Deacon's whisper still burned in her ears, his voice a spark that had set her body aflame. Even as she gasped, quivering from the first shattering wave, Thorne's lips lingered where no one else had been, tongue and teeth orchestrating a rhythm that left her trembling. When he finally pulled back, breath hot against her skin, she felt... empty, yet aching for more, the first taste of surrender curling through her like smoke.
She didn't move, didn't speak. Her body had learned to listen before her mind could catch up. Every pulse, every quiver of muscle, was a language she had never known but now understood perfectly. The scent of Deacon's heat still clung to her, making her knees weak, but another presence pressed against her awareness. Rian.
Thorne's lips lifted from her core, and he chuckled low, a deep rumble that vibrated through her chest. "Good girl," he murmured, voice rough, eyes dark with hunger and pride. His hands cupped her sides, guiding her gently as he moved up the bed to hover over her, brushing his mouth to hers in a deep, claiming kiss. Her lips parted, welcoming, knees trembling, every nerve alive. She felt his heat press against her, the weight of him grounding her even as her pulse raced, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the press of his chest and the taste of him on her lips.
Rian slid into Thorne's place almost silently, eyes dark with hunger, wolf pressing at his chest as he knelt beside her. A whisper of cool air danced across her clit, making her shiver violently, hips tilting instinctively toward him. Before she could protest—or even think—strong hands wrapped around her shoulder and wrist, tugging her gently but firmly up the bed so she wasn't dangling, grounding her against his chest.
Her left thigh lifted without conscious thought, draping over his shoulder, and Rian's mouth found her in a way that stole her breath. Warm, wet, insistent, he teased, licked, and nipped, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure to coil through her. Her hands gripped the sheets, back arching, chest heaving as her first shudder hit, body trembling violently against him. Every gasp, every moan spilled into the room, carrying her scent to the others like a siren call, and Rian's growl of need pressed her further into the edge of her own desire.
Deacon's chest rose and fell rapidly at the edge of the bed, eyes dark with need, cock straining under the fabric of his pants. He groaned low, realizing he couldn't wait, and with a muttered curse, stepped away for a quick cold shower, leaving the others to take their turn.
From the other side, Loran moved, hands sliding under her arms to pull her fully onto the bed, pressing her closer to him. His lips captured hers in a slow, deliberate kiss, claiming without force, while Thorne held her belly down gently, whispering soft, sweet words into her ear to keep her writhing under control. Sena's breath hitched, hips twitching involuntarily as Loran's hands traced the lines of her back and sides, grounding her even as Rian's lingering ministrations left tingling sparks along her thighs. Her body was a storm, alive and aching for more, every nerve ending singing with need and surrender.
Kael slid in beside Loran, his fingers tracing delicate circles along her clit, gentle but insistent, teasing every nerve until her hips jerked instinctively. His lips grazed the sensitive skin, nibbling softly, drawing soft, whimpering gasps from her throat. Each tug, each vibration of his fingers and the low, guttural growl escaping him pushed her closer and closer, building a delicious tension that made her body coil like a spring.
Sena's back arched, hands clutching the sheets, breath hitching, chest rising and falling in shallow, frantic gasps. Every nerve screamed with need, every inch of her alive to him, and then—sudden, shattering—a wave of orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling, knees weak, utterly undone. Her scent swirled around him, rich and intoxicating, and Kael groaned into the space between them, pressing her closer, letting the pleasure hang and pulse, riding the aftershocks with her.
Loran's hands slid under her hips, lifting her with steady, commanding strength until she straddled his face, heat and anticipation coiling between them. His lips and tongue found her, tracing and teasing, drawing fresh, desperate moans from her lips. Her hands tangled in his hair, rocking forward and back as waves of pleasure shivered through her. Every thrust of his tongue, every press of his mouth against her, sent sparks crawling along her nerves, her body responding with instinctive urgency.
Thorne's hands never left her, cupping and sucking her breasts with a feral hunger, his growls vibrating through her chest as he drove her body to another shuddering climax. Each brother's touch, scent, and presence layered over the others, a symphony of desire she couldn't resist. Her mind felt stripped bare, leaving only her body and the overwhelming, delicious heat that consumed every thought.
Sena's breath hitched violently, chest heaving, muscles trembling, but it wasn't enough. Her body screamed for more, a desperate, aching need that no single touch could satisfy. Every nerve ending blazed as she writhed, hips bucking, scent thick and raw, calling to them without words. Her mind had long since surrendered, leaving only a body hungry for pleasure, insatiable and demanding. She needed them all—now—every touch, every tongue, every hand, every growl, pressing her higher and higher toward a storm she could no longer contain.
Deacon stepped out of the cold shower, water still beading along his skin, chest rising and falling with controlled, heavy breaths. His eyes fell on Sena, sprawled across the bed, quivering and glistening, every nerve alive, every inch of her bare body claiming his attention. Just one look, dark and possessive, and the others couldn't take it. Rian, Thorne, Loran, and Kael exchanged sharp, frustrated growls and muttered curses before retreating silently, leaving the two of them alone in the red-tinged glow of the blood moon. The door clicked shut, and the room fell into a heavy, expectant silence—just the two of them, the air thick with heat and unspoken need.
Deacon's hands gripped her waist as he pressed her flush against his bare chest, fingers tangling in her hair as his tongue worked relentlessly at her clit. Sena gasped and arched, hips bucking instinctively, but it wasn't enough. She whimpered, voice thick with need. "Please... more..."
He pushed deeper with his tongue, sliding as far as he could, every motion a delicious torment. Her body jolted with shock at first—the intensity raw, almost too much—but then she welcomed it, quivering and trembling, needing him, every nerve singing with fire. She cried out as he added his fingers, slick and insistent, curling and thrusting in rhythm with the pressure of his mouth, driving her higher than she'd ever been. Pain and pleasure coiled together, sharp, electric, and utterly consuming.
Finally, Deacon took control, rolling backward until he lay flat, and without hesitation, Sena straddled him. She ground herself against his bare, aching length, hips rocking, breath coming in ragged gasps, every movement drawing fresh, shattering waves from her. Her hands pressed against his chest for balance, scent thick in the air, every moan and shiver a surrender to the heat between them. She rode him, hips bucking, screaming with release after release, utterly consumed by the sensation, but he did not penetrate—each orgasm built on the friction, the grinding, the exquisite, unrelenting pleasure he coaxed from her body.
Finally spent, shaking, and utterly surrendered, she collapsed onto his chest, unconscious, body slick and quivering. Deacon held her close, chest pressing into hers, his own breathing heavy but steady, every heartbeat a dark, possessive echo of the fire they had unleashed together.