Chapter 26
CINDY
I ’m standing at the kitchen island, supposedly reviewing the final guest list for the wedding, but I don’t really care or want to know who is attending. It’s like my mother thinks if she runs it all past me, I’ll somehow care. I don’t. Plus, I can’t focus on a damn thing right now.
My hand trembles as I try to write a note in the margin. The pen skips across the paper, leaving an illegible scrawl because I can’t keep still. Can’t think straight.
It’s been days since my heat ended. Days of slowly coming back to myself, of the fog lifting, of being able to string together coherent thoughts that don’t revolve around need and aching and more .
But apparently my body didn’t get the memo.
The remote-control vibrator Luke convinced me to wear this morning hums to life, and I gasp, gripping the edge of the counter as my knees nearly buckle.
The low, steady pulse presses right against my clit, sending a ripple of pleasure through my core.
It’s not overwhelming, but it’s the kind of sensation that coils deep inside, insistent and slow, like a fuse lit beneath my skin.
My breath catches as my body clenches around nothing, aching for more, my thighs squeezing together in a futile attempt to dull the delicious pressure building with every passing second.
“Luke,” I call out, trying to sound annoyed instead of desperate. “This isn’t fair.”
His laugh comes from somewhere behind me. “You said you’d wear it. I’m just making sure it’s working properly.”
“It’s damn working.” My voice comes out breathless.
The vibration stops, and I sag against the counter, trying to catch my breath. The guest list blurs in front of me. Thirty people. Cousins and Mother’s friends, mostly. A few distant relatives who probably think this whole thing is scandalous.
I don’t care anymore. Three days until the wedding, and all I can think about is the fact that Arrow is at the restaurant and Holt went into town for supplies, and they left me alone with Luke, who hasn’t stopped having a hard-on.
Who apparently woke up today and decided delicious torture was on the agenda. I can’t complain, because I jumped at the chance, so really, am I any better than him?
I touch my neck absently, fingers finding a bite mark there. They’re all healing but still raised, still sensitive. Every time I touch them, they tingle. Like they’re alive. Like the men who put them there are reaching through the marks to remind me I’m theirs.
Claimed.
The thought sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the toy currently nestled inside me.
I can’t imagine my life without them now. It’s only been a month, less than that, really, but the idea of going back to my townhouse, to eating dinner alone, to waking up in an empty bed? It feels impossible. Wrong.
The vibrator kicks on again, stronger this time, and I cry out before I can stop myself.
“Luke!” I spin around, and he’s right there. Leaning against the doorway with that lazy grin, phone in his hand. Remote access.
“What?” He’s the picture of innocence. “Just testing the settings.”
“I’m trying to work.”
“Work.” He says it like it’s a foreign concept. “On what, exactly?”
I wave at the papers scattered across the counter. “The seating chart. Making sure we have enough chairs.”
“Arrow’s got all that handled.” Luke pushes off the doorway, and I watch him cross to me with predatory grace. “You know he made three spreadsheets, right? Color coded. We’re good.”
“Still. I should—” The vibrator pulses in a pattern that makes my knees weak, and I grab the counter again. “Stop that.”
“Make me.” He’s close now.
I’m leaning toward him. “Arrow and Holt will be back soon.”
“That’s okay.” His hand settles on my hip. “And you’re already so worked up. Can see it on your face.”
He’s not wrong. Ever since the heat ended, it’s like my body doesn’t know how to settle. Every touch arouses me. Every glance from one of them leaves me fantasizing about them devouring me. It should be fading by now, shouldn’t it? The lingering effects of the heat?
But if anything, it’s getting worse around my men.
“This is your fault,” I tell him. “You’re the one who suggested I wear this thing.”
“Suggested.” His smile widens. “Pretty sure I dared you and you jumped at the idea.”
I grin evilly.
He adjusts something on his phone, and the vibration changes. Slower. Deeper. “How’s it feel?”
“Like I’m about to melt.”
His free hand comes up to cup my face, and I’m caught between the gentleness of his touch and the relentless sensation between my legs. “You love it.”
“The wedding is in three days,” I say, trying to focus on literally anything else. “We still have so much to do.”
He leans in, nose brushing my temple. “And we also need to ensure all your needs are met. That’s my priority.”
The marks on my neck tingle, and I gasp.
Luke notices. Of course he does. “They’re still sensitive?”
“Yeah.” I touch Holt’s mark, and it’s like I can feel him even though he’s not here. “It’s weird. They keep… reacting.”
“That’s our bond.” Luke’s voice is soft now. Serious. “Part of being marked. You’ll always feel us, even when we’re not around.”
The idea makes me feel safe.
“I can’t imagine not having them anymore,” I admit quietly. “Not having you three.”
His hand moves from my face to my hip, tightening his grip. “Good. Because you’re stuck with us now.”
“What a way to phrase it.”
“You know what I mean.” He pulls back enough to look at me, and his expression is so open it has me swooning. “Contract or no contract, wedding or no wedding—you’re ours now. We’re not letting go.” Something flashes in his eyes. Heat. Possession.
The vibrator kicks into high gear, and my response dissolves into a moan.
I’m grasping his arms now, my fingers digging in. “You’re a tease.”
“Never said I’d play fair.” But he turns it down, just enough that I can breathe again. “Been thinking about you all morning. Can’t focus on anything else.”
He presses closer, and his cock is there. Hard. Straining against his jeans. The bulge is obvious, heavy and thick, and I shudder all over at the promise.
I ignore everything else.
He growls, low and rough, and then his mouth crashes against mine. The kiss steals my breath, his tongue sliding against mine with a hunger that borders on ferity. I cling to his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me upright.
The vibrator is still going, and it feels like it’s synced to my pulse. It drives heat through me, winding tighter, spreading low in my stomach until my whole body trembles. Luke’s chest is solid against mine, his breath harsh.
“Stop teasing me,” I gasp when he breaks the kiss, my lips swollen, my voice wrecked. “I need?—”
His hand drags down my spine, the touch rough enough to make me shiver.
“I’ve been watching you all morning,” he murmurs, his voice dark and low against my ear.
“Watching you try to focus on that damn guest list while your thighs pressed together, while this little toy hummed between your legs. Watching you squirm.”
My breath stutters. “You’re terrible.”
He grins, wicked and sure. “You love it.” He turns me around to face the counter before I can answer, his body crowding mine until my hips press into the counter. His breath ghosts against my neck. “Admit it.”
I don’t have to, as my body betrays me. I arch back against him, the inferno between us unbearable, every nerve ending screaming for him to touch me. My chest heaves at the solid press of him against my ass, thick and hard through his jeans.
His hands find the hem of my skirt, pushing it up, bunching the fabric around my waist. Cool air hits my thighs, and I shiver. Then his fingers hook under the thin elastic of my thong, tugging it down slowly, almost tauntingly. The friction of it sliding over my skin leaves me breathless.
“I need these off,” he growls.
I kick them aside, breath hitching, pulse hammering like it’s trying to escape my chest.
Then Luke’s hand slides between my legs, and the first sweep of touch has me moaning. I’m soaked and aching.
His fingers slip between my folds, touching the toy partly inside me, partly against my clit, his breath shuddering out against my neck.
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Still buzzing.”
He tugs it out gradually, dragging it across every oversensitive nerve. I tremble, whimpering as the slick toy slides free with a wet sound, leaving me hollow and desperate.
Luke lifts it, lets me hear the soft hum before switching it off, and then tosses it onto the counter with a quiet clatter.
“You wore it all morning for me,” he whispers, mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Dripping for hours. And now look at you…”
He spreads my legs open with one hand, then runs his touch between my thighs again. “So fucking ready.”
I can’t even form words. Just a strangled groan as I purr for him.
He curses softly, like he’s fighting for control. Then I hear the sharp rasp of his zipper, the sound electric in the charged air. My pulse jumps.
The next moment, the thick, hot head of his cock presses against my ass, then slides down between my crack. I tilt my hips out, ready.
“Easy,” he murmurs, one hand gripping my waist, the other steadying me against the counter. His voice is rough with restraint. “Let me in slowly, sweetheart. Let me feel you take me.”
But patience isn’t in me anymore. I push back against him, desperate, and his quiet groan tells me I’ve shattered whatever control he had left.
He presses the tip to my entrance and shoves himself in, and the ache is perfect. I’m still tender from the heat, from days of being thoroughly used, but it’s the good kind of ache. The kind that reminds me I’m alive, desired, marked.
“Fuck.” Luke’s voice is wrecked. “I swear your pussy is made of gold. Can’t get over how good you feel.”
I laugh, breathless. “That’s the worst dirty talk.”
“Don’t care.” He pulls back and thrusts again, harder this time. “It’s true. Every time I’m inside you, I think I’m gonna lose my mind.”