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When I wake up,my body is sore in places I never knew could ache. The sheets are twisted around us, damp with the residue of our depravity. But I smirk at the thought.
“Morning,” Alistair’s voice rumbles against my ear, his breath a warm caress on my skin. His eyes are bright with that same possessive glint from last night.
“Is it?” My voice comes out husky, sleep still clinging to me. I try to stretch, but the tangle of limbs traps me.
“Yep.” Ben’s voice cuts through the haze, gaze peering at me over the edge of the bed. “You slept like the dead.”
“Fuck, I’m starving,” I groan, realising the hunger gnawing at my insides isn’t just for food.
“Let’s feed you then,” Alistair declares, untangling from the bed with the grace of a predator.
I sit up, watching as they move around the room, their naked bodies hard and gorgeous. It’s raw, the way they look at me, like I’m the only thing that matters.
“Shower first,” Damien states firmly, stepping closer. His fingers trail down my arm, sending shivers racing across my flesh.
“Are we all going to fit?” I joke, but the idea sends a rush of anticipation through me.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Charlie grins devilishly, already heading towards the en-suite bathroom.
Ben helps me up, his touch gentle. “We’ll make it work.”
We stumble into the bathroom, a mess of limbs and laughter, turning the water on until it steams up the mirror. They wash me with care that contradicts the hunger in their eyes, hands roaming over every inch of my body.
“Jesus, Ever, you’re fucking beautiful,” Alistair murmurs, his fingers sliding between my thighs.
“Enough talking,” I pant, pulling them closer. “Just fuck me again.”
One by one, they press me against the cold tiles, filling me up and taking me under the hot spray. It’s not gentle, it’s not sweet—it’s desperate and consuming and everything I crave.
They don’t relent. Our movements become frantic, teeth nipping at skin, hands gripping harder, the echo of our moans bouncing off the tiles. Damien takes my mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing my gasps as Ben takes me from behind, his hands splayed across my hips, holding me steady.
Charlie’s fingers find my clit, circling with a relentless pressure that causes my knees to buckle. Alistair is everywhere and nowhere all at once, his presence like a shadow that stokes the flames higher. I fall apart under their touch, splintering into pieces of pure sensation that scatter through the steam.
“Fuck,” I choke out between ragged breaths as another climax tears through me, stripping away any remaining semblance of control.
They don’t stop. Not until every one of us is trembling with exhaustion and utterly sated. Only then do we turn off the water and step out of the shower, bodies glistening and slick.
Alistair wraps a towel around my body while Damien rubs another over my hair, their gestures tender now, caring—so at odds with the carnage we’d just unleashed upon each other.
“We’ve got you,” Charlie murmurs.
I lean into Ben’s chest, feeling his heart thunder against mine. “I know,” I whisper back, letting myself be enveloped by their warmth.
“Let’s eat,” Damien finally says, breaking the quiet.
“Please,” I murmur, feeling that pull in my chest—the one that says this is right. This is where I belong. With them. Always.
18
EVER
The silence in the living room feels heavy like a blanket smothering all of us. I sit there, staring at the four men who’ve been both my torment and my fascination over the last few weeks. Leaning forward, I place the sandwich plate down on the coffee table, my mood serious. In the quiet, I find my voice steady but curious.
“I want to know. What haunts you? I can’t be everything for you without knowing.”
Alistair leans back, the leather of the couch creaking under him. He stares at me with that royal glare that is intense and authoritative, but for once, they’re raw and real. “You know a little of my demons, Ever. There isn’t much more to know. My father was more of a monster than a man. His death left me a title, wealth and nightmares that cling like cobwebs.”
Next to him, Damien shifts, his eyes reflecting some inner turmoil. The light catches on his jet-black hair as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “We had all the money we could ever need, but it couldn’t buy us freedom from our own secrets. I had to learn everyone’s moves and always stay one step ahead. It’s exhausting, playing the game non-stop. That, on top of beingborn the way I was, more dark than light, has left me with a battered soul.”
