Page 116 of In Control

Esra places his hand on her thigh like he’s been clearly dying to do all afternoon. “It’s been an agonising four weeks.”

His hand remains on her thigh for the rest of the picnic.

There’s no argument from any of us this time when Sophia suggests we go back to our house for that game of scrabble an hour later.

But if I was hoping scrabble was an euphemism for something more explicit, I’m disappointed. Sophia seems determined to beat all our arses. Soon I’m down to my boxers and socks, Gabe has lost his trousers, and Esra is in just his pants. Roman is faring slightly better, but unfortunately Sophia is still wearing most of her clothes. That’s about to change though, because on her next go she’s unable to spell out a word that scores any more than ten points.

“Looks like you’re going to have to lose a piece of clothing, sweetheart,” I tell her, trying really hard not to lick my lips like the pervert I am.

She stands to her feet and hooks her thumbs into the waistband.

“Skirt?” she asks, with a curl of her lips.

“I’m taking it off,” Esra growls, and before any of us can argue, he’s on his knees in front of our girl, tugging the thing down her legs.

Sharp intakes of breath resound from all our lips as he does. Sophia is wearing the teeniest, laciest, silkiest pair of knickers I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Black.

Esra twists her around slowly, so we all get a look at the back. The underwear is cut away to emphasise the globes of her arse. I want to sink my teeth into those cheeks.

“Does the bra match?” Esra asks, his voice throaty.

He spins her back to face him and reaches up to undo the buttons of her blouse.

“Hey,” she protests, “those aren't the rules of this game.”

“Fuck the rules. Fuck the game.” He takes a grip of the blouse and rips the front straight open, buttons pinging off in all directions.

“Jesus Christ,” Sophia says with an eye roll. “So bloody dramatic.”

“That’s nothing,” he says, hooking his fingers inside her underwear and ripping those away next.

“You seem to enjoy either stealing or destroying my underwear.”

“Yes. I do.”

He grins and she returns his smile indulgently, and then he looks up at her properly. My gaze follows his and we both see it at the same time.

The slight curve of her belly.

28

Sophia

The lookon Esra’s face turns from one of mischief to one of reverence.

“Sophia,” he says as he rests his warm palm gently on my belly.

I take a sharp inhale. I had no idea it was obvious yet.

Liam shuffles forward, landing on his knees beside his packmate.

“Are you …?” Esra asks, and my heart pauses in my chest.

“What?” Gabe asks.

A blush spreads over my cheeks. “This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned on telling you.”

“Telling us what?” Gabe asks, swinging his gaze between us in confusion.

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