The afternoon turns playful. Music fills the living room. Beckett pulls me up to dance, spinning me until I’m dizzy. Zane joins in, dramatic and ridiculous. Landon claps offbeat. Dominic films it, shaking his head fondly. Ryker watches from the doorway, eyes dark and full, and when I tug him forward, he dances with me like it’s something sacred.
Dinner is homemade and chaotic. Someone burns the garlic bread. Someone else forgets the salt. It doesn’t matter. There’s wine and laughter and crumbs on the counter.
Then the lights dim.
A cake appears—slightly crooked, candles glowing. Five flames. One wish.
I close my eyes.
I don’t wish for more.
After, when the night settles and the house grows quiet, Landon slips his fingers through mine. “There’s one more thing.”
They don’t rush me. They never do. They lead me down the hall, hands brushing, their presence warm and intentional. The bedroom glows—candles, clean sheets, the air humming with something unspoken.
My heart swells.
“This,” Beckett says, gesturing around, “is for you.”
“For us,” Dominic adds.
Ryker presses a kiss to my knuckles. Zane smiles like he already knows how the night will end.
Landon’s hands trail over every part of me he can reach. Even fully clothed, I can feel Landon’s touch like a brand.
Claiming. Possessive. Hungry.
They glide over my hips, my outer thighs, and then my breasts, which feel unbearably heavy.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes in my ear, punctuating those words with a kiss to the shell of it.
My body turns into one giant goose bump as a tsunami of need blazes through me. The sensation isn’t icy, like water would be. No, it’s an inferno, and I become nothing but blistering heat that sizzles and burns.
A new pair of hands joins the first, and I stare into Dom’s arresting emerald eyes.
“Perfect,” he agrees, tapping my chin up and claiming my lips. His tongue tentatively pokes at the seam of my lips, and I don’t hesitate before opening for him, a moan rising, then catching in my throat.
Landon’s hands move to the hem of my shirt, and Dom breaks the kiss so they can pull it off of me. Before pesky self-consciousness can sink in—though there’s been less and less of that as of late—my bra comes next, leaving me bare.
Dom’s hands travel to my breasts, groping them, his thumbs teasing over my peaked nipples.
Landon, meanwhile, places a hand on my throat, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp, and turns my head toward his. He kisses me hungrily, each stroke of his tongue against mine declaring ownership.
“Fuck, this is hot,” Zane whispers. I peel my eyes open to see him watching us from the side of the room, his cock straining against his basketball shorts. When his gaze collides with mine, liquid heat enters those dark depths, mingling with the mischief already present there. He winks and then moves backward, never taking his eyes off me, until he can collapse in an armchair. “So fucking hot.” He slides his dick out of his shorts and palms it at the base.
My pussy throbs.
Movement in my periphery draws my gaze away from Zane to see Beckett stepping forward. His eyes seem especially bright tonight—one a deep forest green, like the trees outside doused in night, and the other a woodsy brown highlighted with flecks of gold. His shirt is already off, and I greedily drink in his impressive abs and the trail of brown hair leading to the waistband of his jeans.
At some point, I must’ve stopped kissing Landon, or maybe he pulled away from me. Either way, when he chuckles, the noise vibrates through me, though his lips no longer touch my own. I whip my eyes to his molten silver ones.
“Go to him,” he instructs, the low growl reverberating through me.
I do almost mechanically, turning toward Beckett and tentatively tracing a finger down his chest. He shudders, his long lashes fluttering against my cheek, before forcing his eyes back open and spearing me with a look so full of adoration and love, I want to weep.
No one has ever loved me as much as these men.
No one ever will.
