Page 77 of Knuckles & Knives
“My turn,” Kieran says, pulling me against him with controlled intensity. His kiss is different—calculated but no less passionate, like he’s trying to memorize the taste of me. “Whatever happens tomorrow,” he murmurs against my lips, “tonight you’re ours. Completely.”
Axel doesn’t wait for permission. He simply takes, his kiss wild and desperate, full of the chaotic energy that makes him so dangerous and so irresistible. “Been thinking about this,” he breathes against my throat. “About all of us together, no barriers, no holding back.”
Marcus approaches last, his movements deliberate and precise. When his lips find mine, the kiss is surprisingly gentle but no less intense. “This changes everything,” he says quietly. “After tonight, we’re not just allies or lovers. We’re family.”
“Family,” I repeat, looking around at the four men who’ve become my everything. “I like the sound of that.”
What follows is unlike anything we’ve experienced before. Not just physical, though the heat building between us is overwhelming. This is about connection on every level—emotional, spiritual, the kind of bonding that happens when five people decide to trust each other with everything they are.
Dom’s hands are sure and possessive as they map my body, relearning every curve and hollow like he’s memorizing me for the battle ahead. “Beautiful,” he murmurs against my shoulder. “So fucking beautiful.”
Kieran’s touch is more controlled but no less intense, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that make me arch against him. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You’re perfect, and you’re ours.”
Axel’s mouth is everywhere—my throat, my collarbone, the sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me gasp. “Can’t get enough,” he says roughly. “Will never get enough of you.”
Marcus watches it all with those dark, calculating eyes, but there’s nothing cold about his observation. He’s cataloguing every reaction, every sound, storing them away like precious data. When his hands finally join the others’, his touch is reverent, worshipful.
“This is what trust looks like,” he says quietly. “Complete vulnerability. Complete acceptance.”
They undress me with careful coordination, four sets of hands working together to strip away not just my clothes but every barrier between us. When I’m finally naked before them, I should feel exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I feel powerful—desired and cherished and absolutely safe.
“Your turn,” I say, my voice husky with want.
Watching them undress is its own kind of worship. Dom’s powerful frame, scarred from years of fighting but beautiful in its raw strength. Kieran’s lean elegance, every line of him perfectly sculpted. Axel’s wiry intensity, muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash. Marcus’s controlled precision, even in something as simple as removing his shirt.
Four dangerous men, each deadly in their own way, each completely devoted to me and to each other.
When they come together around me, it’s like being caught in the center of a perfect storm. Hands and mouths everywhere, touching, claiming, worshipping. I lose track of who’s doing what, conscious only of the overwhelming sensation of being loved completely.
“Let us take care of you,” Dom’s voice rumbles against my ear. “Let us show you what you mean to us.”
I surrender to their worship, letting them carry me to heights of pleasure I didn’t know existed. They work together seamlessly, reading my responses and adjusting accordingly. When one brings me to the edge, another pulls me back, until I’m trembling and desperate and completely theirs.
“Please,” I whisper.
“We know,” Marcus says softly. “We know what you need.”
They take turns worshipping my body, each bringing their own unique style to my pleasure, but there’s no jealousy, no competition. Only unity of purpose and absolute devotion.
When Dom finally moves over me, settling between my thighs with reverential care, the others don’t retreat. They stay close, hands and mouths continuing their worship as he slides inside me with exquisite slowness.
“Look at us,” Kieran commands softly. “See how beautiful we are together.”
I force my eyes open, meeting four pairs of intense gazes. The love I see there—complex, dangerous, absolutely real—steals my breath.
“Family,” Axel says fiercely. “Our family.”
“Our family,” I agree, and feel something fundamental shift in the space between us.
The night becomes a blur of sensation and connection. They take turns claiming me, each encounter different but equally intense. Dom’s raw passion, Kieran’s controlled intensity, Axel’s wild energy, Marcus’s focused precision—all of it blending into something greater than the sum of its parts.
But more than the physical pleasure is the emotional intimacy. The way they hold me afterward, the whispered confessions and promises, the absolute trust that flows between us like a living thing.
By the time dawn starts creeping through the windows, we’re all exhausted but deeply connected in a way that transcends anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m curled between them, my head on Dom’s chest, Kieran’s arm around my waist, Axel’s fingers threading through my hair, Marcus’s hand resting possessively on my hip.
“Whatever happens today,” I say softly, “I want you all to know that this—us—is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Same,” Dom’s voice rumbles against my cheek.
