I wantthem.Allof them.
And I know now - deep in my bones, in the way my body sings for each of them, in the way every bond thrums a different melody through my blood - that they want me too.
Ash’s strength. Theo’s steadiness. Kai’s wildness. Lucian’s fire.
Each thread pulling taut, unique and undeniable. Separate but harmonizing. A tangled web I don’t want untied.
I’m not split - I’mwhole. And for the first time in my life, I feel free. Not despite them, butbecauseof them.
“You’re squirming,” Ash mumbles, voice all wrecked velvet and post-knot smugness.
“I’m… processing,” I say helpfully.
He lifts his head just enough to glance down at my body, then his brow furrows when he sees the shirt.
“You’re still wearing Lucian’s shirt.”
“In my defense,” I say, “I forgot how limbs work.”
He hums, then thrusts just slightly - one evil little grind that sends a shockwave through every sore, still-tingling inch of me.
“Still tight,” he mutters. “Still greedy.”
“Shut up,” I groan, trying not to melt into the bed like a forgotten candle. “My body is confused.”
He laughs. “Your body’s fine. It just likes being full.”
My cheeks flame.
My vagina clenches in agreement, as if to saywell, he’s not wrong.
But before I can bite back something witty, I feel it.
Not hear. Not smell.Feel.
The air changes.
Like a cold front sweeping through the heat. Crisp. Controlled. The scent of polished wood and expensive cologne and judgment.
Ash tenses behind me, but I already know. My bond knows.
Lucian.
There’s a hiss as the door seal breaks, and then the sound of bootsteps.
Measured and precise. Each one deliberate; quiet fury wrapped in tailored calm.
He doesn’t speak. Of course he doesn’t speak. He just... exists. All looming silence and billionaire menace in black.
Ash stiffens like he’s preparing for impact. I do not move. Because
a) I am very sore, and
b) I am currently filled with another man’s knot while wearing Lucian’s shirt like I lost a bet.
Which, in fairness, I kind of did.
I make the mistake of looking up.