Page 112 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“You don’t have to—” he began, but I cut him off.

“I want to,” I insisted. “Let me have this.”

Before he could argue, I lowered my head, my lips parting around the smooth head of his cock. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely Cade—flooded my senses. I tried to take more of him, but my throat constricted after just a few inches, my eyes watering with the effort.

“Easy,” Cade murmured, his fingers threading through my hair.

I pulled back slightly, wrapping my hand around what I couldn't fit in my mouth. The visual was almost artistic—the powerful column of his arousal against my smaller frame, a study in contrasts and possession. I established a rhythm, my hand working in tandem with my mouth, twisting slightly on the upstroke the way I'd learned he liked.

Cade’s breathing grew ragged, his abs tightening beneath my free hand. His fingers tightened in my hair, not pushing or guiding, just holding on as if he needed something to anchor him. The slight sting against my scalp only heightened my awareness of him, of the power he was restraining for my sake.

“The way you look right now,” he groaned, his voice dropping to that register that made my insides liquify. “Your mouth… fuck, Finn.”

I glanced up through tear-spiked lashes, needing to see his face, to witness what I was doing to him. His eyes had shifted completely to silver, pupils blown wide with desire, jaw clenched as he fought for control. A flush had spread across his chest, and I could feel the tremor in his thighs beneath my body.

“Finn,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Enough. I won’t last.”

I pulled off with a wet sound that should have been embarrassing but only made me feel powerful. I pressed one lastkiss to the head of his cock, my tongue darting out to catch the bead of moisture there, before reluctantly moving to Logan.

Where Cade was all controlled power, Logan was raw strength—his body a battlefield map of scars and hard planes. I traced the longest scar with my tongue, following its path from his collarbone to just above his nipple. The raised tissue felt different against my tongue, and I wondered what had caused it, what enemy had dared to mark him.

Logan’s patience ran out quickly. His hand cupped the back of my neck, urging me downward with unmistakable intent. “Don’t tease,” he growled, his cock twitching against his stomach in anticipation.

I obeyed, taking him into my mouth with more enthusiasm than skill. Logan was thicker than Cade, stretching my lips to their limit. Before I could establish a rhythm, his hips bucked upward, pushing deeper than I was prepared for. I gagged, pulling back slightly, but instead of apologizing, Logan growled in approval.

“That’s it,” he said, his hand tightening on my neck. “Take it deeper.”

The command in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I relaxed my throat as best I could, letting him guide the pace with shallow thrusts that gradually went deeper. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, but the discomfort was secondary to the thrill of watching Logan’s control slip.

“Just like that,” he growled when I hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder. “Fuck, your mouth is perfect.”

His thighs tensed beneath me, a sure sign he was close. I doubled my efforts, determined to push him over the edge, to taste his release, to know I had given him that pleasure. Instead, with a muttered curse, he pulled me off him, his chest heaving with exertion.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice rough. “Not like this.”

Keir was watching with hooded eyes, his hand lazily stroking his own cock as he waited his turn. Unlike his brothers, who were built like heavyweight fighters—all broad shoulders and thick muscle—Keir’s body had a swimmer’s streamlined power. His muscles were longer, less bulky but no less defined, giving him a sleek, agile appearance that disguised his supernatural strength.

I crawled to him, my movements deliberately slow, enjoying the way his eyes darkened as I approached. I started with his mouth, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss that he returned with equal fervor. His tongue tangled with mine, tasting his brothers on me and groaning in approval.

“Eager little fox,” he murmured against my lips as we broke apart. “I love watching you with them. Love seeing what you do to them.”

I trailed kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, down the center of his chest. Where Cade’s chest was a wall of muscle and Logan’s was a battlefield of scars, Keir’s was smooth and defined. I took my time, exploring the differences, committing them to memory for paintings I would never show anyone.

“Don’t tease,” Keir said, though his tone suggested he enjoyed the anticipation. “You know what I want.”

I looked up at him through my lashes, deliberately hovering my mouth just above his cock. “Tell me,” I challenged, wanting—needing—to hear him say it.

“I want your mouth on me,” he said without hesitation, his hand coming to cup my cheek. “Want to feel those perfect lips stretched around my cock. Want to watch you take me.”

The raw desire in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I maintained eye contact as I lowered my head, my tongue darting out to taste the bead of moisture at his tip. Keir’s breath hitched, his fingers sliding into my hair, brushing against my fox ear.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of my sensitive ear. “So perfect for us.”

I took my time exploring him with my tongue first—tracing the prominent vein on the underside, swirling around the sensitive head, learning what made his breath hitch and his fingers tighten in my hair. Keir was different from his brothers here too—slightly longer, with a graceful curve that matched the elegant lines of his body.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he encouraged as I finally took him into my mouth. “Right there. God, the way you look right now—I want to paint you like this, on your knees, lips stretched around me. So fucking perfect.”

Unlike his brothers, Keir talked the entire time, a stream of praise and filthy promises that made me flush with both embarrassment and pride. His words affected me almost as much as his touch, making me moan around him, the vibration pulling a curse from his lips.

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