Chapter Four #2
He smiles back, but then his expression shifts into something more serious.
“Do you know how hard it’s been?” he asks quietly.
“Watching other guys flirt with you. Some of them friends. Some who knew better. Acting like you were just another pretty girl when they didn’t see you the way we do. The way I do.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“I wanted to step in,” he admits. “More times than I can count. But I didn’t want to scare you.
You always looked uncomfortable—still polite, even when you wanted to disappear.
I saw that, Berk. I felt it.” He squeezes my hand, gentle and sure.
“And I hated pretending I didn’t care. Hated acting like you weren’t everything. ”
Before I can speak, Ronan cuts in, moving closer until his body presses against mine from shoulder to knee.
“I don’t have Rowen’s patience,” he admits with a crooked grin.
“Every time some guy tried flirting with you, I had to physically stop myself from dragging him out of the room by his shirt.” His smile fades, replaced by a tenderness that hits like a punch to the chest. “But honestly... every time someone looked at you like you were something they could claim? Something they had a right to touch. I wanted to lose it. They didn’t deserve to look at you that way.
You’re not a prize. Not some conquest. You’re.
.. you. And you’re ours. I love you, Berk. I have for a long time.”
I blink hard, fighting the burn of tears from their confessions.
Then Emerson shifts just slightly, enough to pull my attention fully to him.
His voice comes quietly, but the weight behind it is anything but soft.
“I couldn’t even pretend to handle it,” he says.
“I’d have to walk away, watching wasn’t something I could handle.
Couldn’t be in the same room.” His eyes lock onto mine with a force that steals my breath.
“I didn’t have the luxury of making a scene.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t screaming inside every time some guy thought he could charm you.
Like you’d fall for the first idiot who knew how to wink and flex at the same time.
No chance I was letting someone like that steal you when I’ve loved you for so long. ”
A laugh slips out of me, even though my eyes are full of tears.
“We’ve all loved you for a long time, Berk,” Rowen says, his tone steady and unguarded. “Quietly. Patiently. In silence. But not anymore.”
“Now we’re going to show you,” Ronan adds, picking up the thread without missing a beat as they draw closer still.
“Every day,” Emerson finishes, voice low with certainty. “With every look, every touch, every breath. You’re ours, Berk. And we’re yours.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, meeting each of their eyes. “All of you.”
They move together, surrounding me in a way that feels instinctive, like wolves closing in, not to devour, but to claim. To protect. To cherish.
Their hands roam my skin, slow and deliberate, like they’ve been waiting years for this moment. Maybe they have. There’s hunger in the way they touch me, yes, but something deeper threads through it. Devotion. Possession. A kind of reverence that sends heat spiraling through my veins.
Emerson’s lips trail along my neck, warm breath grazing my skin.
Then a gentle lick—just a quick stroke of heat—before he presses a slow, lingering kiss beneath my jaw.
“We’re going to go slow with you,” he murmurs, his voice a low curl of smoke.
“No rushing. No sex. Not yet. But we’re still going to take care of you. Does that sound okay?”
I can’t speak. I whimper, nodding like I’ll die if they stop touching me.
Rowen’s hand tilts my chin gently, his voice a pure velvet command. “Come on, baby. Use your words.”
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely recognizing my voice. “I want you. All of you. Now.”
I’ve never felt like this. Never been so seen, so surrounded, so wanted. Every breath they take is heavy with need, every look full of longing, and all of it focused on me.
My skin tingles. Heart pounds. My body is practically humming, flushed and aching under their attention.
“That’s our good girl,” Ronan purrs against my ear, the words wrapping around me like silk before he grazes my earlobe with his teeth, making me shiver in the best way possible.
“Do we have permission to touch you here?” he asks, his palm gliding over the curve of my backside—slow at first, almost teasing.
Then he gives a firm squeeze, groaning low in his throat like just that simple contact does something to him.
“Yes,” I breathe, barely holding myself together. “Please.”
“How about here?” Rowen murmurs, his voice low and full of heat as he slips his hand beneath my shirt.
His palm curves around one of my breasts, thumb grazing the sensitive peak as I arch into his touch.
A second later, Ronan mirrors the motion on the other side, his other hand still lazily caressing my lower back, fingers teasing just above the curve of my ass.
My breath catches, a soft gasp escaping before my voice turns thick, needy. “Yes,” I whisper, barely able to contain the shiver rolling through me. “Please... touch me.”
Then comes Emerson—his voice gravelly, roughened with restraint and something darker.
“And how about here?” he growls, the words brushing my ear like a challenge as his hand slides past the waistband of my leggings.
He presses his palm against my heat, separated only by the thin barrier of my panties.
The contact is slow, deliberate.
My hips jerk, a soft sound escaping me—half moan, half plea.
They’re not just touching me.
They’re claiming every inch they find.
“Yes, Em... please.” My voice is breathless now, raw with need. I’m not even pretending to be composed. We’re way past that.
Emerson doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away—not for a second. His gaze holds mine as he drags a finger slowly across the damp fabric between my legs, tracing every contour with aching precision. The heat in his eyes nearly undoes me.
Behind me, Ronan and Rowen’s hands are everywhere—exploring, learning, worshipping.
One of them slips my bra strap off my shoulder, then the clasp gives way with a soft snap.
My shirt’s gone before I notice, pulled over my head and tossed aside.
Their palms trail down my bare back, slipping beneath the band of my panties, fingers brushing along the soft curves there.
They aren’t rushed. They savor.
Every touch is deliberate.
Every groan that rumbles in their chests presses deeper into my skin than their hands ever could.
Their hands cradle my breasts with a reverence that makes me tremble, like they’ve always known exactly how to hold me. Their fingertips graze over sensitive skin, and I shudder at the feel of it all—at the way my body responds to each of them, together.
“You need more, don’t you?” Emerson’s voice grits against my ear, low and full of gravel and heat. “You going to let me slide my fingers inside this pretty, perfect pussy?”
Goosebumps race across every inch of me. I can’t breathe, can’t think. I can only feel.
“Touch me,” I whisper. “You don’t need to ask. You already have me. I’m yours. All of me. Please.”
That’s when Ronan growls behind me, his fingers hooking under my chin as he turns my face toward him.
“That’s permission enough for me,” he says, then crushes his mouth to mine, devouring every shaky breath I try to take.
His kiss is fierce—claiming and confident.
His hands are wicked as they roam my sides, tugging the rest of my clothes away until my top is exposed to all three of them.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes darken as they drop to my chest. “Damn, Berk...” His voice is thick, and reverent.
“Even better than I imagined. And trust me—I imagined a lot.”
Before I can tease him, his mouth is on mine again, swallowing the moan that slips free as his hand cups me possessively. He pulls me flush against his body, grinding into me with a rough groan that vibrates through both of us, his arousal pressing heavy against me.
I’m drowning in them—in their touches, their words, their heat.
And for the first time in my life... I don’t want to come up for air.
Emerson pauses, his hand sliding slowly out of my leggings, the sudden absence making me whimper against Ronan’s lips. The sound is embarrassingly desperate—and not at all subtle.
He chuckles, low and satisfied. “Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Let me get these out of the way.”
Before I can respond, my leggings and underwear are peeled down and tossed aside with the rest of my clothes, leaving me exposed under their collective gaze. The moment is thick with heat—charged, electric, like the very air is waiting for something to ignite.
Emerson’s touch returns, this time against my bare skin, his fingers gliding over the soft heat of me. We both groan, caught in the shock of that unfiltered contact. He strokes slowly, purposefully, finding a rhythm that makes my head drop back, lips parted.
“There you go,” he breathes against my neck. “Just like that.”
He kisses the spot where my pulse flutters—soft and warm, a contrast to the fire building under my skin—while Ronan still claims my mouth with his own, refusing to let me pull away, as if the taste of my sounds is something he can’t get enough of.
“Rowen...” I whimper, eyes closed, not able to see him, only feel him—his presence like gravity behind me.
“I’m here,” he answers quietly, and the heat in his voice makes my breath hitch. “You’re so beautiful... I can’t stop watching you.”
Something about that makes me wild. The thought that he’s just out of sight, watching his brothers touch me, move around me, love me—that he’s enjoying it—sends a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through me.
Emerson must feel it, because his breath catches and he groans, fingers slowing just enough to tease.