He slowly slides my underwear down, not breaking eye contact, pressing soft kisses on my inner thigh before his mouth claims me. My head falls back, lifting toward the sky, a soft, desperate sound slipping free as if he’s pulling it from my very core.
I glance down at him, caught in the sun’s glow, and notice the light in his hair—so close to his brother’s. I blink and a flicker of unease sparks, but it’s fleeting, desire smothering it before it can fully form. His mouth moves over me and my body tips toward him instinctively, thoughts dissolving into sensation.
My breath hitches, chest rising and falling in uneven waves. A burning heat coils inside me, tight and insistent, and I want to stop time—to sink into this, to let the world vanish until only this moment exists.
I try to think, to hold onto something solid, but everything he does scatters me—his hands on my breasts, warm and sure, a feather-soft touch like he’s absorbing my very being; his mouth drawing me higher, deeper, until it feels like he’s everywhere at once, inside every breath, every tremor.
How does he do that?
My head tips back on instinct, and a quiet, helpless sound escapes before I can stop it. It’s a surrender I didn’t know I was ready to give.It’s almost too good, too much.
“I’m—oh my God.” The words leave me on a whimper.
“Tell us what you need, Princess.” Wesley hums against me, low, insistent, relentless in the way he claims me.
My body answers him on its own, every nerve lit, every sense ablaze. I can’t form a single coherent thought as his hand finds me again, his touch syncing with his mouth in a way that steals the strength from my limbs.
“Wesley,” I breathe, and the word is a shiver, a surrender. A promise.
Then a voice murmurs against my chest, soft and teasing, brushing my skin like a caress.
“Aww, how come he gets all the credit?”
My eyes snap open. The voice isn’t Wesley’s. It slides against my skin like silk, teasing,familiar.
Confusion tangles with longing and something more—something dangerous—and I struggle to lift myself onto my elbows.
They’re both there—Wesley lying with his face buried between my thighs, devotion written in every movement of his mouth.Emmett beside me, a slow, teasing smile as he drags his fingers up my ribs before pressing his mouth to mine.
It should feel wrong, but itdoesn’t. It feels inevitable. Like the truth has finally stepped into the sun.
Emmett’s tongue swipes across my lips and I part for him, completely intoxicated.
My heartbeat stutters. Every inch of me is alive, confusion tangled with want, guilt folding into something vulnerable and unsound.
Wesley doesn’t stop—his hands anchor me, steady, certain—while Emmett’s mouth finds my collarbone, tracing where the other left off. I’m trembling under the onslaught—every touch, every kiss, every brush of fingers perfectly aligned, devastating in their harmony.
My body arches, caught between them, a dizzying mix of surrender and disbelief.
The world tilts with a burst of light as a tide crashes over me. I am nothing but the pounding of my pulse—louder, harder, consuming.
Thump. Thump.Thump.
“Sadie.” Emmett’s voice is distant, dreamlike, even though he’s right there. “Open your eyes,” he whispers.
I obey.
The blanket, the sweet scent of wildflowers, the Morrow brothers—all vanish.
My room is quiet. The morning sun filters through the curtains. I’m alone, sweaty, tangled in my sheets.
It was all a dream.
The pounding continues—but this time from the other side of the door. Groaning, I drag my hands down my face and roll to my side. The clock on my nightstand stares back at me: 5:30 a.m.Ugh.
“Sadie, wake up!” Emmett’s voice carries through the door, rough with sleep, unmistakablyreal.
My pulse trips.
