29. Grace
29
GRACE
I pace back and forth, my breath uneven, my lungs tight. God, what have I done? I let my emotions take over, but I couldn’t just sit there and let them keep disrespecting Ash. Disrespecting me.
My hands shake as I press them against my face, inhaling deeply. I’ve probably ruined everything. What if this was too much? What if?—
The restaurant doors swing open.
My head snaps up.
Ash.
He moves with purpose, his long strides eating up the distance between us, his jaw clenched, eyes burning. My stomach knots, my breath tangling in my throat.
I brace myself for anger, for frustration, but when he reaches me, there’s none of that.
Instead, he cups my face, his touch firm, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with something dangerously close to reverence.
“Ash, I?—”
His mouth crashes against mine.
The air between us ignites, sparking into something raw and consuming. His lips claim me, fierce and unrelenting, and his hands dive into my hair like he needs me closer, like he needs to feel every inch of me pressed against him.
A low sound rumbles in his chest, vibrating through me.
I clutch at his sweater, fisting the soft fabric, anchoring myself. Needing him just as much—maybe more.
He pulls back just enough, his breath hot against my lips.
“I love you.”
His voice is rough, almost guttural.
“I love you, Grace. And I am so damn sorry for what they said. I will never—never—put you in a position like that again.”
“I love you too, Ash.”
He grips my jaw, fingers pressing into my skin, and crashes his mouth to mine, and swallowing my words whole.
The world explodes.
It’s fire and hunger, sharp teeth and clashing tongues, a desperate claiming that leaves no space for hesitation. His growl vibrates through my chest, a primal sound that speaks to something buried deep inside me.
My body responds instinctively, heat flooding my veins, a whimper slipping from my lips as I clutch at him.
His hands roam—gripping, pulling, possessive. One fists in my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp, baring my throat to him. He drags his teeth along my pulse point, his breath scorching against my skin.
“You’re mine,” he rasps, voice low, guttural, raw.
“Yes,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, my body arching into him.
Something in him snaps.
He lifts me effortlessly, pressing me against the car, his body flush against mine, hard and unyielding. My legs wrap around his waist as his hips grind into me, the thick, rigid proof of his desire making me dizzy.
“Ash,” I breathe, but it’s barely a sound.
He growls again, his hands gripping my thighs, his fingers digging in as he rocks against me. The friction sends shockwaves through me, tightening the coil of need low in my belly.
“Inside,” he commands, voice dark with need.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He yanks the door open, slides inside, pulling me with him until I’m straddling him in the back seat.
Heat engulfs us, the space too small, the air thick with the scent of desire. His hands roam my body, greedy and impatient, like he’s mapping every inch of me, memorizing me.
He yanks my dress over my head, his eyes devouring every newly exposed inch of skin.
“Perfect,” he growls, his mouth descending to my collarbone, kissing, biting, marking.
I move against him, desperate for more, desperate for him. My nails rake down his back, his answering groan sending a fresh wave of arousal through me.
“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his fingers gripping my hips, dragging me closer, harder.
I meet his gaze. My breath comes in ragged pants. “I don’t just want it.” My voice is thick. “I need it. I need you.”
Something dark and satisfied flashes in his eyes before his lips crash into mine again, stealing my breath, stealing everything.
And then he takes me.
He’s feral. Unrelenting.
Every touch, every movement, every bite is pure possession, a claiming that has nothing to do with words and everything to do with instinct. He moves like a man starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever and won’t waste a single second.
The car rocks with our urgency, the windows fogging, the scent of us filling the space. His hands never stop moving, gripping, holding, dragging me deeper into the storm of him.
I match his hunger, meeting him stroke for stroke, our bodies locked in a rhythm as old as time itself.
My fingers clutch at him, nails raking, lips devouring. Every gasp, every moan, every broken whisper of his name is swallowed by the heat between us.
“Ash,” I cry out, my body bowing, tightening, shattering.
He follows, a low, guttural sound torn from his throat, his grip on me bruising as he buries his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
For a long moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing, the air between us thick, pulsing with everything we just shared.
His knot is locked within me, throbbing with the aftershocks of the pleasure we just shared. I can feel the warmth of his release, can smell my own slick, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t trade anything for what I just experienced.
His forehead presses to mine, his hands still gripping my hips like he’s not ready to let me go.
He exhales, his breath shaky, his voice hoarse. “You’re mine.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across my lips. I drag my fingers through his damp hair, tilting his face to mine, pressing a lingering kiss to his swollen lips.
“Yours,” I whisper.
The possessive gleam in his eyes sends another thrill through me. He captures my mouth again, slower this time, but just as intense.
“Again,” he murmurs against my lips.
And just like that, the fire reignites.
He captures my mouth again, kissing me deep and slow, like he wants to draw every breath from my lungs. The heat builds, tension coiling, threatening to snap?—
A noise outside jerks us both back to reality.
His thumb brushes over my mouth, his smirk slow, wicked. “Now what?”
I smile, my lips curving with something just as sinful. “Let’s go find the guys.” I lean in, my voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Then maybe later, we pick up where we left off.”
His chuckle is dark, promising. “I like the way you think.”
He glances down at the link between us.
“I, um… we’ll need to wait a few minutes before we can leave.”
I laugh and rest my body against his, enjoying the special connection, the tugging of the bond that makes the knot possible.
Finally, I feel him slip loose. I feel the regret I always feel when the knot is gone.
With one last searing kiss, we get dressed and straighten ourselves, laughter mingling with the still-smoldering heat between us as he helps me back to the passenger’s seat.
And just like that, everything feels right.
* * *
The moment I step into Jake’s house, the scent of something warm and savory fills the air, but I don’t have a second to register it before both Jake and Rowan snap their heads toward me, game controllers in their hands.
Their eyes lock onto me like heat-seeking missiles, and my body, still thrumming with the aftershocks of Ash’s touch, feels too exposed under their gazes.
Jake’s nose twitches, and he smirks. “You smell like sex.”
My face burns, but a giggle slips past my lips before I can stop it.
That’s all it takes.
The game they were playing is instantly abandoned, controllers forgotten as they push up from the couch and rush toward me.
Jake reaches me first, hands warm as they settle on my waist, pulling me flush against him. Rowan follows right behind, his knuckles brushing over my cheek, his emerald eyes scanning me like he’s searching for something.
“What the hell happened?” Rowan demands, voice low, cautious.
Before I can answer, Ash steps in behind me, his presence grounding. “My family happened,” he mutters, his jaw tight. “They were assholes.”
Jake’s fingers flex on my waist, his entire body going rigid. “Did they touch you?” His voice is deceptively calm, but there’s an edge to it, one that makes me shiver.
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “They just used words to hurt me.”
Rowan exhales sharply, tension rolling off him in waves. He looks like he has a lot to say, but when his gaze flicks to Ash, then back to me, he just asks, “Did you eat?”
Ash and I exchange a look, and that’s answer enough.
Jake groans. “Of course not.”
Rowan mutters a curse and turns toward the oven, grabbing a dish covered in foil. “I made lasagna,” he says proudly, sliding it onto the counter. “I’ll heat it up.”
Jake’s hands don’t leave me. He strokes slow, reassuring circles against my lower back, his warmth seeping into me.
Every so often, his fingers tighten, like he just needs to feel me. “You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. And then, because I don’t want to lose my nerve, I take a steadying breath and say, “Actually… there’s something I wanted to ask.”
Ash tilts his head, eyes dark and assessing. “Go ahead.”
I swallow hard, heart thudding so loudly I swear they can hear it. “I want you to mark me.” My voice is steady, despite the butterflies rioting in my stomach. “All of you.”
The reaction is instant.
Rowan drops the knife he was holding. It clatters onto the counter, the sharp sound making Jake jolt.
Ash’s grip on me tightens. “Grace…”
I hold their gazes, determined. “The thing with Liam at the market? That wouldn’t have happened if I belonged to you—if people knew. Sure, some of the locals have noticed, but it’s not enough.”
I inhale deeply, pushing through the swirl of emotions in my chest.
“But this isn’t just about safety. I know, without a doubt, that this is the right move. I love you… all of you.”
Jake is the first to move. He cups my face, fingers threading into my hair, and then his lips crash into mine—fierce, claiming, a kiss that steals the breath right from my lungs.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm.
“I love you too,” he murmurs.
Rowan runs a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Of course I love you,” he says gruffly. “I’m just… shocked, sweetheart.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Is it that surprising?”
Rowan lets out a short chuckle before his hands find my hips, pulling me into a slow, deep kiss.
I press a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart against my fingertips. “I’ll have to see Dr. Avery tomorrow,” I add. “To see about coming off my birth control, but for tonight…” I trail off, my meaning clear.
Rowan exhales, shaking his head with a small smile. Instead of heating the food, he slides it into the fridge. “That can wait.” He turns to face me fully, his expression unreadable. “How much do you actually know about marking?”
I hesitate. “Not much.”
Jake sighs, rubbing his temple. “Then we need to explain it first.”
They guide me to the couch, and I end up in Ash’s lap, his arms looping around me like it’s second nature. I lean into him, my body fitting against his perfectly, and a sudden thought strikes me.
When am I ever not on one of them?
Rowan crouches in front of me, hands bracketing my knees. “Marking isn’t just a bite, Grace. It’s permanent. It bonds us.”
Jake’s fingers skim up my arm. “You’re talking about taking three mating bonds, all at once.” His thumb brushes the sensitive skin of my wrist. “You sure you’re ready for that?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
Silence falls between us. A weighty, electric kind of silence.
The men exchange glances, something unspoken passing between them.
Finally, Ash exhales, pressing a lingering kiss to my shoulder. “Jake, grab some water,” he says. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
The moment we step into Jake’s bedroom, my body hums with anticipation, my skin already burning from their heated gazes.
Jake runs a hand down my arm, his touch light but deliberate. “Last chance, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “If you want to stop, we’ll respect that.”
Rowan stands beside him, his jaw tight, his amber eyes dark with hunger. “No pressure,” he adds, but his voice is hoarse, his need barely contained.
Ash watches me closely, the silent protector, the one who sees through me even when I try to hide.
But there’s no hesitation in me now. I meet their eyes, one by one, before reaching out, cupping Rowan’s hardening length through his jeans.
“I’m ready.”
My voice is firm, steady, even as my heart pounds.
“I want this. I want you.”
The shift is immediate. A growl rumbles from deep within Rowan’s chest, and Jake grips my chin, tilting my head up before crushing his lips against mine.
Ash’s hands slide down my waist, fingers digging in possessively. Their energy surrounds me, an intoxicating mix of power and hunger.
I barely register them peeling away my clothes, hands exploring, stroking, igniting. I’m not even sure whose touch is whose, and I don’t care. All I know is that I am being consumed, worshipped.
They lower me onto the bed, my skin flushed, my breath shallow.
Ash’s voice is rough. “Who’s first?”
Rowan steps back, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off the tension. “Jake.” His voice is tight. “I want Jake to start.”
Jake grins, a little cocky, a lot hungry. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
His hands trail down my body, teasing, exploring, as Rowan shifts lower, spreading my thighs with his strong hands.
The moment his mouth finds me, heat shatters through my body, pleasure coiling low in my stomach. I cry out, grasping at the sheets, but Ash is there, his lips finding mine, swallowing my moans.
Jake strokes my cheek, his gaze heated. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers before trailing kisses down my jaw, my neck, over the spot where his mark will go.
The thought sends another wave of heat crashing over me. I want this—I want to be theirs.
And as Jake moves over me, pressing inside of me, his name falls from my lips, my body arching, stretching, taking all of him.
He moves with purpose, slow but deep, his hand gripping my hip to keep me steady. I clutch at his shoulders, holding on as he claims me, as the pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher.
Rowan strokes my hair, watching with hooded eyes. “When he knots you, it’ll be intense,” he warns, his voice strained.
Jake groans, his body tensing, his grip tightening. “Almost there, sweetheart.”
And then it happens—his knot swells, locking us together, sealing the bond. A rush of warmth spreads through me, deeper than pleasure. Jake’s teeth sink into the curve of my shoulder, marking me, claiming me, and the bond snaps into place with a surge of undeniable rightness.
My body trembles from the aftershocks, my mind hazy with pleasure and something more—something permanent. Jake presses soft kisses over the fresh mark, his breath warm against my skin.
Ash and Rowan exchange a look, their hunger barely restrained.
Jake grins lazily. “One down.”
And I know the night is far from over.
The bond thrums between us, pulsing like a second heartbeat. I’m barely aware of anything but Jake—his warmth, his breath against my skin, the way his body remains locked with mine, anchoring me in this moment.
Every slight movement sends another ripple of sensation through me, keeping me on the edge, strung tight.
Rowan strokes a hand down my arm, his touch grounding me. “How does it feel?” His voice is thick, edged with need.
I try to answer, but all I manage is a soft whimper, my body still thrumming from the aftermath. The knot holds us together, unyielding, a reminder that I belong to him now in a way that can’t be undone.
Jake chuckles, low and satisfied, brushing a kiss against my temple. “Perfect,” he murmurs. “She’s perfect.”
Ash moves beside me, his fingers grazing my heated skin, his lips pressing against my shoulder. “Your scent’s changing,” he breathes, the words tinged with something almost reverent.
I don’t have time to process what that means before another wave of sensation rolls through me. My body clenches involuntarily, as if it already knows what’s coming, as if it’s waiting for the next claim.
Jake groans. “Damn, she’s already reacting.” His fingers tighten on my waist, a mix of possession and restraint. “Almost there, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”
Minutes stretch, every second charged. The three of them are close, their energy wrapping around me, their hunger pressing in, thick and intoxicating.
I can feel it—this unspoken connection, this need for more.
Finally, the knot begins to ease. Jake exhales, his grip loosening just enough to shift, to press one last kiss to my shoulder before he pulls away.
The loss is immediate, sharp, but it lasts only a second before Rowan is there, his hand curling around my jaw, tilting my face to meet his.
His eyes are dark, burning. “My turn.”
A shiver runs through me—anticipation, need, and again, something deeper. My breath stutters, my body already primed, already desperate.
And then he kisses me, and the world falls away.