Page 111 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“Now you,” Logan commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Chapter 22

My hands trembled as I pulled my t-shirt over my head, suddenly aware of how pathetically eager I must seem. How transparent my desperation. I was acutely conscious of how I must look in comparison—smaller, paler, nowhere near as muscled or defined. But the hunger in their eyes as they watched made me feel beautiful.

“Perfect,” Cade murmured, and for one heartbreaking moment, I almost believed him.

I moved toward him first, drawn like a moth to a flame. His arms opened automatically, welcoming me into his space as I straddled his lap. I framed his face with my hands, studying every detail—the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the perfect arch of his brows, the subtle curve of his lips. Memorizing him.

“Finn?” he questioned, clearly sensing something different in my touch.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Instead, I kissed him with everything I had, pouring years of longing and a month of false hope into the contact. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was desperate, almost violent in its intensity, my teeth catching his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, my hands fisting in his hair to hold him exactly where I wanted him.

I felt his surprise in the momentary stiffening of his body, heard his low growl of approval as he responded, matching my fervor with his own. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, pulling me tighter against him, the evidence of his desire pressing against me.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I saw his eyes had shifted completely to silver—his wolf fully present, watching me through human eyes. A month ago, that would have meant an immediate end to our activities, the brothers too afraid of losing control to continue. Now, I watched as Cade didn’t even try to master himself, letting me see the beast that wanted me.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice barely recognizable through the growl that accompanied it.

“I just wanted to,” I lied, already turning toward Logan, who had moved closer during our kiss, his own eyes glinting amber in the fading light.

Logan didn’t wait for me to go to him. He pulled me from Cade’s lap with enough force to make me gasp, one hand tangling in my hair to yank my head back, exposing my throat. “My turn,” he growled, before claiming my mouth with the same possessive hunger that characterized everything he did.

Where Cade was controlled heat, Logan was raw power. His kiss consumed me, demanded everything, left no room for thought or hesitation. I surrendered to it completely, clinging to his massive shoulders as my knees threatened to give out. His tongue invaded my mouth, claiming every corner, while his hands roamed my body with bruising intensity.

I tasted salt and realized I was crying, silent tears tracking down my cheeks even as I kissed him back with desperate intensity. Logan noticed, breaking the kiss to look at me with a mixture of concern and arousal.

“Finn—” he started, but I shook my head, already reaching for Keir.

“Please,” I whispered, the word carrying all the desperation I couldn’t express. “Please.”

Keir understood, or thought he did. He pulled me into his arms, his kiss gentler than the others but no less thorough. His hands cradled my face with tender care, thumbs brushing away tears even as his tongue explored my mouth. The gentleness almost broke me—it would have been easier if they were all rough, all demanding. This softness in the midst of passion was a cruel reminder of what I thought we’d been building this past month.

I felt hollow and full at the same time, devastated and elated. This was everything I’d ever wanted and nothing I could keep. The contradiction tore at me, made me reckless, desperate to feel everything I could in these last moments.

When Keir finally released me, I looked at all three of them, these magnificent creatures who had consumed my world for the past month. If this was my last night with them, I wanted to memorize every inch, every curve, every plane of their bodies.

“Lie down,” I said to Cade, surprising myself with the command in my voice. “Please. I want to… I need to…”

Understanding flickered in his eyes. He stretched out on the sectional, his powerful body on display in that perfect northern light. Logan and Keir exchanged glances but followed my lead, positioning themselves on either side of the sofa, giving me access to all three of them.

I started with Cade, straddling his thighs but not touching him yet, just drinking in the sight of him. The strong column of his throat, the broad expanse of his chest, the ridges of muscle that tapered down to narrow hips. A work of art more perfect than anything I could ever create.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them. “All of you.”

Then I leaned down, pressing my lips to Cade’s forehead, his eyelids, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. I traced the line of his jaw with soft kisses, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against my lips. When I reached his mouth, I hovered there, our breath mingling.

“Finn,” he murmured, his hands coming to rest lightly on my hips, not directing, just connecting.

I silenced him with a kiss, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the contact. I love you. I’ll miss you. I wish things were different. When I finally pulled away, I continued my journey downward, lips exploring the strong column of his throat, the hollow between his collarbones, the firm muscle of his chest.

I took my time, tasting his skin, memorizing the scent of him—cedar and ocean and something uniquely Cade. My hands explored alongside my mouth, fingers tracing the contours of muscle, the scattered scars from years of protecting his pack, the places where he was sensitive and responsive.

When I reached his nipple, I circled it with my tongue, feeling it harden beneath my touch. The sound he made—a low, rumbling groan that seemed to vibrate through his entire body—sent heat pooling low in my belly. I continued downward, tracing the ridges of his abdomen with my tongue, dipping into his navel, following the trail of hair that led to where his cock lay hard and heavy against his stomach.

I glanced up, meeting his eyes—now fully silver, his wolf watching me through human features. The intensity of his gaze should have frightened me, but instead it made me bolder. I wanted to be remembered. Wanted to leave a mark on him that would remain long after I was gone.

I took him in my hand, marveling at the contrast—my artist’s fingers, slender and pale, wrapped around his substantial girth. Istroked him slowly, learning the texture, the weight, the way the head flushed darker when I squeezed just so.

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