Page 199 of They Are Mine

They all look at me.

Starving. Worshipful. Fucking ruined already.

I bite my lip, thrilling in the power of it.

And then I step back, just enough to take them all in.

Four men, mine.

Dressed. Too dressed.

Not for long.

I reach for Callum first, because he is the newest, the one who still needs to learn.

I hook my fingers into his waistband, pop the button, drag the zipper down. I watch his face as I do it.

His green eyes darken. His jaw flexes. His cock is thick and hard before I even have his jeans past his hips.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, watching me the way a starving man watches his last meal.

I drop to my knees to shove them the rest of the way down. Because why the hell wouldn’t I? I press a kiss to the sharp line of his hip. Inhale him.

“Jesus Christ.” His fingers thread into my hair.

Not yet.

I stand, turn to Orion. My beast.

He already knows. He’s already pulling off his shirt, kicking off his boots, smirking as he watches me.

Cocky. Certain. Ready.

I rake my nails down his chest before undoing his pants. Because I love that body, and he knows it.

“Gonna worship me, sweetheart?” he teases, voice already strained.

I push his pants down, fingers brushing his cock, thick, hot, heavy, as I do.

His breath shudders.

Yes.

I move to Noah. My heart. My poet.

He lets me strip him slow, watching me like he’s composing a sonnet in his head, already lost in the poetry of this moment.

I slide his pants down deliberately, knowing he likes the tease, knowing he likes to make things last.

He shudders when I kiss the center of his chest.

Elliot is already undressing himself.

Of course he is.

He watches all of us, studying, cataloging, amused and unbearably aroused.

I reach for his belt.

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