Page 112 of Knuckles & Knives
For a moment, we stay frozen in that perfect tableau—Kieran still buried inside me, Dom’s mouth gentle against my oversensitive flesh, Marcus and Axel watching with the kind of reverent attention usually reserved for religious experiences.
“Switch,” I pant, my voice barely functional but carrying absolute command. “Dom, I want you next. And Marcus, I want your mouth on my breasts while he fucks me.”
“Insatiable,” Marcus observes with academic interest, but he’s already moving to comply. “I love that about you.”
Kieran reluctantly pulls out of me, leaving me empty and aching for more. I can feel his release trickling down my thighs, marking me as thoroughly claimed. Dom’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight, his massive hands spreading my legs wider to admire the evidence of Kieran’s possession.
“Fuck, you look beautiful like this,” he growls, his fingers trailing through the wetness between my thighs. “Marked. Used. Ours.”
“More,” I demand, my hips lifting toward his touch. “I want to feel all of you. I want to be so full of you that I can’t think straight.”
Dom positions himself at my entrance, his cock significantly thicker than Kieran’s, stretching me in ways that make me gasp and claw at the table. “Easy, baby,” he murmurs, his voice gentle despite the raw hunger in his eyes. “Let me open you up. Let me make you ready for what you need.”
The stretch burns in the most delicious way as he works himself inside me inch by agonizing inch. Marcus’s mouth finds my breast, his tongue circling my nipple before drawing it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make me arch off the table. The dual sensations—Dom filling me completely while Marcus worships my breasts—threaten to drive me insane with pleasure.
“Christ, you’re tight,” Dom groans as he finally seats himself fully inside me. “Even after Kieran. Still gripping me like you never want to let me go.”
“I don’t,” I gasp, my hands fisting in Marcus’s dark hair as he switches his attention to my other breast. “Never want to let any of you go.”
Kieran and Axel position themselves on either side of me, their hands roaming my body as Dom sets a demanding rhythm that has me crying out with every thrust. Kieran’s fingers find my clit, circling with the precise pressure he knows drives me wild, while Axel’s mouth traces patterns along my neck that make me shiver despite the heat building inside me.
“Look at her,” Axel murmurs, his voice thick with arousal and wonder. “Look at how she takes Dom’s cock. How her body opens up for what she needs. Fucking poetry in motion.”
“Beautiful,” Kieran agrees, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm on my clit. “Our perfect queen, taking everything we give her and begging for more.”
The combination of sensations—Dom’s thickness stretching me with every powerful thrust, Marcus’s mouth working magic on my breasts, Kieran’s skilled fingers on my clit, Axel’s worship against my throat—builds to something approaching transcendence. I can feel another orgasm building, different from the first, deeper and more intense.
“I’m going to come,” I gasp, my body trembling with the approaching storm. “I’m going to come so hard. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” Dom promises, his rhythm becoming more demanding, more possessive. “Come for us, baby. Show us who you belong to.”
“All of you,” I sob, and then the pleasure crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing around Dom’s cock as waves of sensation wash through every nerve ending. I can hear myself screaming their names, but the sound seems to come from very far away.
Dom follows me over the edge with a roar that echoes off the conference room walls, his massive frame shuddering as he empties himself inside me. The feeling of his release mixing with Kieran’s, marking me from the inside out, makes me moan with satisfaction.
“Axel,” I whisper as soon as I can speak again, my voice hoarse from screaming. “I need you. I need all of you inside me.”
“Fuck,” Axel breathes, his wild energy barely contained as he takes Dom’s place between my trembling thighs. “You sure you can take more? You’re already so full of them.”
“I can take anything you give me,” I challenge, my amber eyes meeting his dark ones with absolute certainty. “I want to be so full of all of you that I can’t tell where you end and I begin.”
“Axel,” I breathe as soon as I can speak again. “Your turn.”
The beautiful chaos that follows involves multiple position changes, creative use of the conference room furniture, and levels of coordination that would impress a professional dance troupe. Axel’s wild energy channeled into focused worship that has me screaming his name while Marcus takes his turn claiming me with the same analytical precision he brings to everything else.
By the time we’re all sated, the conference table bears evidence of our celebration, papers scattered and the polished surface marked with the proof of our passion. We’re tangled together on the thick carpet, skin cooling and breathing gradually returning to normal, surrounded by the discarded remains of our professional attire.
Afterward, as we lie tangled together on the conference room floor, skin cooling and breathing gradually returning to normal, there’s a sense of completion that goes far beyond physical satisfaction. We’ve claimed each other and our empire simultaneously, marked our territory in the most primal way possible.
“No regrets?” I ask quietly, the same question I posed last night but carrying different weight now that we’ve publicly committed to transformation on an unprecedented scale.
“Never,” Dom says immediately, his arm tightening around all of us with satisfied possession.
“Best decision of my life,” Kieran adds, his platinum hair disheveled and his usual composure replaced by contentment I rarely see.
“Most successful applied psychology experiment in recorded history,” Marcus observes with dry humor that makes us all laugh.
“Fucking perfect,” Axel concludes, his wild grin visible even in the late afternoon light streaming through the windows.
