips meeting mine gently. I deepen the kiss, running my tongue along his bottom lip, and he responds eagerly, following my lead.
“Now touch my breasts,” I murmur against his mouth. “Lightly at first.”
His hands come up immediately, and the first brush of his fingertips against my nipples makes me moan a little. I guide his touch, showing him exactly how much pressure, exactly where I like to be touched.
“Harder,” I tell him, and he obliges, rolling my nipples between his fingers until I’m clenching my thighs.
I hear a groan from elsewhere in the room.
I push him back on the bed, climbing on top of him. “Stay still,” I instruct. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
Drake nods, his eyes dark with desire as I position myself above him. I feel powerful, in control, as I take him inside me inch by inch, setting my own pace. The sensation of him filling me is exquisite, and I make a little noise.
“You feel amazing,” he says, his hands clenching the sheets to keep from moving.
“You can touch my hips now,” I say, and his hands immediately come up to rest there, his grip firm but not controlling. I’m still in charge.
I begin to move, riding him slowly at first, then faster as pleasure builds within me. I’m acutely aware of our audience, of the three other men watching with varying degrees of patience. It adds an extra layer of excitement, knowing they’re seeing me like this, in control and taking my pleasure.
I slip a hand between us, finding my clit, and the added stimulation is exactly what I need. I circle it with my fingers as I continue to ride him, feeling the tension build.
“Don’t come until I do,” I tell him, and I see him swallow hard, nodding.
I increase my pace, my fingers working faster, and when the wave of pleasure crashes over me, I cry out, my body clenching around him. Only then do I whisper, “Now, Drake. Come for me now.”
He thrusts up, finally moving, his hands gripping my hips as he finds reaches his climax. The look of pure ecstasy on his face is beautiful, his blue eyes unfocused, his mouth open in a silent cry.
I collapse on top of him, both of us breathing hard. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close, and for a moment we stay like that, connected and content.
“Thank you,” he says against my hair. “For showing me what you want. For being in control.”
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Anytime, ghost boy.”
When I finally roll off him, I’m surprised to find I’m not as exhausted as I expected. There’s a lingering energy, a need for more. I glance around at the other three men and find Soren already approaching, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
“My turn,” he says. He’s holding several silk scarves in his hands, and his eyebrows lift questioningly. “Up for trying something new, little witch?”
