And they are mine.
“Yes,” I breathe, the word a puff of air. “God, yes. I need you. All of you.”
That’s all the permission they need. It’s a flurry of motion, a symphony of scent and touch. Ridge, limited by his injuries, stays where he is, his hands roaming my body, learning every curve as if for the first time. Kylian and Luka gently maneuver me until I’m lying in the center of the bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to my fevered skin.
They don’t rip my clothes off. They worship them away.
Kylian’s long, elegant fingers make quick work of the buttons on my dress, his knuckles brushing against my sensitive skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He presses open-mouthed kisses to my collarbones, his tongue a velvet rasp.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin. “Our perfect omega.”
Luka kneels by my feet, his meticulous nature turning the simple act of removing my dress into a ritual of reverence. He slides the fabric down my legs, his hands caressing my calves, my ankles. He presses a kiss to the inside of my knee, his touch sending a jolt straight to my clit.
“Every inch of you is a masterpiece, Brylee. We’re going to treat you as such.”
I’m left in nothing but my soaked panties, and the cool air does little to soothe the fire raging inside me. I’m squirming, a desperate, needy sound caught in my throat.
Then Colter is there.
He moves with a silent, predatory grace, settling between my spread legs. He doesn’t touch me yet, just looks. The intensity of his gaze through the mask is almost enough to make me come.
“Colter,” I whimper, lifting my hips in offering.
He finally moves, his large hands gently gripping my thighs. He leans down, and I expect a rough, claiming kiss, but what I get is something so much more devastating. He presses his face against the damp fabric of my panties and inhales deeply, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest. It’s the most intimate, possessive sound I’ve ever heard. He’s smelling my need, my desire, and he’s savoring it.
“Please,” I beg, my hands fisting in the sheets.
With a gentleness that belies his gruff exterior, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly, so slowly, pulls them down. The cool air hits my swollen, slick folds, and I cry out.
And then his mouth is on me.
He doesn’t tease. Hedevours. His tongue is a hot, firm stripe against my clit, and my back bows off the bed. He licks and sucks with a single-minded intensity, his grip on my thighs keeping me anchored to the bed as I writhe and sob. It’s too much and not enough.
Kylian and Luka aren’t idle. Kylian’s mouth closes over one of my nipples, sucking and nipping, while Luka mirrors him on the other side. The dual sensations are exquisite torture.
Ridge’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, rough and commanding. “Look at me, Brylee.”
I force my eyes open, my vision blurry with unshed tears of ecstasy. Ridge’s hand is on his cock, stroking slowly, his eyes burning with a mix of lust and fierce love.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. So beautiful for us.” He looks at the others. “Make her come. I want to see her fall apart.”
That’s all it takes. Colter sucks my clit into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue while Kylian bites down gently on my nipple. The combination is my undoing.
My orgasm crashes over me, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure that rips a scream from my throat. My entire body convulses, and my thighs cramp around Colter’s head as my vision whites out.
I’m still trembling in the aftermath when they pull back. My body is humming, sated for a split second before the heat builds again, even stronger this time. The emptiness is back, a gaping, aching chasm that needs to be filled.
Ridge’s voice is a low growl. “She’s ready. Colter, take her. But make it good.”
Colter rises over me, his body a wall of muscle and heat. He doesn’t say a word as he lines himself up with my entrance, his thick, heavy cock nudging against my swollen folds. When the fuck did he get undressed? Why didn’t I notice?
He looks down at me, his eyes searching mine through the mask. It’s a silent question, a final check for consent.
I answer by wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him down.
“Yes.” I gasp. “Now.”
He surges into me in one long, powerful stroke, and the feeling of being so completely, utterly filled is sheer bliss. He’s huge, a stretching, burning pressure that soothes the ache and ignites a fresh fire. He starts to move in a deep, punishing rhythm that steals my breath.
