Page 84 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

They had rearranged themselves while I was in the bathroom, sitting up against the headboard in a display of muscular perfection that should have been illegal before noon. The sheet pooled around their waists, doing little to hide the fact that morning had brought… enthusiasm to all three of them.

“Pancakes can wait,” Cade said, patting the space they’d left for me in the middle of the bed. “Come here, little fox.”

“I’m not actually a pet, you know,” I pointed out, even as my feet carried me toward the bed without conscious permissionfrom my brain. “The whole ‘come here’ command thing is getting old.”

“And yet you’re coming here,” Logan observed with a smirk that made me want to both slap him and kiss him. Possibly at the same time.

“Only because I’m cold,” I lied, climbing onto the bed with as much dignity as possible while wearing nothing but Cade’s shirt. “Why is the air-conditioning blasting in summer? It’s freezing in here.”

“You weren’t complaining about being cold last night,” Keir reminded me, his hand immediately finding my thigh as I settled between them. “In fact, I distinctly recall you being quite… hot.”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat that rushed to my face at his words. “Are you always this cheesy the morning after, or am I just special?”

“You’re always special,” Cade said, his voice dropping to that register that sent shivers down my spine. His hand cupped my cheek, turning my face toward his. “And we’re always this… attentive… with our mate.”

There was that word again. Mate. So simple yet so loaded with implications I wasn’t ready to face. I opened my mouth to make some snarky comment about their presumption, but before any words could escape, Cade leaned forward and captured my lips with his.

This wasn’t the hungry, desperate kiss from last night. Cade moved with deliberate patience, his lips soft but firm against mine. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek as his mouth worked against mine with unhurried precision. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, the request was gentle but insistent.

I parted for him without conscious thought, a small sigh escaping as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against mine in slow, measured strokes, exploring every corner of my mouthas if mapping territory he intended to claim permanently. There was no rush in his movements, no frantic edge—just thorough, methodical possession that left me dizzy.

His other hand found the small of my back, drawing me closer until I could feel the heat of his body. My own hands moved of their own accord, fingers curling into the solid muscle of his shoulders, needing something to anchor me as he continued his careful exploration.

When he finally pulled back, he did so gradually—a series of smaller kisses that tapered off rather than a sudden retreat. I realized I was clutching his shoulders, my knuckles white with the force of my grip, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I struggled to catch my breath.

“That’s cheating,” I managed, though there was no heat in my accusation.

“All’s fair in love and mate-claiming,” Keir quipped, his hand sliding higher on my thigh in a way that made my breath catch. “Besides, you weren’t exactly protesting.”

He was right, which was annoying. I hadn’t been protesting. In fact, I’d been an enthusiastic participant, as evidenced by the way my body was already responding to their proximity. It was like the dam had broken last night, and now all the desire I’d been suppressing for years was flooding out at once, drowning my common sense in a tidal wave of want.

As Keir’s mouth found my neck, I felt a surge of boldness I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the lingering effects of last night’s pleasure, or maybe it was just the knowledge that this couldn’t last—that once the novelty wore off, once they realized the mate bond was forcing feelings that weren’t real, this would end. If this was all I would ever have with them, I wanted to make it count. Wanted to memorize every inch, every sound, every sensation before reality came crashing back.

“My turn,” I murmured, surprising even myself with the husky quality of my voice as I pushed Keir back against the pillows.

Keir’s eyes widened momentarily before darkening with desire. “By all means, little fox,” he said, his hands settling on my hips. “Show us what you want.”

I didn’t need a second invitation. I lowered my head, trailing kisses down Keir’s chest, mapping the ridges and planes of his muscles with my lips and tongue. His skin tasted like salt and something uniquely him—a flavor I wanted to commit to memory. When I reached his nipple, I remembered how he’d teased mine the night before and decided turnabout was fair play. I took the hardened bud between my teeth, biting down gently before soothing the sting with my tongue.

Keir’s response was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his hands tightening on my hips. “Fuck, Finn,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows.

I felt a surge of power at his reaction, a heady sense of control that was intoxicating. I continued my exploration, moving lower, following the trail of golden hair that led down his stomach. Behind me, I could feel Cade and Logan watching, their desire palpable in the air between us.

“Look at you,” Logan murmured, his voice rough with want. “Taking what you want. So beautiful.”

His words emboldened me further. I reached the edge of the sheet, pulling it away to reveal Keir in all his glory. I’d felt him last night, had him pressed against me, but I hadn’t really looked. Now I took my time, admiring the impressive length of him, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. The contrast between us was almost comical—me, small and slight in every way, and them, massive and powerful, even in this.

“Seems unfair,” I mused, wrapping my hand around him experimentally. My fingers couldn’t completely encircle him,another reminder of how different we were. “That you’re all so… proportional.”

Keir’s laugh turned into a groan as I stroked him, my grip firm but gentle. “Not—ah!—complaining, are you?”

“Just making an observation,” I replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his hip bone. “For artistic purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” Cade agreed, his voice strained as he watched me touch his brother. “Very… artistic.”

I continued my exploration, stroking Keir with increasing confidence. When my thumb circled the sensitive head, his breath caught sharply, a strangled gasp escaping his parted lips. As I tightened my grip slightly on the upstroke, his hips jerked upward involuntarily, seeking more friction. And when I combined both movements while my other hand gently cupped him below, his head fell back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed, then opening again, darkened with pleasure.

The weight of him in my hand was substantial, hot and heavy and impossibly smooth despite the hardness beneath. I traced the prominent vein on the underside with my thumb, watching in fascination as it pulsed beneath my touch.

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