Chapter 98
Kara
Cole kneels at the foot of the bed. His hands circle my ankles, and he looks up at me with those devastating blue eyes. "May I?"
I can only nod.
He lifts one foot, pressing a kiss to my ankle. Then he takes the bottle from Asher and lets a few drops fall onto my arch, my ankle, the sensitive skin of my inner knee. And then his mouth follows, licking away every trace of champagne with maddening thoroughness.
My back arches off the bed. "This is—I can't—"
"Too much?" Asher's voice is strained. He's barely holding onto control, I can feel it through the bond. "Say the word, Kara. We stop."
"No!" The word bursts out of me. "Don't you dare stop."
Blake's answering growl is pure satisfaction. The bottle passes between them like a choreographed dance—Blake drizzling champagne along my ribs, Asher licking it from my hip bone, Cole painting the inside of my thigh with golden drops before slowly, slowly kissing his way higher.
I'm drowning in sensation. Too much and not enough all at once. Their mouths are everywhere, worshipping every inch of exposed skin, and through the bond I feel their emotions: Beautiful. Perfect. Ours. So fucking grateful she's letting us do this.
"Please," I hear myself whimper. "I need—"
"What do you need, moonlight?" Cole's breath ghosts over my core, separated only by the thin barrier of my soaked panties. "Tell us."
But I can't form words. Can't think past the desperate ache between my legs and the way their combined scents are making my head spin.
Blake solves the problem by hooking his fingers in the lace and ripping.
The sound of tearing fabric echoes through the room, and suddenly I'm completely bare. Completely exposed. And completely, utterly theirs.
"Fuck," Blake breathes, staring at me like he's seeing the sun for the first time. "Kara, you're—"
"Mine," I gasp out, and before I can second-guess the impulse, I surge up and bite down on his shoulder. Right over the mark I left before. Claiming him. Owning him. Making sure he knows exactly who he belongs to.
The reaction is instantaneous.
Blake's eyes roll back, a sound somewhere between a roar and a sob tearing from his throat. Through the bond: YES! God yes, mark me, claim me, make me YOURS—
"My turn," I growl, and the voice doesn't even sound like mine anymore. It's all wolf. All instinct. All possessive, claiming need.
Cole offers his wrist without hesitation, eyes dark with want. "Please."
I bite down—gentler than with Blake, but firm enough to leave marks. He shudders, and through the bond I feel his wolf rolling over in submission, pleased to be claimed by his mate.
"Asher." I turn to the eldest, the most controlled. The one who's been holding himself back while his brothers indulged. "Don't make me beg."
Something in his careful composure cracks. He's on me in an instant, his larger body caging mine against the silk sheets. "You never have to beg, my Luna," he rasps against my throat. "You just have to take."
So I do.
---
I sink my teeth into the junction where his neck meets his shoulder—the same spot where his mark adorns my skin.
The symmetry feels important. Sacred. Like we're completing a circle that began weeks ago in pain and fear and is ending now in choice and heat and overwhelming, terrifying want.
Asher goes rigid above me, every muscle locking tight. For one horrible moment I think I've hurt him, but then his scent explodes—black ebony and tobacco so intense I can taste it—and I feel through the bond:
Grateful. Humbled. Owned. Hers. Finally, finally hers.
"You're mine," I whisper against his skin, tasting copper and champagne and him. "Say it."
"Yours." The word comes out broken. He's shaking, and I realize with a jolt that he's crying. "I'm yours, Kara. Yours. Completely and utterly yours."
I release his throat and pull back to look at his face. Tears track down his cheeks, but he's smiling—this soft, wondering expression I've never seen on him before. Like he can't quite believe this is real.
"All three of you," I say, looking around at them. Blake panting at my right, marked and feral. Cole kneeling between my legs, marked and worshipful. Asher above me, marked and mine. "You're all mine."
"And you're ours," Blake rasps. His hand slides up my thigh, fingers ghosting over my center but not quite touching. Teasing. "But tonight, you're in charge, baby. So tell us—what do you want us to do?"
The truth bubbles up before I can stop it: "I want... I want to feel you. All of you. At the same time."
The room goes completely still.
Through the bond, their thoughts hit me like a freight train:
She can't mean—
Does she understand what she's asking?
Fuck, we haven't prepared her for that, if we do it wrong we could hurt her—
"I mean it," I insist, even as my face flames. "I want... all three of you. Inside me. Together."
"Kara." Asher's voice is strained to breaking. "That's not—we'd have to take our time. Prepare you properly. And even then, there's risk—"
"I trust you." The words stop him cold. Stop all of them. "I trust you not to hurt me. I trust you to take care of me." My voice drops to barely a whisper. "I trust you to make me feel like I'm the center of your entire world. So... please?"
The last word comes out small. Vulnerable. And it's that vulnerability, I think, that finally breaks them.
"Okay," Asher breathes. "Okay. But we do this right. Slowly. And if at any point you need us to stop—"
"Mistletoe," I finish. "I know. I remember. Now... please."
What happens next is both exactly what I asked for and nothing I could have imagined.
They move around me with the coordination of wolves who've hunted together their entire lives. Blake brackets my upper body, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tastes like champagne and promises. Cole stays between my legs, his hands stroking my thighs with soothing pressure even as his scent—mint and ozone—wraps around me like a safety net.
And Asher... Asher moves to the bedside table and retrieves a small bottle I didn't notice before.
"Oil," he explains, catching my questioning look. His voice is rough but steady. "To make sure we don't hurt you. To make this..." He swallows hard. "To make this as perfect as we can."
Through the bond, I feel their unified intention: Pleasure. Safety. Love. Making her understand she's precious.
Cole's hands are gentle but firm as he spreads my legs wider. "Focus on me, moonlight," he says softly. "On my scent. Let it calm you."