Page 30 of Claimed By the Bikers
“Breathe,” Silas says, his voice low, steady.
Atlas presses into me alongside Silas, the stretch almost overwhelming, my breath catching in my throat. They move in sync, careful at first, but every push makes the heat coil tighter in my stomach.
Silas leans up just enough for his voice to hit my ear. “You’re taking us both. Look at you.”
Atlas groans, his tone darker. “She’s perfect for this.”
The pressure, the rhythm, the heat from both of them is almost too much. My fingers curl into the sheets, my voice breaking as pleasure floods through me.
Silas’s thrusts deepen, Atlas matching him, both of them holding me in place between them.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my voice raw.
They don’t.
The rhythm breaks apart into rougher, faster thrusts. Silas’s grip tightens at my hips, Atlas groans low behind me, both of them pushing harder, chasing the edge.
“Let go,” Silas says, his voice a growl.
I break with a cry, my whole body shaking as my climax rips through me. My legs give out, but their hands hold me in place, their cocks driving me through every wave until I’m gasping.
Silas pulls out first, his breathing heavy. Atlas follows, and a moment later I feel the heat of them spilling across my back and stomach, my skin marked by the mess they leave. Garrett steps in close, his hand sliding into my hair as he finishes over my chest, my breath still ragged from the high.
When it’s done, I’m wrecked, trembling, barely able to stay upright.
Silas is the first to move, his voice calmer now. “Come on.”
He lifts me easily, carrying me into the adjoining bathroom. The water’s already running by the time I register the cool tile under my feet. Silas lowers me into the shower, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he soaps my skin, washing away sweat, cum, and the heat of what just happened.
When I step back into the bedroom, my hair damp, the bed is freshly made. The sheets are crisp, with no sign of what happened minutes ago.
On the bedside table, there’s a plate of food—pasta that smells good, but looks like it’s just been microwaved. I eye it suspiciously, and Garrett smirks from where he’s leaning against the wall. “It’s not poisoned,” he says.
I sit on the bed, taking a cautious bite. It’s warm, comforting. My stomach starts to loosen as I eat.
When I’ve had enough, Atlas takes the plate and sets it aside. Garrett adjusts the pillows, and Silas pulls the blanket over me.
“Sleep,” Silas says, his voice calm.
The warmth, the clean sheets, the quiet rumble of their voices fade into the background as I close my eyes, my body giving in.
9
GARRETT
Sunlight streamsthrough the kitchen windows as I flip bacon in the cast iron skillet, the familiar rhythm of cooking helping clear my head after last night. Every muscle in my body aches in the best possible way, reminders of hours spent claiming our little FBI agent until she was boneless and breathless beneath us.
Above me, the house is quiet. Atlas and Silas are still passed out, and Natalie—I refuse to think of her as Ember anymore—hasn’t stirred since we finally let her sleep around dawn. Part of me wonders if we broke her, if we pushed too hard too fast. But then I remember the way she responded to us, the sounds she made, how she begged for more even when she could barely speak.
No, we didn’t break her. We just showed her who she really belongs to.
I crack eggs into a bowl, whisking them with practiced ease. Growing up in a house full of men, I learned early that cooking was survival. After I lost Sarah and Katie, it became meditation. Something to do with my hands when the grief threatened todrown me. Now it’s care—a way to show love when words feel inadequate.
The stairs creak softly behind me, and I smile without turning around. “Morning, lass. Sleep well?”
No answer. Just more careful footsteps, trying to be silent on hardwood floors that have betrayed every secret for twenty years.
I set down the whisk and turn slowly, catching sight of bare legs and one of my flannel shirts before she bolts for the front door. She’s fast, but I’ve been expecting this. Been waiting for her to try exactly this.
