Chapter 12
Tamsin
My entire world became just heat and breath and hands.
I was acutely aware of my body in a way that made thought slippery and distant. My every nerve was lit up, every inch of skin too sensitive, too awake. The bond thrummed through me, loud and demanding now, no longer content to hum quietly in the background.
I wanted them.
All of them.
The realization hit hard enough to steal my breath away. I’d kept my heat locked away while I bandaged wounds and took care of the injured, but now it had come back with the fury of a category five hurricane.
Elias’s gaze held mine, dark and calm, and something in me folded at the quiet authority there. There was no rushing or crowding me. He simply waited, and the waiting itself made my pulse stutter.
I arched without meaning to, a soft sound slipping free before I could stop it.
Griff’s hands were everywhere all at once, holding me in place even as my body strained toward more. His voice was rasping against my ear, reminding me I didn’t have to think, I didn’t have to lead, and I didn’t have to hold anything together anymore.
Bishop’s touch was intentional, making every brush of his fingers feel like it meant something important, like he was choosing me again and again with each caress on my skin. It made my chest ache in the best way.
Eamon’s presence soothed and unmade me all at once, with his gentle words and careful hands. His hand cupped my cheek, and I pressed back against his palm.
Nox watched me like he knew exactly how close to the edge I was, as though he was daring me to fall and promising to catch me when I did. His mouth curved with that knowing smile, and when he leaned close, his voice dipped just enough to make my knees weak.
I couldn’t stop trembling.
I didn’t want to.
The heat surged, much louder and more demanding now, tearing away the last of my careful composure. I reached for them blindly, fingers clutching at fabric and skin, needing to feel them, to be surrounded, to be claimed.
To come undone.
“I can’t—” I breathed. “I don’t want to think.”
“You don’t have to,” Elias said quietly.
“Good,” I whispered.
After that, there was nothing but sensation.
The way Elias’s voice wrapped around me like velvet and steel, a quiet command that needed no volume to land.
The way Griff held me, big and warm and steady, one hand splayed against my lower back, a forever promise of his protection.
The way Bishop’s lips found the corner of my jaw, featherlight…
The way Eamon’s fingers ghosted over my pulse points—my wrist, my neck, the inside of my thigh—as if mapping the places I felt too much, and Nox, smiling wickedly as his breath and his tongue dragged across the shell of my ear.
“You smell so ready for us, sweetheart,” he murmured deviously.
I shivered, the sound flooding me with want.
I was surrounded. Touched without being taken. Held without being consumed.
And still, the fire burned.
My hips shifted on instinct, seeking friction, seeking each one of them, every breath drawn tight through my nose as I tried to hold onto the last threads of composure I didn’t really want to keep.
“She’s trembling,” Eamon said softly, like he was both concerned and awed.
“She’s barely holding on,” Griff added, and I felt him press his lips to the side of my neck. “Aren’t you, Tam?”
I couldn’t answer. I moaned instead.
Bishop leaned in close, his voice like silk against my cheek. “Let go, little one. Let us have you.”
The endearment hit something deep and old inside me. I whimpered again, and one of them—Griff, I think—tightened his grip just slightly in my hair, causing a flare of pain and pleasure to ricochet through me.
“You’ve been so strong,” Elias said near my ear. “Now you’re ours.”
And I was. I felt it every place they touched me, in every look they gave, in the way the bond wound through all six of us, tangled and hot and alive. There was no question anymore. No fear.
Only this.
Only them.
Their mouths found me in turns. Soft kisses, hungry ones, claiming ones. My skin was mapped inch by inch, hands sliding beneath fabric, heat building with every brush and stroke. I felt like I was being adored and devoured all at once.
I didn’t know whose hand it was in my hair when my head tipped back.
Didn’t know whose voice it was that whispered, “Beautiful.”
Didn’t care.
I let them touch me. Let them murmur. Let them take me down, piece by piece, until I forgot what it was like to hold anything together. Until I was breathless, flushed, and open beneath them.
Until I was nothing but theirs.
Bishop lifted my hand and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my palm. The sight of it made me dizzy. The feel of it made me gasp.
“Breathe, sweet thing,” Nox purred, and I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he said it. My chest shook with the exhale, and with it, more of myself gave way.
Griff’s hands traced the curve of my waist beneath my shirt, thumbs brushing just under the band of my bra. “She’s so sensitive here.”
“Everywhere,” Eamon countered, “she’s sensitive everywhere now.” His fingers ghosted over my collarbone, and I arched into his touch, body chasing more without my permission.
That pulled a dark chuckle from Nox. “That’s our girl.”
My cheeks burned. I tried to turn my face away, but Bishop’s hands were there, gentle and firm, turning me back. “No hiding, Tam. Not from us. Not ever.”
He was right.
I was past the point of hiding.
I reached for him, pulling him down into a kiss that was messy and desperate and everything I hadn’t let myself want until now. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I was gone, drowning, lost to the taste of him and the press of his body against mine.
When he pulled back, my shirt was gone.
I blinked, confused for a moment, my mind too foggy with need to process how it had happened.
Then I saw Griff’s hands, the fabric of my shirt held loosely in them, tossed aside like it had offended him somehow.
Bishop’s fingers lingered at the clasp of my bra, a question I answered with a choked whimper, arching my back into his touch.
With a click, the hooks gave way.
The fabric loosened, and my breasts spilled free into the cool air, my nipples pebbling instantly, hard and aching. I watched their faces as they looked at me, the dark hunger in their eyes both terrifying and exhilarating.
Elias was the first to move, lowering himself over me, his gaze locked on my chest. He didn’t speak, just leaned in and took my right nipple into his mouth.
Fireworks.
That was the only word I had for it. A jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot straight through me, centering between my legs where a deep, insistent throb began to build. He swirled his tongue around the tight peak, his teeth scraping gently, just enough to make me gasp.
My head fell back, my eyes fluttering shut. “Elias…”
He hummed against my skin, the vibration a delicious torment. His other hand came up to cup my left breast, his thumb circling the nipple in a rhythm that made my hips rock against the cot.
I felt movement at my other side, and then Bishop’s mouth was on my left nipple, mimicking Elias’s movements, creating a symphony of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. Two sets of hands, two mouths, two different pressures, all working in tandem to unravel me.
Griff’s hands returned, this time to the button of my pants. His movements were slow, giving me every chance to stop him.
I didn’t. I wanted this. I wanted all of them.
The button slid free with a soft pop.
My breath hitched as he lowered the zipper, the teeth parting with a sound that was impossibly loud in the quiet room. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my pants and panties, pausing for a heartbeat, his gaze searching mine. I saw the question there, the final offer of an out.
I didn’t give him one.
I just lifted my hips.
Slowly, carefully, he drew the fabric down my legs, exposing me slowly but surely. The cool air kissed my heated skin, and I shivered, the sensation only heightening my awareness of how bare I was. He pulled the clothes off my feet, and then I was naked.
And they weren’t.
The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. They were all still fully dressed, towering over me, their clothed bodies a stark contrast to my utter vulnerability. A flush crept up my neck and spread across my chest.
The sight of them, all of them, their gazes fixed on my exposed body, sent a fresh jolt of need straight to my core.
I was on display for them. A feast laid out for their pleasure.
“She likes it,” Nox growled appreciatively “Our girl likes it when we all take care of her.”
His words, instead of shaming me, only fueled the fire. I did like it. I loved the power in my vulnerability, the way their eyes devoured me, the way they had me on the very edge of control.
Then the hands were back, and the mouths, and I lost the ability to track who was where.
A kiss landed on my shoulder, teeth scraping gently. Was it Bishop? Or Elias?
A palm slid down my stomach, fingers tangling in the curls between my legs, a teasing, possessive touch that made me gasp. Griff, maybe?
A hot, open-mouthed kiss was pressed to the inside of my knee. Eamon for sure, with the doctor’s careful, thorough exploration.
A tongue traced the curve of my hip. Nox. I knew it was him from the way it made me shiver, from the low chuckle that reverberated against my skin.
I was a map, and they were all charting me at once, their touches overlapping, blurring into a single, overwhelming wave of blissful euphoria.
It was addicting and I needed more. I tried to follow each touch, to savor each feeling, but it was too much.
The sensations bled into one another, a kaleidoscope of pleasure that spun faster and faster, threatening to send me over the edge before I was ready.