Chapter 12 #3
“Easy, sweetheart,” Griff rumbled from behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. “Just let it happen.”
I tried. I really did. But my body was still humming from the force of my orgasm, still strung tight with the relentless heat, and the feeling of him expanding inside me was… overwhelming to say the least.
Then he moved, a shallow, experimental thrust, sending a fresh jolt of fiery pleasure rocketing through me. I cried out, my head falling back against Griff’s shoulder, my hips rocking back and forth, seeking more of that incredible friction.
“Feel that?” Elias growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s my knot. It means you’re mine.”
The words, possessive and primal, sent a shiver of pure heat through me. The idea of being tied to him, of being completely and utterly at his mercy, was the most deliciously forbidden thing I had ever experienced.
He thrust all the way inside me and the movement left me seeing stars.
Then he thrust again.
And again.
Each movement was a calculated torment, a deliberate drag of that thick knot against the most sensitive parts of me, pushing me towards another climax, one that promised to be even more intense than the last.
Griff held me steady, his arms a band of steel around my waist, my back pressed flush against his hard chest. Bishop’s hands were on my breasts, his clever fingers plucking at my nipples, sending piercing jolts of pleasure straight to my clit.
Eamon’s and Nox’s mouths were on my shoulders, their teeth nipping, their tongues soothing, creating a maddening counterpoint to the relentless pounding of Elias’s cock.
“Look at you,” Bishop murmured, his voice a low, intimate murmur against my ear. “Taking all of him. You were made for this. Made for us.”
The knot at the base of Elias’s cock swelled impossibly larger, fully locking him inside me and stretching me to my absolute limit.
The discomfort was a dull ache compared to the blinding pleasure of being so completely, irrevocably filled.
There was no space, no room for anything but him, for the sheer, overwhelming reality of him inside me.
My legs were trembling uncontrollably, my muscles screaming with a strain that had nothing to do with pain. I was held aloft, suspended between Griff’s solid strength and Elias’s invasive heat, and the feeling of utter surrender was intoxicating.
“You’re so tight, Tam,” Elias grunted, his hips moving in short, powerful jabs, the movement limited by the tie between us. “You’re squeezing me so hard.”
A strangled sound escaped my throat. I couldn’t help it.
He was filling every inch of me, and my inner walls fluttered and clenched around him, a rhythmic, involuntary spasm that made him curse under his breath.
Another orgasm was building, fast and furious.
The pressure was immense, a coiling snake in my belly, ready to strike.
“Elias,” I gasped, my hands scrambling for purchase on his sweat-slicked chest. “Please… I…”
“I know,” he grunted, his rhythm growing more erratic. “I feel it. Let go, Tamsin. Come for me again. Come all over my knot.”
His words were the final push. A wave of pleasure, more intense than anything I had ever experienced, crashed over me, stealing my breath and my senses. My back arched, a silent scream tearing from my throat as my body convulsed with the force of my climax.
The knot swelled to its fullest, sending a fresh, blinding jolt of pleasure through my already overwhelmed system, the feeling so intense, so absolute, that it was almost painful.
With a guttural roar, Elias thrust all the way into me and found his release. I felt the hot surge of his seed filling me, the fiery warmth of it triggering another, smaller wave of pleasure that rippled through my already spent body.
I collapsed against his chest, my mind a blissful haze. After a long moment his knot finally deflated and then I felt a pair of gentle hands lift me from him.
A soft whimper escaped me at the sudden, jarring emptiness he left behind. But the heat was still there, a low, simmering ember waiting to be stoked back into a raging fire. And I knew, with a certainty that was both terrifying and exhilarating, that we were far from finished.
I was lowered onto the cot, this time on my hands and knees, my body pliant, my mind a hazy fog of pleasure and need. A strong, lean body settled behind me.
Bishop.
I knew it was him from the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his touch.
His hands rested on my hips, a gentle, possessive touch that sent my head whirling with need. He took a moment, his gaze appreciative as he looked at me, at the evidence of Elias’s release still dripping down my thighs.
“So perfect,” he crooned, more to himself than to me. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Are you ready for me, little mate?”
I could only nod, my voice gone, my body already anticipating what was to come.
He positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudging my sensitive folds. He was slightly different from Elias, leaner, but no less formidable.
Then with a slow, gradual pressure, he entered me.
I cried out, the sensation of being filled again, so soon after my last orgasm, almost too much to bear. My arms trembled, threatening to give out, but I held on, bracing myself against the cot.
He started to move, and each stroke hit a spot deep inside me that made my toes curl. He watched me, his gaze intense, taking in every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace, his angle, to give me the most pleasure possible.
It was intoxicating.
It was maddening.
I lost myself to the feeling of him inside me, to the overwhelming ecstasy of it all.
My world narrowed to the sounds of our bodies meeting, to the scent of our combined arousal, to the heat of his hands on my skin.
His knot started to stretch me, the feeling familiar and new all at the same time.
I pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Bishop,” I gasped, my fingers clutching at the thin blanket. “Please…”
He understood. He always understood.
His thrusts became rougher, more forceful, the swollen base of him stretching me wider, pushing me closer to the edge with every movement. The friction was exquisite, a delicious torment that built a fire in my blood.
“Feel that, sweet mate?” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Feel how you’re taking all of me?”
I could only whimper in response, on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. The pressure at my core built to an almost painful intensity, a tightly wound spring ready to snap. With one final, powerful thrust, he seated himself fully inside me, his knot locking into place.
Then Griff moved into my line of sight.
He stood beside the cot, his magnificent body on full display. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Bishop’s knot stretched me open, a ravenous hunger in his eyes. One of his hands wrapped around his own impressive length, stroking it in a way that mirrored Bishop’s thrusts.
Seeing him taking his own pleasure from watching us sent a fresh jolt of desire straight to my core. I moaned, pushing my hips back against Bishop.
Griff’s gaze met mine, and a devious grin spread across his face. “You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” he rumbled. “You like having us all watch you, knowing you’re driving us all wild.”
I could only nod, my throat too tight to form words, my body moving without thought, just instinct, chasing the next release that was already building deep in my core.
“Tam,” Bishop gasped, his voice strained, “you’re so… fucking… tight.”
“More,” I breathed, the word a ragged plea. “Please, Bishop, more.”
He obeyed.
With a guttural groan, he drove all the way into me, the swollen base of his cock stretching me impossibly wide. The friction of that thick knot dragging against my walls, pressing against that magical spot deep inside, made me come apart.
It started as a tingle at the base of my spine, a slow, building heat that spread through my veins like wildfire. His knot swelled even further, a hard, unyielding pressure that filled me, completed me, promising a pleasure so intense it was almost pain.
My world narrowed to this single, overwhelming sensation. The feeling of Bishop’s knot expanding inside me, the sounds of our ragged breaths, the sight of Griff stroking himself, his eyes locked on us with a predatory focus.
The edge of another orgasm glimmered on the horizon.
I looked up at Griff, watching as he stroked himself faster, his movements becoming increasingly desperate. The sight of him was my undoing.
With a cry that was half a sob, I came again, my body convulsing, my pussy clamping down on Bishop’s knot. The orgasm ripped through me, an agonizingly blissful thing that left me quaking with aftershocks.
With a hoarse cry, Bishop drove into me one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside me.
A wave of warmth spread inside me, and my body trembled in response.
But the heat, that relentless, insatiable heat, was still there.
I felt Bishop’s knot deflate, then his softening cock slipped free from me. Before I could process the loss, though, I was being moved again.
Gentle but firm hands rolled me onto my back and I found myself staring up at Eamon. His expression was a mixture of raw hunger and fierce tenderness that made my heart ache. Looking at him right now, I didn’t see the doctor. I saw my mate who needed to claim me as his own.
His gaze drifted down my body, taking in the evidence of our combined pleasure, the bite marks on my neck, the way my thighs quaked. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
“You’re doing so well, sweet girl,” he said soothingly. “Are you ready for more?”
I nodded tentatively, unable to speak.
He settled between my thighs, the tip of his cock brushing my dripping wet pussy. He was different than the others, not as thick as Elias, not as long as Bishop, but hard and eager and perfect.