The room is warm and softly lit, the golden glow of candles casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The bed is enormous, draped in luxurious linens, and surrounded by the men who have become my world. Ashton leans casually against one of the bedposts, his cocky grin softened by the intensity in his eyes. Sylvian stands nearby, his green gaze tender and unassuming, while Cassius’s pale blue eyes are sharp with focus, as though he’s committing every detail of this moment to memory.
“Our queen,” Oberon says softly as he lays me down on the bed, the reverence in his voice making my heart skip a beat.The others move closer, their attention entirely on me, and I’m overwhelmed by the weight of their devotion.
Oberon steps back just enough to begin unbuttoning his shirt, his movements slow and deliberate. The air in the room grows charged, the anticipation thick enough to taste. Ashton reaches for the straps of my dress, his fingers deft and sure as he pulls them down over my shoulders. The fabric slips away, pooling around me like liquid moonlight.
“You’re breathtaking,” Sylvian murmurs, his voice soft but full of awe. His hands are gentle as they glide over my arms, his touch grounding me even as my pulse races.
Cassius leans in, his lips brushing against my neck in a feather-light kiss. “Our queen,” he whispers, the words a promise as much as an endearment. “And we’re your kings.”
The intensity of their focus is almost too much.
“You’re all staring.”
“Isn’t that the point of the white dress, darling?” Ashton, his hair disheveled from dancing, slides a hand behind my neck and tilts my chin up. His knuckles smell faintly of champagne.
The others murmur agreement, wordless but fierce. Oberon pushes his face into my hair and inhales, then presses his palm hard into my hip, pinning me in place. “It’s the only thing I’ve thought about since the ceremony.”
He means undressing me, not the wedding itself.
I could say something clever, but my lips are already parted, my throat dry. Ashton traces a fingertip down my collarbone, slowly, until the anticipation makes my skin prickle. I feel watched from every angle. Cassius and Sylvian flank me, each one with a hand on my arms, as if holding me up for inspection, or offering me up like prey on an altar.
“Perhaps,” Cassius murmurs, voice velvet, “we should begin by seeing what’s underneath.” He’s unfastening the pearl buttons at my wrist, methodical and patient, while Sylvian is lessrestrained. He finds the zipper in the small of my back and tugs it down in a single, predatory sweep. My skin shudders under the cool air.
The dress crumples to the floor around my ankles. I’m left in white silk, my bra, a slip, panties and nothing else, bare to their hungry gazes. All four are overdressed by comparison, shirts starched, pants tight across their thighs, jackets straining from muscle. I feel obscene and exposed, which is oddly hot.
Ashton grins, teeth flashing, and pops the clasp of my bra with one hand. “It’s not fair you get to wear less, minx.”
“I could fix that,” I say, and reach for his belt. I manage to get it unbuckled before Oberon grabs my hands and holds them behind my back, twisting me so my breasts are mashed against Ashton’s chest. Oberon presses his mouth to my shoulder blade, biting hard enough to leave a mark.
He whispers, “Mine first.” His voice vibrates through my bones.
“You’ll have to share,” Sylvian says, and peels the bra from my arms. He palms my breast, gentle but deliberate, kneading until I moan. Cassius pushes off my slip and runs his fingers up my thigh, nails grazing the sensitive skin just above my knee.
This is how they prefer it now, I’ve realized that after countless sexual encounters. They like when all four of them are around me, orchestrating my attention, passing me between them. It’s overwhelming. Overwhelming and so hot that it’s hard to think about anything else.
Oberon’s hands are everywhere, rough and urgent, and I’m lifted boldly off the floor. He hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. The world swings dizzyingly, and I shriek, but anticipation hums through me. My ass is in the air, panties riding up, giving them a show I know they’re enjoying. I see Sylvian’s surprised, boyish grin from upside down.
“Careful, she’ll get used to being manhandled,” Sylvian says.
“She loves it,” Oberon replies, slapping my thigh. “Don’t you?”
I’m upside down, but I manage a “yes” that’s more a pant than a word. Ashton and Cassius strip off their shirts, tossing them carelessly by the bed. Oberon deposits me on the mattress, face down, and tugs my panties off with his teeth.
I scramble upright, hair in my face, just in time to see all four of them stalking closer, shedding their clothes one by one. Ashton’s cocky smirk is undone by the flush rising on his neck. Sylvian’s hands tremble a little as he pulls his shirt off. Cassius is already hard, the outline of his erection obvious against his navy boxers. Oberon is the first to get naked, his cock heavy and straining.
They surround me on the bed. Oberon and Ashton at my shoulders, Cassius and Sylvian at my legs. I’m caged in, splayed out, the center of their attention.
Ashton climbs on the bed, catching my chin in his hand. “You looked beautiful tonight. But you look even better like this.”
“Really? Naked and desperate?” I fire back, grinning.
“That’s exactly how I like you,” Ashton whispers, and kisses me hard. His tongue forces my mouth open, filling me with his taste. Oberon grabs the back of my head, holding me still, and kisses the side of my throat, just below my ear. He bites there, and the sting of his teeth sends sparks down my spine.
Sylvian pushes my thighs apart and nuzzles the crease between my leg and pelvis, breathing hot on my pussy. “She’s already soaked,” he says, and I can hear the pride in his voice.
“Prove it,” Cassius says, crouching at my side.
Sylvian slides two thick fingers into me, slow at first, then curling and twisting. My hips buck helplessly. He licks up the seam, tongue flat and greedy, and I’m already shaking. Oberon holds my upper body steady while Ashton devours my mouth.Cassius is more reserved. His hands skimming my ribs, tracing the lines of my body, mapping out every inch of me.
