We glance at the guys still by the door. They watch us with desire.
Seeming to come out of his stupor, Ford moves first, crossing to the foot of the bed. Jace follows and takes a spot near Wes, shifting closer to the head of the mattress. Logan circles to the far side and settles beside me on the left.
The bed is large, built for more than one body. Wide enough to hold all of us without feeling cramped, but their presence still presses in from every side.
Ford stands at the end for a moment, his gaze dragging over me from knees to face. A small smile pulls at his mouth. Then he crawls up from the bottom and stops in front of me.
He holds my gaze. “You say stop, we stop.”
I stare at him with more confidence than I feel. “I don’t want to stop. I want to do everything and learn you.”
I take a slow glance at each of them. I want them to know that I mean all of them.
Ford reaches for the tie at my hip. He twirls the end around his finger.
My face heats. “I know. It’s not exactly sexy.” I force myself to look up. “I promise I’ll get some lingerie for next time.”
Jace brushes his lips near my ear. “You in anything is sexy, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in something lacy that I get to peel off.” He takes my earlobe between his lips, tongue sliding slow and deliberate before he releases it. I gasp, hips jolting as a throb pulls deep in my center. He smiles against my skin and kisses just below my ear.
Ford chuckles under his breath and nuzzles in the left side of my neck, tracing his mouth over my scent gland. The moment his lips graze that spot, I almost come.
“Besides, the tie is fun. It makes me feel like my birthday has come early, and you’re my present.” He tugs it loose.
The gown opens. Jace and Logan each take a side and slide it off my shoulders until it slips off my arms and pools on the bed.
The moment they see me bare, their scents explode. Clove, rain, pine, smoke, mint. All of it hits against my skin, wrapping around me so tight it pulls a gasp from my throat. My nipples harden. My clit throbs. I’m soaked through, and they can all smell it.
Logan hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, already heavy with slick, and glances at me for permission. I nod. He pulls the fabric down my legs to my knees. Before I canlean back to help, Wes surges forward and captures my mouth in a kiss that burns, tongue sweeping deep as his hand curls hard around my waist.
I melt into it, letting him take and fuel the ache curling inside me. When he pulls back, his breath is unsteady. He rises to his feet and lifts me as if I weigh nothing. Then he takes my spot on the bed and settles with his back against the wall, pulling me into his lap.His thighs press snug to mine. His arm holds me close. His tongue trails the curve of my neck, just below my ear.
My thighs squeeze together as Logan eases the underwear off.
Wes’s dark, large hands slide along my sides and up my outer thighs until he reaches my knees.
Lifting his mouth from my skin, he hums. “Show them your beautiful wet pussy.” It’s almost a command.
I shiver.
I let him ease my legs apart, exposing every inch of me. I’ve never had anyone see me like this. I’m glad I keep everything shaved smooth except for a soft patch at the top.
His palms glide down my inner thighs before they stop by my folds. His voice drops to a whisper near my ear.“I’ve never done this before, so if it doesn’t feel good, stop me.”
I nod and swallow hard. I’ve never touched myself, never had the urge to, with my libido as dead as it was for a decade. So all of this is new to me, too. I have no idea what it will feel like or if I’ll like it.
One finger drags along my outer folds, slipping through the slick at my slit. He finds my clit and rubs it with the flat of his middle finger.
Pleasure slams into the base of my spine, nerves lighting up all at once. I squirm in his lap, thighs tensing as my breath catches. It’s almost too much and not enough. My hips rock without meaning to.
I groan. “More pressure.”
Wes kisses the side of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He doesn’t tease or hold back. His middle finger circles tighter, then presses harder, rubbing slow and steady until my toes curl.
My breath snags. Desire builds low and fast, pooling deep in my belly.
His other arm holds me steady across my waist, keeping me grounded while my hips chase every stroke. My nails scrape lightly down his forearm, not to stop him, to anchor me. It’s too much and still not enough, and the way he touches me makes it worse in the best way. His chest moves with each breath, and I can feel the hard press of his erection against my lower back through his pants.
He switches to flicking his finger fast back and forth over the bud.
