Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
SIX MONTHS LATER
The alarm on my phone buzzes like an angry hornet trapped under my pillow, but I can’t reach it, not when Ezra’s mouth is doing sinful things to the inside of my thigh, his lips wet and warm, teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver.
His glasses are fogged up from the heat between us.
Maceo’s hands are busy mapping the curves of my waist like he’s memorizing me all over again, his fingers digging in just enough to leave marks I’ll feel later, his growl vibrating against my skin as Lucien traces lazy circles around my nipple with his tongue.
The wet heat of his mouth is a contrast to the cool air of the room, and I can feel my skin prickling with goosebumps, my body caught between the two sensations.
“You’re killing me,” I gasp, arching into Lucien’s touch while Maceo nips at my collarbone, his teeth sharp enough to make me whimper. My fingers tangle in Lucien’s hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against my skin, his breath hot and ragged.
Ezra pulls back just enough to adjust his glasses, his smirk slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “You were the one who said quickie before your meeting.” His voice is rough, like he’s been holding back for too long, and the sound of it sends a jolt straight through me.
“I said quick, not a marathon!” I swat at Maceo’s shoulder, but he just grins, all wolfish charm and zero remorse, his hands slide down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. The hard length of him presses into me, and it takes everything in me not to grind down against him.
Lucien chuckles, the sound rich and warm against my skin, his tongue flicks out to tease my nipple before he pulls back just enough to look up at me.
“Darling, you’re the one who started this by bending over with your glorious ass on display.
” His fingers trace the curve of my breast, his touch light but insistent, like he’s savoring every inch of me.
I groan, my face flushing with embarrassment and desire. “I was getting dressed!” My voice comes out breathier than I intended, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs, my body betraying me with every second they touch me.
“And yet, here we are,” Ezra murmurs, his fingers sliding between my legs with infuriating precision, his touch featherlight at first, teasing me, making me squirm. I am wet and ready, and the way his fingers glide over me is almost too much. Almost.
I bite my lip to keep from moaning, but it’s a losing battle. “I hate you all.” The words come out weak, half-hearted, and I know they can hear the lie in them.
Maceo’s laugh is a deep rumble, his chest vibrating against mine as he leans in to nip at my earlobe. “No, you don’t.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my skin, and his body tenses, like he’s holding himself back from taking me right then and there.
No. I really don’t.
Nine months in Ruby Springs, and I still haven’t gotten used to this, waking up tangled between them, their hands and mouths and voices weaving me into something softer, something stronger.
Somewhere along the way, this stopped being my space and turned into ours, their belongings scattered throughout every corner of the manor like breadcrumbs marking territory.
Maceo’s work boots by the front door, marked with grease and engine oil from the shop.
Ezra’s collection of arcane texts stacked precariously on the kitchen counter, bookmarks jutting out at odd angles where he’s been researching ward mechanics late into the night.
Lucien’s vintage silk ties draped over the back of the bedroom armchair, their jewel tones almost too opulent for the space.
Their presence has seeped into the very walls like smoke, like magic, like something that was always meant to be here.
Even the house’s magic has shifted, the ancient wards recognizing them, welcoming them, wrapping around their essences like the building itself has claimed them as part of its foundation.
“Oh fuck, yes, Ez, right there.” The words spill out of me before I can stop them, my hips buck up against his hand as he curls his fingers inside me, his thumb presses against my clit in slow, deliberate circles.
I tilt my head back, my neck arching as Lucien captures my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue tangles with mine, swallowing my moans.
Maceo’s breath is hot against my ear, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. “You’re already late, Beautiful. Might as well make it worth it.” His fingers work deeper, his touch relentless, and I spiral, my body tightening around him.
I should argue. I should push them away and scramble for my clothes.
I should be making a good impression. Then Lucien’s teeth graze my nipple, the sharp sting sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my core, and Maceo’s hands grip my hips.
Ezra’s voice drops into that low, commanding tone that makes my toes curl, his words wrap around me like a promise. “Let go, Marvel. Let us have you.”
“Fuck it,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper, but they hear me. They always hear me.
Maceo’s grin is all teeth, his eyes dark with hunger as he leans in to capture my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue sweeps inside like he’s claiming me all over again.
Ezra removes his hand, his fingers glistening with my arousal.
He licks them and the sight has my pussy clenching around the emptiness he’s left behind.
Maceo doesn’t make me wait as he adjust his position and dives for my clit, his tongue works my pussy over with slow, deliberate strokes, and I see stars.
Lucien’s hands are in my hair, his mouth moves up the curve of my neck, teeth graze and nip my skin before he whispers filthy promises against my ear.
I’m lost. I’m theirs and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m most definitely going to be late.
Twenty minutes later, I’m a glorious wreck.
My braids are an untamed riot around my face, my lips tender and swollen from their eager attention, and my dress is rumpled beyond salvation from where they hastily tugged it back onto my still-tingling body.
Lucien stands by the dresser, meticulously adjusting his platinum cufflinks as if we just finished afternoon tea instead of a passionate foursome, not a single dark hair out of place.
Ezra calmly wipes his glasses on his shirt hem before sliding them back on with that precise, measured movement that makes my knees weak all over again.
Maceo, damn him, stretches his powerful body with a languid satisfaction, arms extending overhead to showcase every perfect muscle, looking exactly like a predator who just devoured something particularly delicious.
Which would be fine if I didn’t have somewhere to be. Apparently, rebuilding the wards wasn’t the only change Ruby Springs needed, and now I’m expected to meet the town’s brand-new Sheriff.
I glare at all three of them, acutely aware of the wetness still between my thighs. “I told you we didn’t have time for this. First impressions matter.”
Especially when those first impressions involve the man the town just handed a badge to.
Lenora may have started the idea during one of her calculated political maneuvers, but the council ran with it after everything went down with the wards.
The whole mess left everyone rattled, questioning systems that had worked for generations.
Now Ruby Springs has something it’s never needed before in its two-hundred-year plus history, actual law enforcement. Someone who will enforce the broader laws of the town, the ones that keep our secret safe and maintain the delicate balance between all our different communities.
It’s either brilliant or completely insane, and I’m honestly not sure which.
Maceo’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he meets my gaze. “You also told us to hurry up,” he reminds me, mimicking my desperate plea from fifteen minutes ago. “Several times, if I recall correctly.”
I snatch up a decorative pillow and hurl it at his smug face. He catches it effortlessly, his laughter rolling through the room like thunder.
Ezra steps behind me, his warm hands resting on my shoulders with that quiet assurance that always centers me. His fingers press gently into the knots forming there. “We’ll drive you,” he says, voice low and practical. “You’ll make it on time. I promise.”
“No,” I cut in, sliding my shoes on. “We’re walking. It’s my routine and I need the air.”
Maceo exhales a laugh, already reaching for his keys as he jerks his chin toward Ezra. “We’ll meet you there.”
Lucien crosses the room, offering his arm with a knowing smirk that makes my cheeks flush all over again. “And if you’re late,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming, “we’ll just tell him you were indisposed.” The way his tongue caresses that final word should be illegal.
I groan, but I take his arm anyway, feeling the familiar flutter in my chest as our skin touches.
Because really, what’s the point of fighting it? Six months in, and I still haven’t developed any immunity to their charms.
These three are utterly incorrigible, and somehow, impossibly, they’re mine.
Not that I get much peace anymore. With Maceo officially moving in, the pack seems to treat the manor like a second home, wolves in and out at all hours, laughter, noise, life where there used to be silence. I absolutely love it.
The manor door shuts behind us with a soft, definitive click, sealing in the warmth and cheerful chaos we leave in our wake.
The morning air greets me immediately, bright and clean, carrying the faint scent of pine resin and something sweet blooming further along the path, honeysuckle maybe, or whatever the garden has decided to show off this week.
Summer is in full swing in Ruby Springs now, deep and unhurried, the kind of day where the sun feels generous instead of punishing.