Page 56 of Rook

“Please,” I whisper, the single word laced with the intensity of my need.

“Please what, Ais?” Gunnar taunts, his hot breath on my slick skin sending shivers down my spine. “Tell us what you need.”

“More,” I breathe out, my voice hitching as Luka pinches my nipple just right, a perfect counterpoint to the relentless assault of Gunnar’s tongue.

“Fuck, she’s close,” Luka murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, his hot breath making me quiver.

“Then let’s give her what she wants,” Gunnar replies, his voice dark with lust.

Their synchrony is devastating, overwhelming, and as the pleasure mounts, I cling to them, lost in the storm of my own heat, barreling headlong into the abyss of ecstasy they offer.

I’m coming.

I’m coming against my mate’s mouth, and Gunnar is rumbling out a feral alpha purr as the room fills with our mingled scents. Luka grasps my breasts like the two of them own me completely, and I thrust my hips against Gunnar’s hips as slick gushes against his lips.

There’s no ceremony between standing here and getting to the bed.

Just…desperation.

There’s a wild urgency in the air, a primal dance of need and desire as my dress is yanked down and discarded onto the floor. The evening air brushes against my heated skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of where fabric once clung.

We collapse onto the bed, limbs entangled, a mess of raw hunger. Gunnar’s dominance surges as Luka tries to assert himself, a low growl emanating from Gunnar’s throat that ricochets through the room. “Eat her out, Luka,” he commands, his voice a guttural command that brooks no argument.

Luka moves without hesitation, his head dipping between my thighs, his tongue finding me with an eagerness that is both relief and torment. I gasp, hands grasping for anything to ground me as the pleasure threatens to sweep me away, hips lifting off the bed.

“Your mouth,” Gunnar demands, positioning himself above me, his erection a hard line against my lips. I open for him, the taste of him—musky and male—filling my senses as he slides into the warmth of my mouth.

I suck, drawing him deeper, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his chest. It’s a raw sound, filled with the weeks of pent-up longing, the heavy weight of our complicated history. His hips move with a steady rhythm, and I lose myself to the dual sensations, Luka’s mouth on me, Gunnar in my mouth—both giving and receiving, caught in a cycle of insatiable desire.

“Fuck, Aisling,” Luka groans, his words muffled against me, his fingers digging into my flesh as he works me with his mouth, pushing me closer to that edge.

“Good girl,” Gunnar praises, his voice strained, and I feel a shiver of satisfaction at the approval in his tone. They want me—it’s undeniable—and in this tangled mess of bodies and passion, I forget everything but the need to be consumed by them, to consume them in turn.

Caught between two alphas, each intent on staking their claim, I’m a conduit for their desire, a vessel for their need.

“Move,” Gunnar suddenly grunts to Luka, his voice commanding.

I feel a brief loss of warmth as Luka withdraws, and then Gunnar’s hands are on me, flipping me with an ease that speaks of his inhuman strength. I’m on my stomach now, the plushness of the bed beneath me, and Gunnar is there, aligning himself at my entrance. The heat from his body radiates onto my skin, his presence enormous and unavoidable. He’s an alpha in every sense—the power, the intensity, the raw sexuality that emanates from him.

“Get in front,” he instructs Luka, voice thick with lust.

This…this is how it should have been the first time.

Gunnar calling the shots.

My alpha.

Luka complies, moving to kneel by my head, his eyes locked onto mine. There’s a silent question in his gaze, a searching for permission or perhaps forgiveness for earlier transgressions. In this moment, stripped down to nothing but primal need, I give him what he seeks, nodding slightly, granting him absolution in our shared hunger.

Gunnar doesn’t wait; he pushes inside me in one smooth, powerful thrust, filling me completely. A gasp rips from my throat, not just from the sheer pleasure-pain of his size but also from the overwhelming sensation of rightness. Despite everything, this is where I belong—between these two alphas, claimed and cherished.

“Look at her,” Gunnar commands Luka. “She’s ours.”

The word sends a thrill through me, a reminder of the bond we share, however fraught it might be. And as Gunnar starts to move, each stroke driving deeper, the friction building a fire within me, I know that I am irrevocably tied to these men, to their fates, to their desires.

My mouth opens in a pleasured sob, and Luka is here to fill it, his cock sliding over my tongue and deep into my throat.

I’m lost in a whirlwind of sensation, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Gunnar’s thrusts are relentless, each one sending a jolt of raw need coursing through me. Luka matches his rhythm, his hips rolling forward as he fucks my mouth.

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