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I’m not the only one who’s on edge either.
With a gasp, Sable wrenches her lips away from Archer’s. Her cheeks are flushed, her blue eyes glassy, and the silken strands of her blonde hair are a mess.
She already looks thoroughly fucked, and we haven’t even gotten there yet.
“More!” The word comes out as something between a whimper and a cry. “I need more. I need…”
“We know what you need, little wolf.” Ridge’s voice is thick with heat.
I catch her gaze, letting the promise ring through my voice. “We’ve got you.”
31
Sable
We’ve got you.
God, I hope that’s true. Because I feel like I’m on the verge of floating away, on the precipice of bursting into a million sparks and dissipating in the air.
I have never felt anything like this, not even in the times when I’ve kissed or touched these men before. This is something altogether different, and I wonder if it’s the wolf inside me rising to the surface.
It definitely feels wild, whatever it is. Unrestrained. Uninhibited.
Powerful.
Dare’s brown eyes burn as he gazes at me, the flecks of gold in his irises glittering like stars. He looks wild too, masculine and strong, and I can feel his cock pulse against my hand. It’s so big I can’t even get my fingers all the way around it, but for some reason, that doesn’t scare me. It’s like my body knows it can take him, knows it was born to fit him.
I’ve never had sex before. I’ve barely even gotten to second base before, and if I were with any other men, alarm bells would be ringing in my head, telling me that all of this is too fast, too soon.
There’s nothing like that in my mind right now though.
The only mantra running through my head is a single word.
More.
Their hands on me, their mouths on mine, their calloused fingers exploring my body—it’s incredible. The most overwhelming thing I’ve ever experienced.
But it’s still not enough.
There’s an ache deep in my belly, an emptiness, a yearning. A need for something I can barely articulate but desperately crave.
“Please,” I whisper, trying to put everything I’m feeling into that one word. There’s no way I manage it—I’m feeling too damn much for an entire novel’s worth of words to convey—but I think I get across enough.
Trystan makes a noise low in his throat, and the next thing I know, I?
??m swept up into his arms, cradled against his chest. I lose my contact with the other men, but it’s okay. I can still feel them all around me, and when Trystan turns to stride down the hall toward the bedroom, they’re right there with us.
They’re not leaving.
None of them.
Just like I asked.
The realization sends a wave of giddy happiness and desire through me, and I cling tighter to Trystan’s neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder and biting down lightly on the flesh there, tasting the salty warmth of his skin.
“Oh, fuck.”
His footsteps falter slightly, and his body goes rigid against mine as he reacts to my touch.
