Chapter Four #4
His words steal the air right out of my chest. Even with everything burning around us, it’s the one thing that anchors me—the love behind it, the truth woven through his voice, the steadiness I can always count on.
He leans in, brushing his nose against mine in a soft, tender nuzzle that sends a swell of emotion rising fast and uncontrollable. I close my eyes for a moment, letting it wash through me, letting myself feel every bit of it.
I slow my hips just enough to break the rhythm, and glance down at Emerson—his head tilted back, lashes low, his chest rising and falling fast. He looks like he’s barely holding on.
But more than that... he looks at me like I’m something divine.
Like I’m his entire world.
Like I’m theirs.
As if he hears the words forming silently in my head, Emerson says them out loud.
“You’re a goddess, Berkley.”
His voice is low, reverent, and laced with hunger that makes my heart skip.
He reaches up, his hands warm as they caress my breasts, fingers dragging slowly over sensitive skin.
One hand settles at my waist, grounding me, while the other glides upward, wrapping lightly around the front of my throat—not to control, but to connect.
His grip is firm yet careful, guiding me closer until our lips meet in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs.
Not rushed. Not rough. Just firm and full of purpose. He whispers against my lips, “I love you.”
The words hit hard, in the best way. I barely have time to catch my breath before Rowen replaces Emerson’s hand with his own, his body curving around mine like he was made to fit. He stretches my neck with a gentle pull, so I’m looking up and back at him.
Rowen smiles, impossibly soft for a moment like this, and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose before brushing his lips across mine in a slow, upside-down kiss that steals every coherent thought I have left.
“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth, and my chest aches with how much I feel it.
He eases me back toward Emerson, a quiet hand guiding me as they begin again—their touches slow, knowing, and perfectly in sync.
“Such a good girl,” Ronan murmurs from the side, his voice like velvet over flame. He cups my cheek and brings my mouth to his. His kiss is deep, controlled, each stroke of his tongue drawing me deeper into his world.
When I nod breathlessly, he pulls back just enough to search my eyes. I can feel the question before he even speaks.
“You ready for me?”
Another nod.
But he hasn’t moved just yet. His gaze flickers, something cautious dancing behind the desire. “Okay, this might be a little personal, and I don’t know if I want to hear the answer but...” His voice dips with hesitation. “Have you ever done this before?”
The room stills.
All three of them tense. Their anticipation turns into something quieter, fragile.
I give him a soft, knowing smile. “No,” I say honestly. “You guys are my first everything.”
The moment I finish speaking, a single, primal sound rises from them, one collective growl rolling through the room like a storm clapping thunder.
Ronan’s eyes darken, and a sound rumbles deep in his chest as he curls a hand around the back of my neck, fingers sinking tightly into my hair. “That’s the right answer,” he whispers, brushing his thumb across my lower lip.
I open my mouth without hesitation, giving him everything he silently asks for—and the look on his face as I do is something I’ll never forget.
His eyes flutter for a second, jaw clenched as he exhales a sharp curse. “Jesus... Berk.”
And in that moment, I’ve never felt more powerful. More adored. More theirs.
I may not have experience, but I’ve read enough to know what I want.
And the moment I hum around him in pleasure, Ronan curses under his breath—low and ragged.
The sound sends a chain reaction through all of them, their bodies tightening, their breathing turning to growls and gasps as tension climbs faster.
Emerson pulls me tighter against him, holding me firmly, his muscles locked as he shifts beneath me—just enough to grind upward at the perfect angle. The pressure hits a spot that sends my vision spinning, a spark striking deep in my core.
Rowen’s hands grip my hips, then glide lower, squeezing and molding me like he’s desperate to feel every part of me. He pulls me back into him, adding pressure that only intensifies the friction building between us.
Ronan senses everything—every twitch, every breath—and gently guides me deeper, not out of control, but out of instinct. Because he knows I can take it. Because I want to.
Emerson shifts again, his hips tilting just right, and the second his body presses against that aching spot with purpose, it detonates something inside me.
My release hits hard and fast, stars flashing behind my eyes. If Ronan weren’t so deeply anchored, muffling my cry, the entire neighborhood might’ve heard me come undone.
Emerson groans against my skin, burying his face in my neck as his own body shudders with release, the heat spreading between us, shared and shameless.
Behind me, Rowen presses forward, breath stuttering, hips moving in a desperate rhythm until a broken sound escapes him. The warmth of his release lands across my lower back, hot and lingering.
He doesn’t rush. Instead, one hand traces over the mess he’s left behind, dragging his fingers slowly through it like he’s branding me—marking the moment, the connection, the claim.
Then, gently, reverently, he leans forward and presses a kiss between my shoulder blades. A silent promise. A quiet, I’m yours.
Ronan’s grip tightens gently in my hair, grounding us both with the intensity of the moment. I’m grateful I can breathe through my nose, because the need—mine and his—is thick in the air between us. I want to give him everything, and from the way he groans, I am.
A shocked gasp escapes him when my tongue drags slowly along the underside, a tremor rolling through his body. The moment I add pressure, he’s gone—his breath catches, and then he’s unraveling, low curses spilling from his lips.
“Berk... fuuuck...” he rasps, his voice frayed at the edges. His fingers flex in my hair, not harsh—just holding on as he falls apart, his body jerking once before he finally lets go completely.
When it’s over, his touch softens, trailing through my hair like a thank you. He exhales hard, like I just pulled the air straight from his lungs, and leans back with a look that makes my heart ache in the best way.
“You almost killed me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded, heavy with satisfaction. “Seriously, you’re dangerous.”
I grin up at him, flushed and breathless, and his gaze softens even more, like I’ve hung the stars just for him.
Behind me, Rowen is still close, steady and quiet, his presence constant. His hands are warm as he guides me back onto the couch, helping me settle among them. My body is spent, my skin still buzzing, and every part of me feels held—touched, loved, claimed.
We collapse together in a tangle of limbs and soft laughter, breathless and flushed, recovering from the most intense moment of my life.
And as I lie there, cocooned in warmth and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats, I know one thing for sure:
If this is what being theirs feels like... I never want to leave.