Page 74 of Monster Queen Rising

"Be quiet," he says, kind about it, and takes my shirt up and off.

Then the others move in. Crull's palms settle at my hips and draw my back against the heat of his chest. Harek's mouth finds his own mark at the side of my throat. Daron's quick at my temple. Dean at the foot of the bed with his eyes dark and his patience showing. Fen on the corner with his hand closed warm around my ankle.

My bra goes somewhere. My jeans go somewhere else. Six sets of hands and I stop being able to track whose are where, which I'd find alarming in any other life and which here just makes me laugh — low, until Thaw's mouth closes on my nipple and turns the laugh into something else.

Crull lifts me like I weigh nothing and lays me in the middle of the bed, where the blankets are already turned back by a hand I never saw move.

"Who did the blankets?"

"Harek," three of them say at once.

"I like a neat bed," Harek says, unbothered, and puts his mouth back on my throat.

Thaw braces over me first.

He goes down my body and he doesn't hurry, because he never hurries when he's leading. By the time he settles between my thighs I'm already soaked and he takes his time anyway — his tongue flat and broad through my folds first, then narrow and hard on my clit, and his eyes come up the line of my body to watch my face while he does it.

Two thick fingers push into me and curl.

"Thaw—"

"I've got you." He doesn't lift his mouth. The words go straight into me. The rumble starts low in his chest and I feel it through his tongue, and I break on it — hard, my back off the bed, the mark at my shoulder going bright, my thighs closing on his head.

He pins them open and doesn't let up until I'm shaking and shoving at him.

"Okay — okay —"

"One more."

"Thaw, I will not survive the list —"

"One more."

He does it again with three fingers and his mouth, dragging it out of me until I'm boneless and swearing at the ceiling.

Only then does he come up over me — mouth wet, gold eyes blown — and push into me in one long stroke.

He fucks me deep and unhurried, and I come a third time around him with my nails down his back, and only then does he let himself go, slow and complete, his hand fisted in the pillow beside my head.

Then he kisses me and moves to my side, his hand flat on my stomach like he's leaving it there on purpose.

"Three," Daron says from somewhere. "She's at three and we haven't even —"

"Daron."

"I'm keeping count."

"Do not keep count."

"Too late."

Crull comes up next and I lose whatever Daron says after that.

He rolls me onto my side and fits himself against my back, and when he pushes into me I have to breathe around it — enormous, more than I think I can take and then taking it, working me open one inch at a time until he's seated and I'm full to the back of my throat.

Daron's at my front with his hand between my legs, working my clit in tight circles while Crull moves in me. Harek lays a palm flat on Crull's shoulder and grounds us both, and the bonds answer each other so loud I can't tell whose heat is whose.

I come on Crull with Daron's fingers at the peak of it, clenched so tight around him he chokes, and he groans into my neck and doesn't stop.