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There’s no pain. Only euphoria and the shivering bond, begging to be completed.
Snarling victory, I take Bishop’s throat.
His blood hits like peach syrup.
As Bishop snaps his hips, the mate bond sparkles.
Four bright stars swirl around my heart.
My mates are wild, ecstatic, rabid, elated, awed, and so jackrabbit freaking horny, I come all over Bish’s pulsing knot.
Then four sets of hands haul me back to bed, all lips and teeth and a full-pack purr that buzzes my gamma bones.
Beast mode Bish fucks me through a never-ending orgasm.
Dutch steals kisses.
Reese sucks my nipples.
And Jin is everywhere, giving me exactly what I need, whether a rub at my clit, a lick at my throat, or a hoarse, melting reminder of who I am. “Marisol.”
This is so much better than my vision board.
When Bish’s is finally spent, he lingers on top of me, tonguing and tending my pack’s overlapping bites.
I puddle on the sheets like gas station spaghetti.
Jin chuckles. “You warmed up?”
“Can’t you hear this pussy purring?” Bishop licks up my throat, dragging his teeth to my ear. “I did that.”
I shiver, cramp, and groan.
Do I want a month-long nap?
Or fifty more rounds of god-tier dicking down?
“Heat’s no joke.” Raspy with thirst, Reese rubs past my belly button, working down to my slicked mound. “We’re gonna have to double team.”
“Double. Triple. Whatever.” Dutch wiggles between our tangled bodies. “Just lose all these legs. I can’t reach my lemon cake.”
He shoves under Bish and Jin, a bloodhound seeking my inner thigh.
Gleeful need tingles through the bond.
My pussy perks.
Definitely fifty more rounds.
I work my thighs around Dutch’s shoulders and snag an armful of Jin. “I want five years of make-up orgasms.”
“Only five?” Jin purrs.
“To start.”
He licks his teeth. “Let’s begin.”
Adored by their tongues and hands and bodies, I melt into the sheets.
