Chapter Four #3
“She likes that, Ro,” he says, his voice dark with satisfaction. “She just tightened around my fingers.”
Rowen’s still behind me, but I feel him leaning in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Do you?” he murmurs, voice warm silk laced with hunger. “You like it when I watch you?” His hand slides around to trace my breast, fingertips brushing over the peak.
“Yes...” The word is barely a breath, but it spills out like a confession against his brother’s lips.
“I can’t wait to see them make you theirs,” he continues, his voice sending shivers straight to my spine. “Every look, every sound you make... it’s all for us.”
“Rowen... please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for anymore, but somehow, he understands.
“I know what you need,” he whispers, right before his mouth closes over my nipple, sucking with a sudden heat that tears a gasp from my throat.
It hits me fast, like a shockwave crashing through my entire body. My muscles clench, my vision goes white around the edges, and I’m falling apart in their arms.
“That’s it,” Emerson murmurs, slowing his strokes, soothing me through the tremors that ripple under my skin. “You’re so damn beautiful when you let go.”
As Ronan finally lets my mouth go, Emerson leans in, brushing his lips against mine, slow and sweet.
“One down,” he says with a wicked glint in his eye.
“Two more to go. One for each of us. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?
” His forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with mine, and in that moment—messy, intense, breathless—I’ve never felt more alive.
Ronan lets out a low, husky laugh—thick with mischief and heat—before casually shoving his brother aside with a playful nudge.
“Move,” he mutters, voice rough with anticipation.
Then he drops to his knees in front of me like it’s exactly where he belongs.
His hands grip my hips with easy confidence as he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, steadying me.
“Open up for me, Berk,” he murmurs, voice thick with anticipation.
There’s no time for embarrassment. Not when his mouth is suddenly on me, pressing against the most sensitive part of me with slow, deliberate pressure that has my head tilting back and my hands grabbing onto Rowen and Emerson for support.
His tongue strokes a firm line, then teases in slow circles, while his nose brushes places that make me gasp. There’s no hesitation in the way he explores me, like he’s been dreaming about this moment just as long as I have.
When I glance down, breathless and trembling, Ronan’s eyes are already locked on mine—dark and intense, holding me there as if to say, feel this.
And I do.
God, I do.
The sound of a zipper breaks through the haze, and I realize one of his hands is working himself while he keeps his mouth moving with relentless focus. That thought alone sends heat racing up my spine.
“F—” I can’t finish the word as another wave crashes through me, this one faster, harder, leaving me shuddering and clinging to Ronan’s hair while he devours every inch of me as if he’s starving.
He groans low and deep, finishing with me. The sound vibrating against my sex as he slows his movements, easing me down with long, gentle strokes until the tension in my legs starts to fade.
Then, with a reverence that leaves my heart pounding, he presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh and gently lowers my leg, guiding me back to standing. His hands linger on my waist until he’s certain I can hold my own.
When he stands, his eyes search mine—gentle now, tender, looking for the same thing I feel burning in my chest.
He smiles softly and presses a kiss to my lips, not rushed or greedy—just full of quiet affection. “Let me watch while you take care of my brothers, baby.”
My soft, breathless whimper of an agreement is all the answer he needs. He steps back, giving space, while Emerson and Rowen close in like the tide.
Their hands brush over my skin—slow, steady, and worshipful—sending new shivers across my already-sensitive body. Rowen positions himself behind me, strong and silent, while Emerson steps in front, his eyes dark with restraint.
They sandwich me between them, heat and muscle and intent pressing in from both sides.
“You trust me, Berk?” Emerson asks, voice low but steady, fingers brushing the curve of my jaw.
I nod, heart hammering, panting. “Of course.”
Emerson’s hand slides slowly down my arm, his touch a mix of heat and tenderness. When our fingers intertwine, he gently tugs me forward, guiding me toward the couch. His confidence never falters—quiet but commanding.
He lowers himself onto the oversized cushions, relaxed but buzzing with restrained energy. Ronan lingers nearby, observant, his eyes following every move with unmistakable hunger.
Emerson settles back onto the couch, legs spread in a slow, confident sprawl that leaves no question about what he wants.
His hands move to his belt, unfastening it with practiced ease before slipping beneath the waistband.
A moment later, he frees himself, and his hand wraps around his length, gliding smoothly—his movements confident, deliberate, and already slick with anticipation.
When his eyes find mine, they burn—dark, intense, and molten enough to melt me where I stand.
“Straddle me,” he says simply.
My breath catches.
At the look in my eyes, he softens. “Not all the way,” he clarifies. “No penetration. Just you... rubbing against me. Getting off with me. Rowen will take care of the rest.”
I blink, heart pounding, heat blooming beneath my skin.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Emerson asks, voice low and teasing, his hands resting on his thighs like he’s barely keeping himself in check. “While we’re taking care of you?”
My knees go weak, barely holding me upright, while my entire body hums with anticipation. I’m so lost in the moment, I don’t even notice myself swaying—shifting from foot to foot—until Ronan lets out a low chuckle beside us, clearly enjoying the show.
“Come on, Berk,” Emerson urges, his smile both wicked and tender. “Climb on. Let me feel you.”
Practically panting, I move to straddle him, every inch of me buzzing with nerves and anticipation. As I sink down, my bare heat brushes against him—skin to skin—and we both groan at the contact. His eyes fall shut, hands gripping my hips like he’s anchoring himself.
I jerk my hips slightly, unable to stop the movement, and Emerson groans again, deeper this time. His fingers tightening at my waist.
“Easy,” he rasps. “You’re going to ruin me.”
Ronan chuckles again from the side. “Hold it together, man. Give her a chance to catch up.”
I smile—slow, wicked, and maybe a little smug—because this is power. Seeing Emerson wrecked. Feeling him shake beneath me.
Rowen steps up behind me, and I feel the heat of him before his hands make contact. He smooths one palm over the middle of my back, then presses lightly. “Lean forward for me,” he says.
I obey.
His other hand skims over my backside, lingering, exploring. Then he slides between my thighs, fingers dipping through the slick heat, collecting it with care.
“Damn, baby,” he breathes, voice thick. “You’re soaking wet for us.”
He spreads the wetness along my skin, coating the space between us.
I feel him adjust his pants enough to free himself, the brush of his length hot and hard against my skin as he presses forward, fitting himself between the curve of my cheeks.
His hands stay firm—one steadying me, the other guiding the slow, gliding motion of his body against mine.
I’m already so drenched that the slick sound of each movement fills the space between us, unmistakable and intoxicating.
Emerson groans under me, his jaw clenched tight. Rowen’s rhythm behind me is measured, deliberate. And I’m sandwiched between the two of them—flushed, panting, overwhelmed in the most glorious way.
Every brush of skin against skin, every ragged breath and quiet praise, sends me closer to the edge.
And I know—we’re just getting started.
“Brother,” Emerson grits out, his voice breaking as his fingers tighten on my hips, holding me in place. “You’d better move fast. Just the heat on me is enough to finish this.”
Laughter hums around me, low and knowing, but I can feel how close he is.
How close we all are. And I can’t help myself—I lean forward, burying my face into the curve of Emerson’s neck, letting him feel my breath, my need, as I roll my hips in a slow, devastating grind that lets both him and Rowen slide perfectly against me.
Their answering groans vibrate through me, deep and ragged, and I can’t help the slow, wicked smile that curves across my lips.
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Ronan murmurs as he tips my chin toward him, his gaze locked on mine, intense and unreadable. “Are you going to drive them over the edge, pretty girl? You going to let them fall apart for you?”
I nod, desperate, because yes—that’s exactly what I want.
Ronan smirks, scooting in closer until he’s right beside Emerson, his body lined up shoulder to hip, just as flushed and ready. He reaches down without shame, freeing himself again, his eyes flicking between us with bold intent.
“Guess I’m jumping in for round two,” he teases, shooting Emerson a grin. “We’re gonna have to get really comfortable with how up close and personal this gets.”
Emerson chuckles darkly. “Anything for this.”
Ronan’s gaze finds mine again, that familiar fire sparking brighter. “You think you can handle all of us, Berk?” he asks, voice low and rich. “You want a taste?”
My tongue slips out before I even register the movement, wetting my lips on pure instinct. His eyes catch it like a hawk spotting prey, pupils dark and wide.
“Yeah... you do,” he murmurs, the hunger in his voice enough to make my legs shake. “But first—give us a kiss, baby. We love you.”