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I take a few quick gasps. “A-almost.”
“Last to break the bond.” Dayton smiles. “Last to join in.”
“Then allow me to exceed your expectations,” Kel murmurs, voice a Winter storm draped over my fevered skin. Keldarion leans down over the curve of my neck where Ezryn pants and kisses me so softly I could cry.
Then he walks around the bed, pale and sculpted, his cock already diamond hard and so, so long. He is magnificent, parading around for my viewing; his thick, veined shaft bobs as he moves, never freeing me from the icy precision of his stare.
“You’ve all been waiting for me,” he says. “So obedient. So eager.”
He climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and with a single sure hand, he catches Caspian by the back of the neck. Caspian jolts, eyes going wide with a heady mix of fear and anticipation. Keldarion drags Cas’s mouth to his, and their lips meet in a clash of teeth and breath.
“Look at you,” Keldarion says, knuckles brushing over the bared skin of Caspian’s thigh, where the skirt has ridden scandalously high. “You’re going to let me fuck you again in this adorable outfit?”
Caspian shivers, helpless to say anything at all, hips straining against Farron’s with another rolling thrust.
“If you want,” Caspian pants, trying to keep his composure in the face of Keldarion’s relentless focus. I don’t often see the Prince of Thorns without a witty reply.
“I do,” Keldarion says, and with one decisive motion, he lifts the short skirt to reveal Caspian’s ass. “So pretty.”
Keldarion spits in his hand and strokes himself, then lines up and pushes inside. Caspian lets out a trembling gasp, not quite a sob, not quite a moan. It’s a noise I recognize: the surrender to a sensation so all-consuming, it robs one of all sense.
Keldarion’s rhythm is brutal, each thrust landing inside Caspian with a certainty that rattles Farron beneath him and sets the whole bed quaking. Farron, trembling, almost collapses under the fresh onslaught, his own moans muffled where his lips graze the sheets.
Dayton, still sheathed in me, keeps his hand tangled in my hair. The sweat from our bodies mingles. I look up and see we are all moving in a chain: Dayton inside me, Farron bucked by Caspian’s cock, Caspian bracketed between Farron and Keldarion, and Ezryn behind me.
All of us connected.
Our bond rears up, molten and inexorable, dragging my attention inward. I feel the pulse at the root of my center but also through every link on this chain—Keldarion’s ice bursting through Caspian’s shadows, which tremble into Farron’s wildfire, which torches up Dayton, already a sun in supernova, mingling with my own magic, which floods into Ezryn.
It’s like the very air is alight.
Ezryn sighs against my shoulder, and in the near-feral rhythm, he says, “You’re not coming yet.” His voice is taut as stretched steel. “Not until I say so. Understood?” He slaps my ass again—harder—knowing just how to make me moan.
“Yes,” I stammer, though every fragment of me blisters for release.
Dayton nips my lip, tasting my helplessness, and buries his cock as deep as he can. “I could do this forever,” he says, a rumbling laughter saturating each word. His fingers map fire trails up my back before latching on to my hair and yanking—gods, yes, the spark, the ache, the need—until I’m bent for Ezryn’s next punishing thrust.
“Rose, you’re so full of us you’ll be leaking for days,” Ezryn says.
The image breaks my mind open, and I whimper, “Don’t stop, Ezryn, please.”
He growls in my ear, “You think you’ve ever been used before? This is what it means to be ours, Rosalina. Chosen by all of us.”
On the other side, the rhythm only gets filthier. Keldarion sets the tempo, devouring Caspian’s whimpers, his white-knuckled grip digging bruises into Cas’s hips. Caspian is lost entirely, face glazed and mouth slack as he’s saddled between both Farron and Keldarion’s fury.
Farron, voice gone hoarse, brays out, “Fuck, Cas, you’re so good. Gods, take me—” He bites down on Dayton’s shoulder.
Dayton kisses my temple, fist tight in my curls. “Look what you’ve made,” he whispers reverently. “The most perfect, mess. Our mess.”
Caspian’s laughter sparks through the ruin of his moans, dark and wild. “I’ll break you all. I promise, I’ll outlast every fucking one of—” He doesn’t finish before Keldarion rails him with a particularly brutal thrust, and Cas’s eyes roll back, hands clawing the sheets.
“You want to be broken, Cas,” Keldarion commands.
Keldarion uses Caspian’s hips as leverage, fucking him into Farron with an abandon I’ve never seen, and Ezryn’s thrusts sync to the new tempo, my body a vessel for this gorgeous tangle of longing and want.
Sweat drips from all of us, beading down the line of Dayton’s shoulder, pooling in the small of Farron’s back, streaming between my breasts as I writhe. The sheet is a disaster, soaked with oil and my desire. The air tastes like love and home and the tartness of my own release, now running in hot rivulets down Dayton’s cock.
But even amid the tidal wave of sensation, I notice the smaller things: Caspian’s teeth catching on Farron’s ear, the tremor in Ezryn’s hand as he cradles my breasts, the little whimpers Dayton gives as Farron fills him, the way Keldarion bites his lower lip and tries—fails—to hold back a torrent of curses that is actually a rambling of love. All of us are coming undone at the seams, desperate to reach some mutual detonation point.
