22. Kozue #2
He and Ronan followed her across the suite, through the doorway into the spacious, slate-tiled bathroom.
But she didn't hesitate. Her fingers went to the hem of her simple dress, pulling it up and over her head in one fluid motion.
Then she shed her lace bra and panties with quick movements, and stood there for a heartbeat, backlit by the soft vanity lights.
She was all lean muscle and soft curves, the twin mate marks on her neck a dark, beautiful claim against her sun-kissed skin.
Kozue's breath hitched at the sight of his beautiful mate, and beside him, he heard the sharp intake of Ronan's breath.
His own clothes became an unbearable barrier.
He tore at the buttons of his henley, his movements uncharacteristically hurried, while Ronan yanked his sweater over his head.
Jeans and boxers were shoved down, kicked aside in a tangle of fabric.
Within moments, they stood as bare as she was, two powerful warriors laid utterly vulnerable by their need for one woman.
Sloane had already stepped into the sunken jacuzzi tub, a massive stone basin built for relaxation—or for this. She turned the taps and the thunder of filling water echoed in the tiled room, and with a click, she activated the jets, the water churning to life.
Kozue followed her in, the first touch of the heated water a shock that melted into bliss.
It wasn't just warmth; it was a sensory erasure of every residual tension—the strain of the battle, the weight of leadership, the old fear of being an afterthought.
It all dissolved as he sank into the water across from her.
Then Ronan settled beside him, a solid, reassuring presence, and he turned off the taps.
Sloane leaned back against the smooth stone wall, her head tilting back as the powerful jets pummeled her lower back. A long, loud sigh of pure contentment escaped her lips. "I think tonight was a success," she murmured, her eyes drifting closed. "I can picture every Monday being like that."
"It will be," Ronan stated, his voice echoing softly off the tiled walls. "Our new tradition. I'm glad you suggested it. Seeing them all together… it's what we rebuilt this place for."
Kozue watched a droplet of water trace a path from Sloane's neck down her chest. "It was nice," he said, his own voice rough. "Seeing the pack enjoy what we fight for. Not just defend, but actually… live in it."
Sloane's eyes opened, and she fixed him with a look that was pure, smoldering heat. "Well," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I think we deserve a little celebration of our own now."
She didn't need to elaborate. Kozue was moving before the last word faded, cutting through the churning water.
He reached her just as Ronan did from the other side.
His hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as he captured her mouth in a searing kiss.
It was all claiming and devotion, his tongue sliding against hers, tasting the promise on her lips.
As he kissed her, he felt Ronan's mouth on her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin near her mate mark.
Kozue's free hand slid beneath the bubbling surface, his palm finding the full weight of her breast, and his thumb circled a taut nipple until she gasped into his mouth.
At the same time, he felt the water shift as Ronan's hand found its way between her thighs, and the moan that tore from Sloane's throat was swallowed by Kozue's kiss.
He felt her pleasure spiking through the bond, a bright, sharp current that fed his own, and his cock hardened painfully against his stomach.
"Kozue," she panted against his lips. "I need you now."
Ronan pulled back, giving them space, his blue eyes dark and watchful.
But Kozue didn't need telling twice. He moved back to sit on the built-in bench, the jets pulsing against his back as he guided her to straddle him, her thighs framing his hips.
Then she sank down onto his cock in one slow, breathtaking slide, taking every hard inch until she was fully seated, her body trembling with restraint.
A guttural groan was ripped from his chest from the sensation of her tight heat around his thick cock.
She began to move, finding a rhythm that was both desperate and perfectly controlled.
But her gaze flicked to Ronan, who had moved closer, and she reached out, her hand closing around Ronan's cock beneath the water.
Then she began stroking him in time with her rises and falls on Kozue's cock.
The sensation was overwhelming. The tight, wet heat of her surrounding him, the visual of her pleasuring Ronan, and the cascading feedback of pleasure through the bond—it was a circuit with no beginning and no end.
He thrust up to meet her, his hands gripping her hips, driving deeper as he felt her climax coiling.
"That's it," he growled, his voice barely recognizable. "Come for me."
Her inner muscles clamped around him like a vise, milking his cock as her orgasm crashed over her with violent force.
Her head fell back and a ragged cry echoed off the tiles.
The intense, rhythmic clenching pushed him over the edge, and his own release tore through him, blinding and brutal as he emptied himself inside her with a final thrust.
But before the last tremor had even faded, Ronan's hands were on her. He lifted her from Kozue's lap with a smooth, possessive strength and turned her, bending her over the wide, flat edge of the jacuzzi. Then Ronan positioned himself behind her and drove home in one powerful stroke.
Kozue, still breathing hard, watched the scene unfold.
The sight of Ronan claiming their mate, the powerful muscles of his back and thighs working, Sloane's cries of pleasure—it stoked a fire in him he thought was just spent.
His hand moved of its own volition, wrapping around his own re-hardened cock, stroking in time with Ronan's primal pace.
But he wasn't just watching; he was in it.
Through the bond, he felt the rough, blissful friction Ronan experienced, and the desperate, building tension in Sloane's core.
Their pleasure became his, a dizzying, triple-layered ecstasy that had him panting.
Sloane's second scream was louder, more shattered, and her body bowed as Ronan followed up with a raw, guttural groan.
His thrusts became erratic before he stilled and buried deep.
The wave of their shared climax crashed through Kozue a final time, wringing a second release from him as he spilled over his own fist.
For long minutes, the only sounds were the churn of the jets and their ragged breathing. Finally, Ronan helped a boneless Sloane upright and out of the jacuzzi, and Kozue stood on shaky legs, grabbing a thick towel and wrapping it around her.
Ronan led the way out of the bathroom, and he soon paused by the massive four-poster bed. "What do you say," he began, his voice rough with spent passion, "this suite becomes our suite now?"
Kozue felt a jolt of surprise, followed immediately by a rightness that settled deep in his bones. Sharing a space, a true den, not just stolen nights. It was the logical, beautiful conclusion to everything they'd just vowed.
"That sounds reasonable," Kozue said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Sloane tilted her head up, her eyes sated and full of love, meeting each of theirs in turn. "No," she corrected softly, her voice thick with emotion. "That sounds absolutely perfect."
They dried off their wet bodies, the simple domesticity of the act somehow more intimate than what had come before, and then they climbed into the wide bed.
Sloane settled in the center, and Kozue curled around her back, his arm draped over her waist, while Ronan lay facing her on the other side.
Their legs tangled, their breaths synced, and the triad bond hummed with a peaceful resonance that made Kozue fall into the deepest sleep of his life.