Page 97 of Knuckles & Knives
Dom’s thick fingers replace Kieran’s. There’s no teasing, just deliberate, perfect preparation. He knows my body now. All ofthem do. And they work together like a unit, coaxing me into a frenzy of anticipation.
“Ready for more?” Marcus asks, his voice low, velvet-smooth and sharp like a scalpel.
I nod. “I want everything,” I whisper. “All of you. Inside me. I want to feel how much you love me.”
Axel lets out a rough, barely contained groan. “Fuck, Raven…”
Dom moves behind me, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. His voice is gravel when he speaks. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
I feel the cool slide of lube—of preparation—and I shiver as his fingers work me open from behind. Gentle. Experienced. Thorough. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the steady stretch of trust.
Kieran positions himself between my legs, his cock thick and ready. His hands cup my hips as he looks down at me. “Breathe, baby,” he says. “We’ve got you.”
Dom pushes inside me from behind the moment Kieran starts to enter me from the front, and I cry out, overwhelmed. Not from pain. From fullness. From everything. Every part of me claimed. Every nerve ending alight.
My body is a battlefield, but not one of war—of surrender. Of devotion. Of pleasure so sharp it borders on pain and crashes back into pleasure again.
Kieran thrusts forward with controlled power, hips meeting mine as Dom presses deeper behind me. Their movements are coordinated, measured, pushing and pulling in tandem—two perfect storms colliding in my body and reducing me to nothing but sensation.
My moans are wild and uncontrolled.
Marcus’s hand tangles in my hair as he guides my mouth to his cock. I take him in, needing to taste, needing to connect with each of them.
“Look at her,” Axel says, breathless, stroking himself as he watches. “She’s fucking radiant. Wrecked and shining and perfect.”
Dom groans behind me, his thrusts growing harder.
Kieran leans down to kiss my neck and cheek between thrusts. “So fucking tight. So good. You were made for this.”
I’m unraveling quickly, and the orgasm hits like a detonation, blinding and violent, tearing through my body and leaving me gasping and shuddering with release.
But they don’t stop.
Dom comes with a low, shuddering growl, his thrusts slowing as he pulses deep inside me. Kieran follows seconds later, his entire body trembling as he spills into me with a choked curse of my name.
Marcus finishes in my mouth, and I swallow every bit of it.
Axel is last—his grip tight on my thighs as he straddles my waist, sliding between my breasts with one hand guiding him. I arch for him, still shaking. “Come on,” I whisper. “Let go.”
He does with a wild, broken sound and a spill of heat and release across my skin.
The room is quiet after, heavy with the scent of sex and sweat.
They clean me. Tend to me. Press kisses to my temple, my neck, my thighs. I feel treasured, not used. Not broken. Whole.
Dom’s hand rests on my stomach. Kieran’s arm curls under my shoulders. Marcus strokes my hair. Axel sprawls across my legs like a human blanket, grinning.
“We love you,” Kieran says, his voice thick.
I smile up at the ceiling, utterly wrecked and entirely at peace. “I know, and I love you too. Now let’s destroy Cross before he realizes just how badly he’s fucked up.”
“Cross is going to regret teaching you strategy,” Kieran murmurs against my shoulder, his voice carrying post-intimacy contentment mixed with anticipatory satisfaction.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he created his own perfect enemy,” Marcus answers from his position curled against my other side. “Someone who knows his methods but isn’t bound by his limitations.”
