Page 63 of Claimed By The Club
“I can’t believe this,” I murmur, eyes shining. “We actually made it. No guns pointed at us, no hidden agendas—just us.”
Frost kneels by the bedside, capturing my chin, voice low. “We nearly lost you too many times. I need to feel you’re here, real.” He kisses me, a slow burn igniting through my veins. I melt against him, tangling my fingers in his dark hair.
Ghost maneuvers across the opposite end of the bed, leaning in to kiss the side of my neck, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes my breathing shallow. His voice rumbles near my ear, “Let us show you how we feel. No holding back.”
Viper climbs in behind me, his hold tightens around my waist. He kisses my shoulder, offering tender nips that make me gasp. “Just say if it’s too much,” he murmurs.
I respond by arching into him, letting a wave of desire propel me. My hands roam, reacquainting with muscles and tattoos, each man’s body a familiar map I’m still eager to explore. The air sizzles with the combined heat of four hearts pounding in sync. My mind barely registers the battered walls or the worn furniture. All that matters is this moment, a culmination of tension, devotion, and raw longing.
As our clothes come off in a careful flurry, we share kisses and touches that peel away the remnants of fear. Frost’s mouth consumes mine in a hungry clash, while Viper’s hands roam my sides, and Ghost’s grip steadies me, his lips brushing my neck. A series of quiet moans and breathless murmurs underscores how monumental this is for each of us.
Our positioning shifts fluidly. Frost’s gaze meets mine, intense and full of promise. “You’re ours,” he murmurs, voice rough. “And we’re yours.”
A shaky laugh slips out. “I never thought I’d be so happy to belong.” My throat tightens with emotion, but the press of warm bodies distracts me. I can’t help but grin at the interplay of touches, the knowledge that each man is offering a part of himself—body, heart, and loyalty.
The moment they converge on me, I’m lost in a storm of hands, lips, and possessive growls. Frost’s teeth graze my neck, Viper’s fingers twist in my hair, and Ghost’s palm slides between my thighs, teasing—always teasing. I gasp as Frost spins me, my back pressed to his chest, his thick cock already straining against my ass.
“On your knees, sweetheart,” Viper murmurs, his voice dark velvet.
I drop to all fours, the mattress dipping beneath me. Frost’s hands grip my hips, his length sliding between my thighs, hot and heavy, smearing pre-cum against my skin. “Fuck, you’re already dripping,” he growls, biting my shoulder.
Viper kneels in front of me, his cock—long, thick, veined—brushing my lips. I don’t hesitate. I take him deep, my tongue swirling the head before sinking down, throat working around him. He groans, fingers tightening in my hair. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”
Behind me, Frost’s hands dig into my hips, possessive and rough, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin that I’ll wear like trophies tomorrow. His cock—thick, relentless—nudges against my soaked slit, the swollen head catching on my entrance before he pushes in with one slow, agonizing thrust. My body yields, stretching around him, the burn so sweet it steals my breath. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against my ass, his groan vibrating against the back of my neck.
“Fuck,” he growls, his voice dark with need. “So goddamn wet and warm, Sierra. You’re perfect for me, for us.”
I moan around Viper’s cock, my lips stretched obscenely around his length, my tongue working the thick vein underneath. Saliva drips down my chin, my jaw aching, but I don’t stop—won’t stop—not when his fingers fist in my hair, guiding me deeper, forcing me to take him to the root. My throat flutters around him, and his hips jerk in response, a ragged curse tearing from his lips.
“Oh, Sierra! That’s crazy! Fuck it,” he groans, his hips moving but careful he will hurt me. I moan in response, looking up at him.
Ghost moves like a shadow, taking my attention, his touch electric as he kneels beside me. His fingers—cruel, perfect—find my nipple, pinching and rolling until the sharp pleasure-pain makes me whimper around Viper’s cock. His other hand driftslower, fingertips skating through my slick folds before circling my clit in slow, torturous strokes.
“Look at you,” Ghost murmurs, his voice rough with admiration. His dark eyes rake over me—a mess of spit and sweat and need—watching me suck Viper off while Frost fucks me deep, his cock dragging against my walls with every punishing thrust. “Taking us so fucking good, sweetheart. Like you were made for this.”
My heart races, and my pussy grows wetter. Mini-orgasms attack every fiber of my being, making me lose my senses. All I know is I need to touch Ghost.
I reach for Ghost’s cock, my fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, pumping him in time with Frost’s rhythm. The room is thick with the sounds of skin slapping, choked moans, and the filthy, wet slide of my mouth on Viper. The air smells like sex—salt and musk and desperation—and I’m drowning in it, in them.
Frost’s grip turns bruising, his pace relentless, each snap of his hips driving me harder onto his cock. “You feel that, Sierra?” he snarls, his voice raw. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”
I do. I feel everything.
Viper’s cock heavy on my tongue, the way his thighs tense when I hollow my cheeks. Frost’s thick length splitting me open, the delicious stretch bordering on too much. Ghost’s fingers working my clit with sinful precision, the pleasure coiling tighter, tighter, until my entire body is strung taut between them.
“Gonna come,” I try to say, but it’s just a muffled whimper around Viper’s cock.
Ghost’s thumb presses harder, his voice a dark command. “Do it. Come for us.”
And I shatter.
My orgasm crashes through me like a storm, my pussy clenching around Frost’s cock, my thighs trembling violently.Viper groans as I swallow around him, his release spilling hot and bitter down my throat. Frost follows, his thrusts turning erratic before he slams deep, his cock pulsing as he fills me up, his growl vibrating against my skin.
Ghost strokes himself, his cum streaking across my stomach as he watches me come undone beneath them—used, claimed, loved—his breath ragged with satisfaction.
And when it’s over, when my body is limp and spent, they don’t let me go.
We collapse in a heap of limbs, chest rising and falling, heartbeats pounding like thunder. My face flushes as I realize the intensity of what we just shared. But none of them release me, arms coiling around my waist or shoulders, each man pressing a kiss of affirmation. A sweet hush settles in the aftermath, the earlier tension replaced by languid satisfaction.
